#i would sell my soul for a crumb of their attention

[whispers-of-lilith]

💀💀 the things I would let them do to me fjkshdjsj

[Art by musasabiop]

[sleepycatofshimano]

The 44080 Entries ➝ an 'The Outlast Trials' fan-fiction by sleepycatofshimano

Reagent 44080 Entry #1 | originally published on Archive of Our Own

Content Warnings Leland Coyle/Female Reagent, Non-con/Implied Non-con Elements, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Age Gap, Branding, Semi-Public Sex, Kink Shaming, Asphyxiation, Angst, BDSM, Teasing/Shaming, Obsession, Oral Sex, Mind Manipulation, Electrifying Sex (literally), Enemies-to-Lovers(?), Slow Burn/Slow Build, Bonding, Some Fluff (!), Diary/Journal Format

︙ This work is rated 'R'; do not interact if you are under the age of 18.

Chp. Word Count 2,849

⬐ Summary

=========

5 June 19xx

It wasn’t all bad. That was the first thing I told myself while I watched three Reagents hobble out from the rusted-metal shuttle, chuckling and cursing amongst themselves as their eyes lay wide and alert. Curious, though, how their lips twitched sadistically at their own shared amusement. Was it simply because of some magical bond obtained through the Trials? Well, I had yet to form such bonds; even after partaking in three Trials myself, the other three Reagents never so much as turned my way once we had exited the Trial. And it remained as such… every single time. Perhaps I wasn’t yet as well-versed in the set design to meet their incredulous standards, but at the end of each tiresome day, I craved some sort of connection in this lonely facility.

Well, there was one Reagent who had recently taken to liking me—or was it the opposite way around? I wasn’t sure. But she was kind enough to uphold my attention, anyway. We had only participated in one Trial together—my third, which was only as early as last night—and already, I knew we had a vigorous understanding of one another’s strengths and weaknesses in the Trials. I was never the greatest at sprinting in times of sporadic need, yet she was there to help guide me through the winding corridors of the Thin Blue Line; even though the other two Reagents had long since made for the Shuttle, she had chosen to jeopardise and extend her time in the Trial to lend a hand. She was foolish and brash, and she would absolutely end up getting herself killed someday soon—but for now, she made an excellent ally to buddy up with for the upcoming therapies.

Though there were no windows in the Murkoff facility, I could tell it was a day of constant downpour and overcast haze; which was why I sat alone, pondering over how many poor souls were left stranded on the streets today. How many did I know? Or, rather, how many knew me? I hoped that number was well below freezing.

‘44080, you’re needed in the infirmary.’

That was the scratchy speaker’s first announcement for the day (eve?), and I do remember choking out a piercing sigh as I rose carefully from the cool, metal bench of the chess table. I had to drag my right leg across the sticky ground of the common area; an area littered always with crumbs, gunk, and sometimes even blood. In doing this, my eyes glazed lazily over every Sleep Room in sight; the second-floor rooms appeared a lot more lively than the first-floor ones, which just so happened to be where my own Sleep Room resided. Reagents were travelling in and out through each others’ rooms, speaking loudly amidst one another as they fidgeted around with the contraband bought from the general store below.

That store was always so tacky—selling chuckas like pink, plastic dildos on mallard mantles and mechanical fingers that could just barely fit through the hole of those stale doughnuts. I never onced dared to put the finger to use.

But my eyes darted thereafter to the large, double-glass window that sat lonely beside Miss Barlow. Her blonde curls looked far frizzier than normal today, and I took silent notice of the smeared lipstick that dragged down one side of her lip. When her large, doughy eyes caught wind of me, she purred sweetly as she rolled forward on her tip-toes, leaning her slender weight against the metal surface of her tiny, medicinal shop. Then, she spoke in a southern twang that many employees and Reagents here held: ‘Darlin’! You miss little ‘ol me already? Awh, Doctor Easterman would be flattered to hear of such admiration all strewn about his precious, lil’ Reagents! A pretty little thing like you, ‘specially!’

I didn’t so much as bat an eye her way, opting to instead continue toward the rectangular window, which peered straight into the hospital wing of the facility. Miss Barlow scoffed at my display of ignorance toward her, and returned quickly to her Harper’s Bazaar magazine for women’s 1950s fashion.

One of the many armed guards nodded toward my slow-moving frame as I passed Barlow’s shop, though he grabbed quickly at my forearm, yanking me through a heavy, iron door as another guard pulled me forward on the other side; I was used to being tossed around in the Murkoff Facility, though with a twisted ankle, not so much… So, I could only wince in pain and hiss through grit teeth as the armed guard merely berated my hobbling frame, without so much as a pint of sympathy.

When I arrived at the curtain-enclosed room, the length of four single-person hospital beds across, I mustered a lopsided grin at the young woman who lay in wake for me.

‘You came!’ she exclaimed, and, ‘Doctor Easterman will be here soon. I’m just elated that you’re here to prove and solidify my case against him.’

The ‘him’ she spoke of was most obviously none other than Leland Coyle; a deranged, middle-aged lunatic who stalked the Murkoff Trials with a reverence far more electrifying than any thrill possible for a human of mortal malevolence and belief. I was no saint—nor was I from the Catholic church. My views were rather… secular, as one could put it. Well, I’m putting it, at least. In this diary. And Leland Coyle was a most secular man of the law. He was known infamously amongst the Reagents for lashing out against us and even some of the Murkoff Corporation staff themselves. Because of this, I often avoided him during Trials—not so much as looking his way when I heard that godforsaken baton sizzling into the musty air of the Thin Blue Line. Of course, it came as no surprise when news broke out amongst the Reagents that one of the female patients had been assaulted by none other than Coyle, and how she now wished to testify against the Murkoff Corporation; a snitch, Doctor Easterman had once said about one soul not so different from the rest of us Reagents.

I remember watching 44100 sob loudly once Doctor Easterman appeared through the large, iron door to the hospital wing. She sat trembling on a thin, cream mattress—as supportive and comfy as cardboard—as he took her in his arms, allowing her to clutch and grasp at his ivory lab coat and chest. Easterman took caring for his patients to a whole different level of the act itself, and it didn’t bode well amidst some of us—no less amidst Miss Barlow. She was in love with Easterman; that damned fool! A manipulative scumbag as cunning as Easterman was not a trap any woman wished to fall upon, but once a lady falls in love, it takes something as stinging and blunt as Coyle’s baton to snap her out.

‘He grabbed me by my ‘lil ‘ol wrists and pinned me against those dirty walls!’ 44100 started, crying hysterically into the pristine white of Easterman’s coat; her southern twang was far more prominent now than it had ever been when the two of us conversed over petty manners in the other’s Sleep Room. ‘It just wasn’t fair—taking advantage of a lady like that!’

Easterman didn’t so much as frown or ease a brow at her pitiful display of trauma from the damned Ex-Pop, and instead, he ran a burly hand through her long, feathered locks of strawberry blonde. He pecked his lips against her forehead, removing her snot-riddled face from his chest as he slid both thumbs under her red and welling eyes.

‘And what did he do next?’ he asked with a sickly sweet lilt.

He knew damn well what Coyle could have possibly done—the cameras! They’re everywhere in this place! Everywhere!

She sobbed again. ‘He spat in my face! Tellin’ me how he’s an officer of the law, and that I was simply a criminal that needed to be tied up like the rest of ‘em sorry souls here!’

It was certainly odd hearing what sort of trauma 44100 had undergone, though it also sounded like the basic nonsense that Coyle would spew at nearly every Reagent to fall into his line of sight. Well, I wouldn’t know this in its entirety, since I had never actually been cornered by Coyle—no less faced him on my own.

Tonight would change that. Tonight would be the night where I would enter a Trial on my lonesome. You see, the fact of the matter was that I had grown bored of stalking the common area from my usual seat at the barren chess table; the Reagents had slowly been falling into their own groups, and that was merely because of the Trials they had undergone. Together. I was merely treating this place like some common prison, when I should really have been utilising the therapy provided with the long stay.

‘44080, do you have any additional insight for both 44100 and I?’ Easterman cooed, turning then to face me. I was seated on the edge of her bed, one hand clutched loosely at my upper thigh while the other hung lifelessly at my side.

‘I only saw the tail end of it all, Doctor. Coyle had been long gone by the time I rounded the corner with my rig. The other Reagents managed to distract him with a bottle or a brick of sorts. I don’t know. It’s all rather hazy now.’ But the truth did not lie in my words; I knew exactly what he had done, and why 44100 had called me here to help testify against Coyle.

And then, Easterman stood from the rickety hospital bed, leaving 44100 to lay in a desperate state of longing for human touch and a physical connection. And I really couldn’t blame her; it had been far too long since the last time I so much as held hands with another, but Easterman had told us to leave it all behind—for the sake of the therapy. And it was working. I was forgetting the pathetic shell of a person I once was—dependent on constant desire and affection—and instead, focusing on getting better. And then he spoke: ‘Then that will be all for today. I thank you for your time, 44080, and I bestow to you my deepest apologies for our staff’s recent behaviour, 44100. But I assure you, this conversation proved only insightful for us here at Murkoff. I wish you two only the best in moving forward with the therapy.’ He dragged a hand across 44100’s slender back, stopping to squeeze tenderly at her shoulder. ‘Until next misfortune we may yet meet.’ And then he was off, without so much as a nod or wave in lieu of a proper good-bye.

It would be a foolish lie to say I wasn’t the least bit jealous of the physical attention 44100 had received during our time in the hospital wing. Immediately, I reached for her shoulder, but she ripped herself violently from my grasp—clutching her shoulder as she stared daggers into my worried gaze.

‘Don’t touch it!’ was all she said.

And it was enough said.

Later that day (eve?) I lay awake in my bed, thinking back to the events of yesterday’s Trial. How Coyle had forced her up against the wall. How he had spat in her face. How he had spoken like a right looney to her and all other passersby (Reagents). How he had toyed with her—the way his sparking baton was dragged slowly up her inner thigh, stopping at no verbal or physical objection from her… How it had reached her core within a matter of seconds… How it had been thrust between her protesting thighs, sparking beautiful sprinkles of blue and white, as though some perverted allegory had engulfed Coyle’s very baton… How he had practically gotten her off with his own fucking weapon supplied by Murkoff… It was all too much—too difficult to forget.

How do I remember all this, you may ask? As Jonathan Harker had mastered in his characterisation in Bram Stoker’s 1897 novel ‘Dracula’, writing in shorthand and acting as (for lack of a better term) a human stenograph has proved quite useful for my writings—so, alas! Here it is. My diary; the only form of contraband keeping me sane… until it is time to get better, I suppose.

I had been so deep in reminiscence over that last Trial, that I couldn’t even pinpoint the exact moment I had started touching myself to the thought of… “him”? It certainly wasn’t 44100’s soft and round face of natural femininity that clouded my mind, but instead, that all-too-familiar baton that sizzled low in the distance of most every Trial I had undergone thus far. Because I had never seen his face up close, it was becoming quickly tricky to materialise any sort of facial expression for Coyle in my mind; his beard looked scruffy—albeit from afar—and his uniform held odd wires that slithered around certain ligaments. His shades were always blocking his own, perverted gaze, and his frame was far lankier than one would expect from an ex-Marine (I had found this out previously from a misplaced file lying atop the chess table one time). This was all I had to go off, yet it still seemed to be enough as I twirled my index fingers against my growing heat, plunging deep beneath the rushing slickness of my folds as I allowed the shitty, single-person bed to conceal the rocking of my own hips—if just for now.

How many Reagents had he forced against the wall?

I imagined myself in 44100’s place; how thrilling it must have been to have had a man as authoritative as Leland Coyle spitting in your face, berating you and praising himself and his duties as he utilised his own weapon for the sake of your own pleasure. Fuck. This. Place. I am going mad! But I couldn’t just bring the fantasy to a halt, you see—it was nearing that time. My thighs clenched together as they sang sweet slickness to me, and I knew that any Reagents passing by my Sleep Room would most surely have heard me, but I didn’t mind. I couldn’t have. Coyle’s baton and that scruffy beard of his were all that surfaced now, and my mind had been long lost to the cosmos of enticing promise(s) and delusional grandeur.

It really didn’t take long to whine out into the stale air of my quarters. The lonely poster of a rat hanging diagonally across the wall was the only thing I made proper eye contact with, and even then I felt ashamed of myself. A clarity of sorts, you could say. You would always hear the muffled chatter and cries of other Reagents, both across the hall and up above, but it was never grounds for distraction when I pleasured myself; especially not now. Not when a deranged lunatic now took the forefront of all fantasy from here on out.

After taking a moment to come down from my high, I decided upon travelling to the communal shower room to clean up before heading up to the cafeteria for a bite to eat. Of course, there were no other Reagents taking a shower before their Trial, as most all of us cleaned ourselves after the chaos that the Trials brought forth. But I had my reasons, and only I had to know this.

Eating the usual slab of unnamed meat and canned, off-brand soup, I was only able to imagine just what may lie in wait for me during my first-ever (and possibly final) Trial alone. Would it prove any more difficult than a regular day in the Trials? Or would I succeed in ways unimaginable? What I meant by the latter, I couldn’t really say; but what I did know was that there was a clear objective at the forefront of my mind: Leland Coyle. Find the man responsible for 44100’s trauma(?) and unfurl just what this Ex-Pop truly had to offer. How dangerous was he? When compared to the other Ex-Pops, just how much of a threat did he pose in the grand scheme of the Murkoff Trials? It felt demoralising and foolish to place my trust in Doctor Easterman, but if I were to garner the courage to go in—alone—I needed to place my hand in Easterman’s own, willingly succumbing to his puppeteering of the other Reagents and hope that the Trial wouldn’t swallow me whole; like it did to others, perhaps I would become simply another prop for the Murkoff Corporation. Would my limbs be strewn about one of the Trial’s sets, or would my body be left untouched—only to be shoved as a distraction to save another Reagent’s very life? Well, on this, neither the former nor latter sounded ideal, and I instead decided to once more lose myself in the idea of Leland Coyle, and the Trial that I would soon be entering. Alone.

Fuck you, Murkoff! Fuck you, Easterman! Fuck you, 44100! And fuck you, Leland Coyle.

=============

-> Entry #2

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-34)

Word count: 3.4K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Feels, fluff

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​​. I love you so much, darling <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

The rest of the week was hard.

There were things you wanted to do and then things that you had to do. Unfortunately for you, the Venn diagram of those two things were two circles that did not touch.

Normally, you loved your job, you loved studying and your classes. But sitting through Sam’s class was becoming a new, different type of torture. The pretension was wearing you down. You could see it grating him, too. You rarely spoke up in his class now, trying not to draw attention, neither did he call upon you like he did with other students. 

The library was still your second home, though, thanks to the untimely desertion of the other odd shifts librarian, you were left to run double shifts. Molly was sorry about it, but she didn’t have a solution for you, not until she had a new hire. That meant you were stuck in the library all the time. The guys in the apartment were starting to miss you. Kevin came over one evening to inform you everything sucked when you weren’t around. His face had made you hug him.

As for you? Without the free evenings, you couldn’t go over to see Max. You missed him terribly and it would do no good to whine about that to Sam, since you were still unsure about how he would take your excessive attachment to his son. 

Not that you didn't have the chance to talk to Sam. After Sam put Max to bed, each night he’d call. You would sit in the alcove of the library widow and talk to him for hours- about the day, the classes and everything under the sun. Sam told you about the cases he was working on, the judges he really disliked and the girl Chase was chasing. Sam thought he was named aptly. He was also your faithful informant about Max. Apparently the playground bullies were back at it with the mean words. You blurted out loud how you wanted to punch the kids and Sam piled on top of that. Cheerful conversations about shaking kids followed.

It felt so juvenile to talk with him over the phone, like when he worked in New York and you were stuck in Lawrence, but not quite. Now, it was exciting to imagine him blushing on the other end when you accidentally said something complementary. Or if a student decided to stay in the library late night, you had to giggle in hushed voices so they wouldn’t overhear your conversations. The thrill of it was exciting. Those few hours had become the highlight of your day.

So, when Madison asked you what you were smiling about in the last lecture on Friday, you had to make up a reason. You couldn’t very well tell her that the bruise Sam was sporting on his cheek was because Max outran him on the basketball court and Sam slipped and fell.

“Just thinking of something funny.”

“Wouldn’t have to do with the green eyed hottie from Monday, would it?” Madison wiggled her eyebrows.

“Who, Dean?” You burst out laughing. “Maddie! He’s married to my sister.”

She laughed with you, face apologetic. “Dang! He’s really hot. Is it bad that I’m sorry he is married?”

“Definitely not,” you giggled. The good old Winchester genes had caused many casualties.

On the dais below, Sam collected his things.

“Ooohh, Professor Winchester is heading out. I better catch him before he leaves. You wanna come? Talk about the assignment?”

“No, you go on.” Sam had given you a run down of the assignment last night. You wanted to pout that he was right. You could have done better.

“Still awkward about the whole drowning thing, huh?”

You looked away, not wanting to remember the pool.

Madison wasn’t paying attention. “You were… I don’t know, delirious. You kept calling him by his name and…” Madison looked at you warily. She did not complete the sentence.

“Y/N saw the opportunity and took it,” said Rebecca from the next row. “I would sell my soul to be lifted like that.”

You slung your bag around your shoulders and made a move to get up. For all you cared, Rebecca could get hit by a truck. Not only were you furious at her for planning that prank with Brad, it made you feel murderous when she objectified Sam like that, reducing him to some greasy creep of a professor. It was insulting.

“Wait up now, sweetie!” She came up from behind. “Don’t act so prissy now. We all know you’re not as innocent as you make yourself out to be.”

“Excuse me?”

“You think I’m blind? To not see how you’re playing with all these men to get what you want? First, you have Brad panting after you, so you get the attention? Then you’re dancing with some random blue eyed man at the induction dance. The very next day you’re swaying in the arms of Chase Lincoln of all people. The moment you touch the pool water, somehow Sam Winchester is miraculously saving you… and two days later you’re crying like a damsel in distress in the arms of yet another man!” She was counting off her fingers. “And people call me slutty! I’m going to find out what your secret is, Y/N. Because I know you have one! And when I do...”

“You know what, Rebecca?” You said as calmly as you could. “Why don’t you go screw yourself.”

With that you headed straight for the library. When Madison caught up with you, her face was red. “Can’t believe I was ever friends with that hag! Gave her piece of my mind.”

“Madison, you should catch professor Winchester before he leaves. I’ll be okay.”

She assessed your words against your expression, then nodded and left.

You wanted to be by yourself. 

Thankfully, cataloging was time-consuming and tedious. It took your mind off of Rebecca’s awful words. For the life of you, you couldn’t understand why she was so mean to you. 

“Excuse me, miss, can I borrow this book?” Enquired a sweet voice. 

You dropped the marker in your hand and looked up. Max was standing beyond the desk, a huge grin on his face. You gave a little yelp of your own and hurried from behind the counter to throw your arms around him, kissing him on his cheek. 

“Gosh, I’ve been dying to meet you,” you said, pulling back to look at him. 

He was wearing a plaid shirt over a small faded t-shirt and jeans. Such a mini-Sam. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over and kiss his other cheek.

Max started blushing, looking down at his shoes.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, leading him to one of the benches.

“Alex broke her arm last night. She couldn’t come over today. Dad’s got work. He asked me to hang out here.”

“Oh, no, is Alex okay?”

Max snickered. “Yeah. She was trying to sneak out for a party and fell out of the window.”

You pursed your lips trying not to laugh with him. “Poor girl.”

“Aunt Jody’s super-mad!” He added and you couldn’t help the giggle that burst through your lips.

“Max, is that you?” Molly asked, sticking her head from behind the shelves. “Darn kid! It’s been ages. Where did you run off to?”

“Mechanics camp!” He told her. “I know where an engine goes now. And how to hot-wire a car.”

“They taught you that at the camp?” You asked, skeptic.

“No, uncle Dean did.”

This time you laughed in earnest.

“You know Max?” Molly frowned.

You nodded. “Remember my little friend I told you about?”

“The one you were holding a bake sale for?”

“Yep, he’s the one.”

Molly put her hand to her lips. “Well, no shit! Do you know who his father is?”

You and Max immediately looked at each other, confirming your secret with a tiniest of nods. 

“He’s Sam’s boy, this cute little nugget here.” Molly pulled his cheek. To Max’s credit, he didn’t rub his cheek afterwards.

Which reminded you. “You wait right here, Max. I’ll be back in a minute.” You quickly found the stash of cookies you were saving for tonight's dinner and hurried back to him. Eating at the library wasn’t allowed, but Max was an exception to every rule. “Cookies for you. I know these are your favourite.”

Max’s entire face lit up. True to his nature, he offered you one before digging in. You watched as he took a few bites, sneaking looks to the book he was holding- Adventures of Sinbad. 

“I read one of those when I was kid. It had a monster bird that carried Sinbad away to its nest.”

“Oh, the Roc! That one’s my favorite!” Max clapped his hand and the cookies clattered to the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, trying to pick up the bag.

You stopped him with a gentle nudge. “Let me.” After cleaning the cookie crumbs from the carpet, you unwound the scarf from around your neck and used it to clean the crumbs stuck to Max’s mouth and shirt, fussing over getting it all away.

When you made him stand up to clean the hem of his pants, you noticed Sam standing behind you, arms crossed over his chest. He had a peculiar expression on his face- tender but also guarded.

“You’re not supposed to eat the library, young man!” Sam tried for stern, but ended up sounding amused.

You straightened up. “I make the rules here. Max can do whatever he wants.”

Max gave Sam a smug look, before running to him. In a motion that must have been more of less a reflex, Sam reached out and hefted Max up in his arms. 

“Look, what I found!” Max showed him the book.

Sam made a face. “Sinbad again? That sixth voyage was lame.”

“I wanna find out how it ends. There’s only one adventure left!”

“Alright, but this is the last of Arabian tales for the year. I get second hand sea-sickness just reading about it. I’m starting to miss Charlie and the chocolate factory.”

“You hated Charlie and the chocolate factory!”

Sam smirked. “You’re this close to getting my point.”

Max turned the book over. “We’re out of authors,” he told you.

The words shook you out of your quiet and you smoothened your expression. The scene before you was making your throat close up. You had never seen them together before. Max’s entire body language changed- his shoulders relaxed and he became less polite… just a bit more demanding, the way a child should be. Sam on the other hand radiated contentment. His voice changed, becoming softer, loving when he spoke to Max. You were sure you had been staring at them hungrily as if you couldn’t get enough of the interaction.

“Any suggestions?” Sam asked, tone still mild.

“T-Tolkein,” you stuttered. “You should try The Hobbit.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Elven songs. Wonderful.”

Molly came over to greet Sam and you excused yourself to go back to the desk and take a stock of the emotions coursing through you. At any point it could get too much and you didn't want either of them to see that.  

On their way out, Max waved at you. “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye, Max.” You blew him a kiss. “You turned my day around, bud!”

There were too many people in the vicinity, so when it came to Sam, you nodded. “Professor.”

He mirrored your gesture. “Ms. Y/L/N.” And with a look full of promise of later, he walked away. You waved at Max till he was out of sight.

“Such a lovely boy,” Molly sighed. “Horrendous business what happened to him.”

“Yeah.” You cut the topic short, still unable to think of Max’s past without feeling faint. Thinking about it was so hard for you, Max had lived through it. 

Molly was in no mood to change the subject.

“Sam’s an amazing guy to give up the lawyer life and settle down here for that kid.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean?”

Molly threw out her hands, slightly embarrassed. “It’s Sam’s personal choice and all that, but he had a solid career in LA. After that Simmons affair blew up in the media, he could’ve stuck around and bagged A-list celebrities as clients. He moved out to this place for Max’s sake- so there was some normalcy and stability in his life. Then, again, Sam’s had his share of downs.”

Your back felt like ice, knowing what was coming.

“I’m not supposed to talk about it but it’s just you.” Molly leaned in closer. “Did you know his wife left him?”

She must have interpreted whatever your face showed as shock, because Molly continued. “Don’t know much about the whole thing. I heard bits and parts from the grape wine. Some girl he met in Kansas straight out of Yale. Took a plunge in a couple of months and this girl bolted not even a year into the marriage. Can you believe that? I mean, look at him… What the fuck was she looking for that he didn’t have!”

You could taste the blood by biting into your lip too hard.

“Never heard of him dating anyone since. I think he’s still in love with her.” Molly whistled. “At least they have each other- Max and Sam. That kid spends a lot of time here. You’ll keep finding reasons to feed your little friend cookies.” Molly flashed you a grin. You couldn’t quite return it.

It was past twelve when your phone rang. You’d just locked the library behind you and had given up on all hopes of the call.

You hurried to pick it up.

“Hey,” Sam breathed. “Sorry it took me so long.”

“It’s alright,” you sighed in relief at the sound of his voice. The sinking feeling in your stomach since the talk with Molly began to dissipate. 

“It’s your fault really,” Sam said. “Max liked The Hobbit too much and went to bed real late. How am I supposed to wake him in time for his class tomorrow?”

His concerns were so normal, comfortingly mundane. Sam made it sound so easy, when in fact, all this must have been so hard. One time you heard someone say a mean thing about Sam’s wife and it had you rankled. Sam must’ve lived through years of whispers, stories and ugly rumours. He must’ve had to defend his choice of staying committed so many times. Hadn’t the words shred his heart?

“Y/N? Everything okay?”

You cleared your throat. “Uh it’s just… it’s good to hear your voice.”

He was immediately on alert. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Weird day.”

“Where are you?”

You looked about your dark surroundings. “Crossing the playground, almost to my building.”

“Do you want to come over?” He asked, voice hopeful but unsure. “We can sit in the front lawn if you want.”

You made an impulse decision. “Yeah okay.”

Ten minutes later you were sitting on one of Max’s swings. Your tan sweater wasn’t helping much as you shivered in the chill, waiting for Sam to show up. Weird how you made it before him. He lived right there!

Noiselessly the front door opened and closed. Sam walked briskly towards you. He was dressed in dark grey sweatpants and a black full sleeve t-shirt. In his hand he carried an afghan, a thermos and two mugs.

“Here,” he handed you the afghan. It was the same one that was wrapped around you on the night of the pool party. The memory brought blood to your face.

“We don’t have adult juice around here today, but we do have hot chocolate.” Grinning impishly, he tilted the thermos in your direction. He sat on the ground in front of you, carefully filling up the two mugs with the rich, brown liquid while you wrapped yourself in the Afghan. 

Eagerly, you took a sip and moaned indecently.

“Good, isn’t it?” Sam chuckled. 

This was very close to what heaven would feel like. 

“So, what’s the deal, huh?” He asked after a few sips. 

You hesitated, not wanting to admit what the real problem was. It would be the case of a teapot crying to a boiler.

“You know you can tell me things, right?” His voice was soft, beguiling. 

“It’s something Molly said after you left.” You gave in, selfishly spilling it all. 

Sam listened to the whole story, then shook his head at you in exasperation and beckoned you with his hand. You blinked a couple of times, then gave up and went in willingly. 

What the hell, right?

 Sam tucked his arms around your shoulder once you slid on the ground next to him.

“You and I, we know what the truth is,” he said. “How does it matter what anyone else says?”

“Is that what you told yourself all these years?” You asked in a small voice, unable to meet his eyes.

Sam sighed. “Why are you doing this to yourself, Y/N?”

“You didn’t answer me.”

His fingers curled around your shoulder over the afghan. “No, I didn’t have to tell myself anything. I knew I loved you. That was enough.”

“I don’t know if I can be as strong as you.”

“That’s because you’re so much stronger,” he said. “None of those people have lived your life, they don’t know what you’ve been through. I can bet my ass, they wouldn’t have made it out of half of it in one piece. It’s easy to judge.”

“That’s not my problem,” you argued. “I don’t care what they think about me. But I can’t stand how it makes you look!”

Sam surprised you by chuckling lightly. “You’re cute when you’re indignant. Especially on my behalf.”

“Quit making this into a joke, Sam.”

“I seriously don’t know what else to do.” He put a finger under your chin, tilting your face up. “Look at me. I’m the happiest I've been in years! Do you really think I give a rats ass about what anyone’s got to say about me? My personal life has never been anyone’s concern except mine and yours. The only other person who has any say in this is Max. And that kid doesn’t shut up about you.”

Sam’s eyes were scorching, melting against the night sky.

“Molly’s wonderful, and I know she has a soft spot for me. But by the end of the day, it's just gossip. There’s no substance to it. So will you please drop it?”

At long last you nodded. 

“That’s like my Y/N.”

A rustle from the other side of Sam’s fence made you stiffen. The bushes behind the planks began to shake.

“What’s that?”

Sam shrugged. “Probably Alex sneaking out.”

You frowned at him. “Didn’t she break her arm doing exactly that?”

He snorted. “When has that stopped teenagers? It does make life a bit difficult. Jody’s grounded her. She can’t babysit Max for a while and I got work tomorrow.”

You saw Alex creeping on the sidewalk in front of the lawn. She saw the two of you huddled and froze like a deer caught in the headlight. Sam winked and waved a salute at her. After a minute she unfroze, returned the gesture and went off on her way. 

“Why don’t you drop him off at the library in the morning? I’ll keep an eye on him. I’m covering the first shift.” You worked to not sound too excited.

“Yeah, that still doesn’t fix the afternoon. I won’t be back before four.”

“Easy. I’ll wait with him here.”

Sam looked at you, hazel eyes wondrous. “You’d do that?”

“Sure. I owe him a pie anyway.”

“You’re a lifesaver!” He exhaled. “Seriously, I could kiss you right now!”

All you had to do was look up. Sam was right there.

Another crash sounded over the fence, louder than the first, followed by a muted ‘ow.’  You saw lights flare up in what must be the living room. From somewhere inside you heard Jody curse. “Jesus fucking Christ! Claire, what’re you doing on the ground.”

“Why do you always have to catch me!” Claire whined in the darkness. “Alex just left!”

“What. The. Fuck!” Jody yelled. “Get in the fucking car! We’re going to find your sister.”

That did it for you as you buried your face in Sam’s chest, smothering the giggles. His arms wrapped tightly around you. Sam himself was shaking with silent laughter over you.

Yeah, this was pretty close to heaven.

*********************

A/N 2: Thank you for all the support over the last week. 

Sam was right when he said-  “You and I, we know what the truth is. How does it matter what anyone else says?”

I’m going to take his advice :)

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

ALLU taglist:

@gabavaldman​  @im-a-light-child​  @cosicas-cuquis​  @bllyjianne​  @hoboal87​  @i-is-for-inspiring​  @daughterleftbehind​  @wackiekebab​  @mylovelydame21​   @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba​  @superbadassnatural​  @babypink224221​  @badlittlehabit99​  @anathewierdo​  @sams-bubblegum-bitch​   @fandomoverdose666​  @superstarmarvel​  @atc74​  @aiofheavenandhell​  @rebel-author-chick​  @death-unbecomes-you​  @cookiechipdough​  @kbl1313​  @linki-locks11​  @miss-nerd95​  @sunflowers-n-rocknroll​  @stoneyggirl​  @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​  @niyahgray​  @traceyaudette​  @blueaura​  @awfulmoons​  @waterlily502  @mrsbatesmotel53  @superblyscrumptiousdonut2   @spn-ficfanatic​  @threstalsaregood @shesnotmaria​

[duskyskz]

Blueberry Claws - H.H.J

Warnings - Halloween Au, mentioned assault, choking, Hyunjin!Dom mild tones, slight violence

Word Count - 4.7K

A/N - ahaha this .. turned out way longer than I meant to ohno I'm sorry Hyunjin had my heart in a vice grip lately

Part of @nightshade-minho and @mini-meanhoe 's Halloween collab!

*********************************

Elbow deep in ruddy earth, you kneel among the undergrowth of your garden, plucking away stray roots and weeds. It’s not your favourite part of the day, but you pride yourself in the exquisite berries your growth produces, and adequate sunlight is a must in bringing the sweetest fruits. Autumnal chills creep down your spine, warning you of setting sun and cooler nights looming over the forest horizon. It is a quaint little house, settled carefully between the curve of the river and the forest border, a hat’s toss away from the village settlement, and you enjoy it that way - far away enough for privacy and undisturbed peace, yet not isolated enough to be unreachable and dreary. 

People weren't the only viable company, anyway. Your neighbors came in the form of passing badgers rummaging through your compost, squirrels and mice poking their noses through cracks in your windowsill while you bake, the sweet smell of sugar and jams luring in a furry audience you felt obliged to entertain, tossing crumbs and peels into the open yard. 

“Croak!” 

You raise your head away from the mud at the screech, glancing upward. 

“Hello.” You greet your most recent visitor. The magpie quickly climbed upon your friendlist, introducing itself with a persistent knock of its beak against your poor kitchen windowpane. It came back the next evening, and the one after that, never missing more than a day in it’s routine to rob you of your pie crusts. 

“Are you hungry?” 

“Croak!” You suppose that’s a yes, considering the intensity with which the bird stares down at your precious blueberries. 

“Come on, then. Lunch wouldn’t hurt me, either.” 

***

“Can you believe that - that witch!” You stomp along the pavement to your front door, slamming it open. “The audacity to even imply my pies are anything but organic!”

Positively fuming, you don't entertain the absurdity of venting your frustrations to a corvid. At times, you think to yourself the little blackbird almost understands you - head tilting in accordance with your words, nodding when appropriate and watching your dutifully as if awaiting continuation. 

Then it’s attention switches from your wild gesticulations to the fresh batch of muffins cooling on your counter, and your suspicions of a higher intelligence disappears, leaving you to sweep cake crumbs off it’s feathers. No, plunging neck-deep into hot cake is not wise, you’d point out later. 

***

Maybe the loneliness does get to you after all. It’s a little embarrassing to admit how reliant you become on the magpie’s company. Its’ shrill croaks and glassy eyes became a comfort to you, a presence your day no longer felt complete without. Brushing your fingertips over the delicate feathers on its back, you rest your chin on your other palm. 

“It’s a dreary winter coming, birdie.” You muse, humming at the overcast sky. Masses of grey and washed out blues tumblr over the hills, warning you of approaching snows and rains. “I should fix the roof hatching tomorrow morning - be a shame to freeze my toes off before the solstice, wouldn’t it?” 

 The magpie doesn’t reply, and you don’t expect it to, but the slow blinks as you speak convince you your words don’t fall on deaf ears. 

“As long as I don’t have someone warming my bed, I better do all the warming myself.” Springin to your feet, you set to work on tidying the front yard. 

“Would you care to join me to fetch new hay for the roof tomorrow?” 

Your unconventional companion opens his beak, groaning. Then it snaps down into the ground, impaling one of your finest strawberries. 

Ah, well. 

You can only guess what a magpie must tend to in a day - you weren’t about to keep it from important bird tasks.

***

Your window panes quiver with the force of the hurricane, creaking sadly in their wooden frames. You have no idea what time it could possibly be, but judging by the time already passed since sundown, it’s way into the late night. Dismorphed figures haunt the outside, shadows passing over your bedroom like a predator, and you burrow deeper under your covers. Of course, approaching winter was harsh. In the hillside, mountain winds rolled down rocky foundations to crash into your humble home with rapid force. Turning onto your side, you press your head against the pillow to mute the whistle of the wind through your thin walls. You’d patched the roof last week - but you had yet to insulate the walls fresh, and chills made themselves known through cracks and gaps in last year’s worn overlay. 

With a soul-crushing snap, your window is thrown open as the lock gives way to hurricane, two fragile glass planes whipping open into the dead of night as you curse your luck and scramble out of bed to grasp the handles before they’re torn off entirely.

Yet something past the glass grabs your gaze before you can pull them shut, petrifying you in place. You don’t know if it’s the rain freezing your feet to the ground, or the unfiltered terror, but you can’t even scream as your eyes meet the vividly yellow ones across your garden.

Hunched above your blueberry bush, in a cloak of pitch black, stands a creature you’ve only seen in manic sketches in the village hall prior to tonight. Its’ spine seems bent, somehow, too long and too skewerd to fit precisely in its body, leaving two lumps protruding from its back. In a pale face, boxed in by wisps of black, you can only focus on two luminous eyes, zeroing in on your figure with far too much attention for your liking. 

In its knifed claws it grips a branch of your favourite plant, mangled and weeping blueberry juice onto the dirt. Maroon splatters blot the beast’s face, but you don’t gaze long enough to separate fruit from the blood of some poor soul. 

Maybe your blood will be next on its beak. 

Yanking the window shut, you tumble into your bed, curling as tight as you can into the duvet, shielding your head. Maybe it’ll go away if you don’t make noise, holding your hands to your ears. 

Maybe it’ll just go away.

***

It’s been three days since the storm, and coincidentally, three day since you’ve last seen your closest friend. Really, mayhaps this was a sign your friendship should extend elsewhere, and not the local corvid populace. Shovelling pastries into your hamper, you venture out into the open air for the first time since that night.

You’re still unable to clean the wreckage in your front yard. Somehow, the thought of laying your hands on the same branches that unknown horror touched fills you with dread, and you can’t bring yourself to rid the leftover mess. You had enough jams and preserves stockpiled to last you the whole winter if need be - if you weren’t financially obliged to sell most of them, anyway. 

Fitting yourself with a scarf to guard from temperamental weather, you wrap the wool tightly up to your nose as the first leaves fall from the oaks beside you. 

You love your town, you really do. 

The whimsy of nearby streams rolling over lustrous green fields is a wonder to wake up to every morning, and the walk into town is always a pleasant meander under centuries-old oaks and pine trees, spying on the conversations of woodpeckers and crows.

Yet, among all the commotion, you find yourself missing one particular croak. Never quite the same elegant cry as the other birds, but particular and endearing in its own right. 

And entirely missing from your life for half a week.

Passing the stone gates, you keep to the right of the road to make space for idle carts and horses wandering the streets. Carefully, you unload all your stock onto the market table - this stand has your name carved into the wooden leg, and you pride yourself on being a regular enough attendant to warrant a reserved place. 

The day flurries by you in a mess of clinking jam jars and passing coins. Afternoon had already set in a while ago, traversing into the evening by the time you begin wrapping up your last sale. Bidding goodbye to the market staff, you hoist your (significantly lighter) basket over your forearm, leaving the town square. It’s not dark yet, bare wisps of the night inking over your head as the sun lowers over the woods, letting you lose your train of thought in the scenery.

You feel the last pricks of stress leave you as your thoughts drift to the hallowing creature from nights ago. Perhaps your mind, in its hazy and exhausted stade, played up the vivid shadows and reflections in the moonlight? Yes, surely. There’s no way an animal this size and fright roamed your woods unacknowledged - The only terror you knew was the fabled warlock, but nobody has seen his face in decades. You weren’t even sure what he looked like. All tales of warlocks the library gave you marked them as haunted men, selling their soul for mastery of dark arts, giving up their limbs for a hint of inhuman power. Some had horns, you’d read. Some, a devilish tail winding between their legs, while some gave up their own eyes and replaced them with animal counterparts for better senses. 

It scared you more than you’d like to admit, the more you entertained the possibility of a being so twisted hiding in the depths of your woods - but was Hwang Hyunjin even real, or a figment of townsfolk imagination? 

Entangled in your own head, you fail to notice the arm lashing out to grab your elbow and yank you violently sideways, slamming your back into the brick wall between two buildings. 

“Ouch!” You rasp out, catching your breath, but your scream is broken by the hand quickly winding around your throat.

Great, after a shitty week you were going to get robbed, too! 

“Don't you try open your mouth again, you little bitch.” A coarse voice hissed against your cheek. You tried to reel away from the terrible stench of his breath, but with your back against the wallside, it was impossible to weasel out. “Made quite a pretty penny at the market today, didn’t ya?”

A large, cold hand snuck down your waist, over the ribbons tying your corset shut, and you were sure you’d retch when clammy fingers started tugging at the knot. 

“Where are you hiding it, then? Down your vest?” One sharp pull leaves your corset flying open, exposing your skin to freezing night air, shielded only by a thin undershirt. You try to shake your head, but the hold on your neck makes it impossible to even curse. “That’s a bit thin, isn’t it? Not much to hide under such flimsy fabric -”

“Shit!”

You heave in a breath as the tightness around your throat suddenly wanes, disappearing, and all weight lifts from you. Eyes watering from the lack of oxygen, you blink rapidly to clear your vision, stumbling back as you find focus. 

Shrill cries tear from your assailant, angry red oozing from the gash above his left eye, arms flailing maniacally to chase away the blur of feathers thrashing around his head. Slinking down to catch your breath, you pull your knees to your chest to steady your breathing, though the scene before you grows more gruesome every time you blink. 

You can’t tear your eyes away, even as the bird dives down again, embedding its razor claws in the man’s eye socket. The screams are terrifying, but you don’t have the thought to wonder how no one else came to check the commotion. 

Maybe nobody wanted to.

In muted horror, you watch as the man finally lands a hit, thrashing the tiny bird into the wall opposite with a numbing crack, spinning on his heel to face you once more, though his one eye struggles to find your face. He stumbles forward, lurching in your direction, drops of fresh blood flying at your feet.

“What are you, a witch? I should burn you alive -”

Smack!

You’re sure you’re hallucinating as he topples to the pavement, struck by a surprise force. Hunched over him, in a flurry of black feather, sits a mass you know  you’ve seen before. For a moment you think, another bird? A whole flock? But then the feathered cape shifts, raises, and you realise it’s one pair of  heavy-set wings protruding from a broad back, arms poised to strike over and over at a target long void of defense. You feel sick - everything that unravelled in the last few moments makes your stomach churn, and you vomit onto the floor between your feet. You can’t watch the blood any longer, listen to the crunching sound of tendons snapping and bone breaking, rolling over as you feel your legs give way to jelly.

***

You can feel yourself swaying, gently. You don’t feel the ground, but you know you’re moving, head balanced on something pillowy and warm, but still solid - what a weird combination. 

There’s something holding you up by your legs, and another clutching onto your back. You have half the mind to open your eyes when you’re coherent enough to, knowing you should be alarmed given the situation you just vaguely avoided. But this is nice. Your lift your eyelids barely enough to take in your position, head propped carefully on a shoulder. You can’t see much beyond the collarbone your nose is tucked into without outing yourself as awake, so you settle for breathing in deep, lulling your nerves with the scent of ash and fern. It's safe, comforting somehow, in a way you’ve never felt comforted in. Your forehead grazes his cheek, tips of his dark hair tickling your skin as you heave out a sigh and press your face deeper against the warmth. 

“I’m sorry I left you, Birdie.”

His voice is gentle, too. You let it ring in your head, soft whispers and words you can't quite decipher but appreciate nonetheless lulling you back into shallow sleep. You recognise your surroundings by the shift of light, stepping out from the tree canopy into wide hillside, catching last rays of sunlight. 

You think he’s going to wake you and ask for a key, but your front door grants him access with just a single flick of his wrist under your knee. You’ll have to ask him about that later.

Nudging his way inside, ducking to fit past the low doorframe, your saviour swiftly marches to your bedroom, confirming your suspicions. The layout of your house was entirely too familiar to him for it to be the first time he’s visited the premises. Or the second, if you count the night visit three days back. When he lowers you onto the mattress, it's with such care your heart skips in your chest, and you pray he doesn’t hear it stop entirely when you feel his fingertips brush over your shoulder to pull the blankets over you, strong arms straining under his shirt as he moves your head from his shoulder and you immediately miss the heat. There’s a cup of water by your bedside that wasn’t there before, and when satisfied with your placement, he steps away. Your eyes blink open fully when you feel his presence leave your side. 

“Are you leaving?” Your voice sounds small even to you. 

“I wasn’t sure you’d want me around.” He answers after a hesitant pause, kneeling by your bed. “You - You looked really scared that night. I never want you to be scared of me.” 

You sit up, reaching for the glass of water which he swiftly passes to you to soothe your throat and wash out remaining bile. Your skin still burns in the places that asshole touched you, and you hiss when your fingers rub the sore spots on your neck, before a larger hand wraps around your palm, bringing it down to glare at the bruise.

“I won’t apologize for what happened to him, though.” The venom in his voice makes you still. “That filth got what he deserved - I should have taken his other eye, too.” 

“...Is he dead?” You’re not sure you should ask.

“No. I left him breathing, but I can’t guarantee someone will find him in time.” 

“You left him blind, that’s enough Hyunjin.” His head snaps up at the name, as if he didn’t expect the confrontation. “You’re the magpie that’s been visiting my garden this summer, aren’t you? You’re the fabled terror in our woods.”

You say the last part with a smile, but the warlock  lowers his head still, glancing down at the blanket curving over your hips.

“....Yeah.” He mumbles, observing the many silver rings at his knuckles. “Is that too much for you?”

“What do you mean?” You scrunch your nose, confused, when he doesn’t elaborate. 

“At first I just came to visit because of the garden, but every time you saw me you’d talk to me like I was a person - Like I could understand. And I know you talk to the others too, like that ugly goose -” You want to scold him for calling Truffles ugly, but he carries on without pause. “But in my head it was just, nice. Even if I couldn’t reply, whenever you speak, there’s no darkness in me. Nothing but you.”

Hyunjin frowns, not wanting to meet your eyes yet. His hand grips the edge of your duvet, straining the fabric as his wings twitch.

“I was so fucking mad at myself when you saw me. You looked so small, so petrified - and of me. And as much as I wanted to take you into my arms and reassure you I couldn’t.” 

You can’t deny it, you were scared then. But knowing the man before you now, the events of today and the large part thunder and your own exhaustion played into your fear that night, you felt none of the apprehension now, resting your hand atop his shaking ones. 

“Maybe you wouldn’t want to see me again, if you’d guessed what I was after that. So I let you be, watching from a distance, because I couldn’t bring myself to let go completely. And today, fuck -” He runs a clawed hand through his locks, pushing hair out of his face to finally look at you, golden eyes rooting you to your spot. “I should have snapped both his legs for even thinking to touch you.”

“But maybe that’s my own vice.” You watch soft pink lips form words you’re not sure are real. They could have been your own imagination, for how quietly he speaks. “Maybe my love would be too much for you.” 

The silence that follows his confession is crushing to both of you, for entirely different reasons. 

You barely wrap your head around the idea of being loved by him before he pulls his hand away from yours, accepting rejection he knew was coming. It’s not until he stands that you breathe in, catching the edge of his jacket before he can leave you again.

“It’s not.” You state. “It’s not too much.”

You hope he doesn’t mistake the quiver in your voice for doubt, because you’ve never been so sure of something in your life. 

“Do you mean that?” The hopeful lilt to his voice sparks your heart alight, he’s at your side in seconds, long feathers sweeping the floor below his feet as he moves. “Are you sure you want me the same way I want you?”

“I do.”

You nod to reassure him, sliding further down the bed to make space for his larger frame. Hyunjin slinks in next to you, crawling over to hover above you, taking in the way you look finally beneath him. His feathers block out most light, sun long set. You can barely see, but before you can complain about missing his ethereal beauty, a candle flickers alight by your window, and another on your bedside table. Another, and yet one more afterward, until your bedroom filters in a warming glow from a dozen shy fires. 

Ah, warlock things. 

“It’s okay,” Hyunjin hesitates still, lips stopping millimeters away from yours as the last strings of hesitation cling to his thoughts until you urge him to move. “You can touch me.”

His lips are warmer than anything you’ve ever felt, moving over your mouth like fine malt wine. There’s a quiver in his hands when he brings a palm down to cradle your cheek, running his thumb over the smooth skin as his tongue runs over your teeth. 

You don’t notice your legs spreading open to allow him between your thighs until his knee bumps against your core, bundling your skirts in his fist to pull them down and off. 

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve waited to have you under me like that, birdie.” Hyunjin whispers. “All for me, at my mercy - you look so good like that.”

The irony of him using your own nickname for him on you is lost in the moment you arch your back into his touch, pressing your still corseted chest against his palm. Every place he touches has you needing more of him, every part you can reach. 

“Undress me, please.” 

“Gladly.” Nimble fingers pluck the bow of your shirt open, lifting it over your head. In the cocoon of his wings and candle light, you feel a love you’ve never known before. Discarding his own shirt next, you hardly have a moment to take in the exquisite expanse of his chest before your field of vision is taken up with glimmering navy feathers, Hyunjin’s head dipping to swirl his tongue over your nipple. Your grip in his hair makes him keen against your chest, groaning over the sensitive flesh between his teeth.

“Are you - You’re a virgin?” The idea of him being the first to make you feel so open, the only person to see you react to such intimate touch gets him harder than Hyunjin thought possible. 

“Ah, yeah…” You nod. Were your reactions so telling? You suddenly felt even smaller, caged between his arms and the pillows, watching his tamarind eyes flicker.

“I’ll love you well, birdie. Don’t worry.” He blows cool air onto your damp bud and you feel like crying. One hand leaves the space by your head, pinching your other peak. At first gently, testing how far he could push your limits to get you melting at his touch, then harder when you moan at the slight burn. 

Your hips rise to rub against his thigh, unknowingly seeking out friction to aid the dampness gathering in your underwear. His hand meets you there, slipping a finger under the band of your panties to snap it against your skin for your impatience, and you still immediately, recognising his dominance even without prior warning. 

“Be good and wait. If I own you, I’m taking my time with you.” There’s a hard edge in his voice, something about the empty threat makes you want to push his buttons until he snaps. 

You don’t need to wait much longer.

Ridding you of the last scrap of clothing you had left, Hyunjin has you bare and displayed, every part on show and within his reach. Slower than you can take, he drags his thumb on the inside of your thigh, kissing and nibbling the delicate skin just inches away from your dripping cunt. When his thumb finally, finally rubs a circle against your clit you whine his name so loud he nearly bites down hard. Still, he holds his pace, pressing his thumb in patient patterns against your nub as his teeth mark up your thighs.

“Jinnie, go harder, please.”

You know you fucked up when he glances up at you, brows quirking in amusement. 

“I said I’ll take care of you, y/n. If you want to cum, lay there and take it.”

You’re thankful he has a shred of mercy for your sanity, because your pleas seem to have a marginal effect on his movement. 

You eat your words when Hyunjin forces two fingers inside your already wet slit, scissoring you open with harsh flicks of his wrist. His lips remain stuck to your clit, and the sudden assault on your senses has tears rushing down your cheeks.

“W-Wait! Hyun, wait, I don’t want to cum yet!” You don’t really believe he’ll listen.

“Don’t you? But I thought you wanted me to hurry, birdie?” The mockery in his voice makes you clench, and you’d flush if you weren’t so close to orgasm. “For someone not ruined before, you beg for a dick so well.”

“No...Not yet, I wanna cum on you, please.” 

Hyunjin can resist many things - spells, curses. Killing a man on multiple occasions. 

Your whimpering voice as you beg for him to take your virginity in your own bed, wrapped around his fingers and blushing from his tongue is not one of those things. 

“Fuck, okay.”

Pulling his fingers out, your lips part at the emptiness, but your nerves prickle with knowledge of what awaits you next. Hyunjin is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, sweat dampening his forehead and eyes peering right into your heart whenever your gazes meet. You’re hypnotised by the way muscles in his back tense when he kneels between your thighs, urging you to open up for his fit. You only catch the briefest sight of his length, but it’s enough to make you gasp in anticipation at the size and thickness of his base. 

“You’re sure you want me?” Your legs wrap around his waist as he asks, not yet penetrating you, only resting his length on your slick core. 

“I want you more than anything I’ve ever dreamed of, Hyunjin.” You channel all your love and trust into your words, daring yourself to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. 

Feeling the stretch of him is euphoric, inch by inch, more than any discomfort could hope to reach. Your focus on the flex of his forearm propping him up beside your head, the tantalizing way his mouth curls in a moan of your name when he bottoms out, placing his seal on you completely. 

“Tell me when I can move, alright?” 

“N-Now, you can move. Please move.” You’re gonna go insane if he doesn’t ravage you right now, digging your nails into his bicep. Hyunjin starts off slowly, gentle languid strokes brushing over your walls. With every move, he feels you relax, the tension in your legs loosening into desperate longing as you pull him deeper into you, trapping him against your body.

You open your eyes only to grab his hand, wrapping it around your throat. His hips stutter, before he grips you fully, squeezing the sides of your neck until your moans turn to broken cries of his name.

“You’re such a cute little whore, love. What a dirty pussy you’ve been holding out on me.”

The smirk he looks down on you with is downright filthy, degrading every shred of dignity you had left, but you don’t take in anything but him, his hips slamming you into the mattress and the hot breath against your ear. “Are you gonna cum from that? My good girl, just like that...Let go and cum under me.”

He pulls his hand away from your neck, allowing you to heave in a breath and scream his name. Hyunjin holds you down by your wrists above your head, thrusting relentlessly as you cum around him, shaking and sobbing from the overstimulation at your centre. He allows himself to release then, as your whimpers quieten and he rides out your highs with you, filling you to the brim. 

You stay entwined for a moment as you catch your shaky breath, coming out of the headspace Hyunjin fucked you into. When he pulls out, you fight the urge to clamp your legs shut as he holds your thighs apart, admiring the way his cum spills out of your rawed hole. 

“Let me clean you first, birdie.” 

You nearly drift off in the blissed-out feeling that envelops you as he wipes your legs clean with a warm, damp cloth, stroking over tingling bruises with adoration. 

When he’s finally satisfied with your state, Jinnie allows you to tug him back into bed with you, arms immediately coiling around your middle to press you into his chest, nose nuzzling against the crown of your head to breathe in your scent. 

“I meant every word I said.” He mentions, speaking against your forehead. His lips tickle you with every word and you’re so tempted to kiss him again just because you can. “ I really do love you.”

“I know, Jinnie. I love you too.”

****

Tag list - @defsbxessi @godlyaj @palet-innie

[a-slut-for-smut]

what are your top 10 relationships in aot?

Hmm very interesting question anon- thanks for asking! Idk if i can really rank them since i only have the one OTP, but i can certainly give my 2 cents on the most popular pairings, according to the interwebs.

2 things to keep in mind:

i dont hate/dislike any pairing. I dont care enough to waste energy doing so. I like what i like, other people like what they like- simple as that, i cant understand why its so hard for ppl to grasp this concept

You may be wondering about my recent tag usage because ive been tagging a lot of diff ships- mainly for my anti-SNK139 shitposts. Just had a wild idea that maybe- JUST MAYBE, we could all put aside our differences and just have a laugh at our shared misery. Because idk how any of us are supposed to be happy with this ending. I mean, upon reflection I see what Isayama was going for, but idk its just tough to swallow unlike Levi's fun juice. Which, in my opinion, should be taken as a compliment- the man set the bar so high with the previous arcs that our expectations were thru the roof despite a rushed final arc, and he just...missed the dunk? Anyway hot take, i know.

Ok i digress- to the ask, in no particular order:

Levihan

Cute ship, very fluffy. Who doesn't like best friends to lovers trope? And theres no denying they have mutual respect for each other, which is a huge kink of mine. Honestly, its hard for me to ship a pairing if it isn't evident. That said, does this pairing get my ovaries going? Eh, not particularly but i still likies

Erehisu

I was behind this ship mainly because i was sold on Eren's "Walter White" villain arc. What better catalyst for a dramatic change in character than if their child was involved? The idea that Eren went full Hitler because he got Historia preggers and wanted the child to grow up in a "free" world? What parent wouldnt sell their soul for that goal, given the world they live in? And Historia- grappling with the knowledge/morality of Eren's plan but for the sake of the child? Prime for character development. Not to mention all the blatant crumbs. But Isayama went NOPE.

Eremika

Oh boy. So, firstly, i would have readily accepted this ship if Isayama laid off the one-sidedness a bit. But he didnt. And while im sure there are instances that can be interpreted as mutual affection, i dont see how that excuses all the times Eren snapped at her/just generally annoyed with her attentions. Like, we dont know his POV at all until the very end which retroactively you can say, oh he didnt want to cause her future pain? But by then its too late for US. And in the end (im not clear on this tho/too lazy to check) was it ever made clear to Mikasa that he reciprocated her feelings? Im prob biased/self-projecting here, but I would NOT have stuck around on the off-chance that the dude is faking his disinterest?? Even if he did save my life and is my childhood friend! You dont owe someone love because of that, but because of how you mutually treat one another. Anyway i woulda taken the fucking hint and moved onto Levi's dick, i would never put up with that nonsense

Eruri

These 2 are bonded, to say the least. They hold each other in high regard and i love that about any ship. Good stuff.

Ereri

Doesn't do much in the ovary-dept for me relationship-wise, but man, this ship is popular for a reason. The fanart for this ship is TOP TIER 

Yumihisu

Again, they regarded each other highly and theres no denying they deeply cared for one another. Sometimes love doesnt give a shit what genitals you happen to have, why cant ppl understand this? We all got hearts and souls, that counts for something??

Aruani

The energy for this ship is a little tepid for me. Maybe because her ass was stuck in a crystal 70% of the story, but i liked pre-crystal annie alot. If anything, i preferred her dynamic with Eren more, mainly because Eren respected her so much and she contributed a lot to his character growth in the first arc. Just my preferred dynamic for a ship. Also she kicked his ass so much i was beginning to think he was into it

Jeankasa

Dont mind it at all. I think it lacks a certain degree of intensity that i prefer in my ships, but theres def mutual respect there and im all for it.

Jeanpiku

Thought this was a cute ship that came to bloom in the later chapters. its intriguing dynamic- falling in love with the (former) enemy kind of way.

Rivamika

Uh. Where to start. Actually i wont because this post is long enough as is. Just peruse my blog if you're actually curious ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

[honkster]

Yay meta

:)

1. Ranboo compared to the other anarchists of the server.

2. C!Tommy’s mental health.

3. C!Dream as an immortal insane god.

4. Ghostbur’s resurrection.

5. Who betrayed who Techno vs Tommy edition.

A bit of an after-thought - everyone on the SMP is traumatized. Absolutely everyone, no one is handling everything in a mentally healthy way. That’s why it’s meaningless to try to say what’s wrong and what’s right, that’s why it’s all morally grey - everyone is doing things because of their own warped perception of the world, the right and wrong blur when everyone thinks that they’re right and everyone else is wrong. Trying to justify someone’s actions with logic and moral righteousness is inherently time-wasting, because everyone is acting how their feelings let them at the time.

Saying who’s right or wrong, trying to figure out villains and good guys <<< Analyzing characters by their actions and trying to understand WHY rather than SHOUD THEY HAVE.

Probably a bit of a backwards way to say that I don’t care if Tommy or Techno are wrong in their argument - L’manburg was destroyed, Tommy thinks Techno is bad. That’s the end of that story, stay tuned for what Tommy’s gonna do now.

<_><_><_><_><_> <_><_><_><_><_>

#1

There is just a very huge difference between Ranboo and the other two anarchists of the server.

Ranboo, while being strong in his beliefs, is a non-violent person. Yes he’s stacked, yes he could fight, but he chooses to stay on the sidelines and just watch the action unfold. He’d rather listen in to people and then make conclusions about their actions and decide on things by himself. He’s hard to sway, Quackity may have softened his viewpoint slightly, and I genuinely hope that Ranboo follows through with that and decides that teams and groups is something that kind of needs to happen before the idea that all conflicts are a personal thing between two people can actually make sense. People are stronger together, especially those that don’t have good gear or pvp skills. The weaker people, the ones lower in the food chain, don’t have that many options for getting their point across. The server is already dominated by the strongest, most skilled, most geared people, and those are the people that matter, when it comes down to it.

Quackity is very much a unique case. He has managed to do with four people what L’manburg and all of its inhabitants didn’t manage for the longest time. He is very much a main player.

The other two anarchists are both very violent. Dream was always like that, he hasn’t shown a crumb of being able of change or considering a different opinion (extreme delusions or just extreme self-confidence? Either one makes him a prick), but Techno actually had an arc where he made the entirely wrong conclusions.

I don’t think I’ve talked about the Butcher Army much.

So Techno blew up Manberg, threatened to take down any government that sprouted up and then dipped. He made his little cottage, he went on a retirement arc, so on and so forth.

But then the Butcher Army formed.

And their one target was the pig.

And they went out of their way to track him down, to prepare to kill him, they arrived there and threatened him, and they said that it’s time for Techno to pay for his crimes, and they reacted how anyone else would when being attacked – they attacked too. They took his horse to get him to stop, they brought him up for execution, they didn’t manage to kill him, but they switched targets once they realized that they can’t actually kill him while literal god is on his side, helping him.

The conclusion there wasn’t that government is evil and abuses its power. It’s that violence is paid forward with violence.

It doesn’t really matter that Techno misunderstood. Either way he would’ve returned to good old Blood for the Blood God Technoblade, but I fear that this event reinforced his very wrong belief that government is the source of ALL problems on the server.

If he would say that government is the cause of MAJOR conflicts that wouldn’t happen if government didn’t exist, yeah! Yeah, I agree with that actually. But he’s saying that EVERY conflict is because of government.

The disc war was not because of government.

The Pet War was not because of government.

Most of the rivalries of the server are not because of government.

Tommy was not… Actually (yeah Tommy was exiled because of government and the fact that the sentimentality for L’manburg seemed very important at that point. Things shouldn’t be more important than people, people you can’t just replace. But…) Dream specifically when he went after Tommy targeted L’manburg. If the country didn’t exist, Dream probably would have gone about it another way, probably one more difficult, but he wouldn’t have involved all these people whose only connection to one another is a flimsy city built on stilts. I still hate how Techno refuses to acknowledge that Dream WAS the cause of Tommy’s exile, not government.

But what if Techno was big brain?

Yeah, things shouldn’t be more important than people. Is that what he’s suggesting? That government favors power over giving up land/buildings/countries for their people, knowing that if they lost their country they would no longer have power?

That would be very interesting!… If his actions actually indicated this.

Techno didn’t chunk error L’manburg because he thought those buildings gave power to someone over another. He did it out of revenge, claiming that it still lined up with his anarchist beliefs and that he was doing good. Techno released withers, the most destructive and hard-to-kill mob available to the server, he stalled while Dream essentially set up nukes above the city. They didn’t do this out of kindness and want for the people to have freedom, they KILLED the people that they were so “graciously” “saving”.

Technoblade and Dream are both violent anarchists who misunderstood what the word means. They don’t seek order in the chaos, they don’t seek a peaceful anarchy, they just want blood.

Which makes me very worried for Ranboo. I don’t think that he will get influenced by the two, if the two ever come back together to stir up shit again. I don’t think Ranboo is going to believe Technoblade when he says that government is the cause of ALL problems, because Ranboo doesn’t just hate the factions of the server. He has said that Dream is the reason for a lot of conflict on the server, he understands what Dream is up to. If he will agree with Techno at the beginning, he certainly will find issue in Techno considering Dream a worthy ally.

I just hope that Techno LISTENS for at least once in his life.

(But I won’t be too sad if it’s Phil Ranboo manages to convince. Might actually be easier to get through to anarchist pig Blade that way…)

<_><_><_><_><_> <_><_><_><_><_>

#2

I worry for c!Tommy’s mental health.

I know this probably is never going to get addressed rather than that one tiny little plot point where he got exiled for no reason but being as resilient as Tommy is, so constantly himself without apology, so constantly in everyone’s faces and just out there so much, so purposefully annoying just because it’s entertaining for him… I don’t think he’s alright.

The many times he has been beaten down, how many times people have battled him and won, how many times he’s told to shut up and just take it – it makes you wonder how come he hasn’t just given up by now and toned it down so people stop hating him.

Yeah, he’s resilient. Yeah, he’s annoying that way. But I seriously doubt that he can take all that he takes and still be perfectly okay.

One insult means nothing. One time can be just a made up thing to make you pissed off.

Same thing twice? Someone’s just mocking you.

Three times? Wow okay these guys must all be friends and they gossip about me!

Four times?… Hey how big is your friend group exactly?

Five times?…

Six times?…

Seven?…

How about 20.

No matter how ridiculous something that someone noticed about you may be, if repeated enough times, you almost sub-consciously start to believe it. Lots of people notice this – hey I can also notice it!

C!Tommy being annoying on purpose, saying that it’s just entertaining for him… Doesn’t that sound like a really depressing thing to enjoy? Something that garners you so much attention you literally get exiled?

And the fact that, even during Dream enforcing the exile, even when he escaped, when he appeared in Techno’s house and huddled under it like a raccoon, he was still so painfully annoying you just want to punt him?… Does that really sound like just a funny pastime for him and not a defense mechanism against all of the shit people put him through, something that he does out of habit because even though it gets him in trouble a lot of the time, it’s also the only way he can actually react to events and people threatening him, cause what is he gonna do, actually threaten them and get them to leave that way?

I dunno this may be dumb… I may be projecting slightly… Wondering where all of his resilience comes from when actual good things that happened because of him versus the bad things that people constantly blame him for… Sir where do you get that strength and how can I sell my soul for it?

<_><_><_><_><_> <_><_><_><_><_>

#3

Oh I’ve written characters that think of awful, violent things as fun…

I actually really like those characters.

I don’t know why I always make them the most traumatized, split-personality, abused and manipulated victims-turned-absolute-monsters.

No wait I do know why.

BECAUSE IF YOU THINK THAT CAUSING PAIN TO OTHERS IS A FUN TIME AND YOU WANT TO DO IT AS OFTEN AS YOU CAN JUST TO SEE THEIR EXPRESSION OF PAIN, THERE IS SOMETHING SERIOUSLY WRONG WITH YOU.

Dream’s no different. We haven’t seen much of him, other than his motivation and the fact that he goes the wrong way about thinking of means to get to the end. He hasn’t revealed a traumatic past or any real reason why he targets only one person if torturing everyone on the server would probably be way more “fun”.

But he is called god.

And THAT lines up with one of my favorite things to talk about!

Immortals :D

You see the whole concept of a god or an immortal being is at its core something we shouldn’t comprehend. Death and the fact that it will happen can be counted as a reason for a lot of our motivations, so how does it affect one’s thinking if one of our core reasons for life is erased?

I can dump a whole philosophical essay here but I feel like it is highly unnecessary. Dream, as an immortal god on the server, has access to stuff that many people have to grind hours of their life for. This twists his perception of the value of certain items, and also certain actions. The fact that he cannot die also affects that perception, and in his long life he has probably had the same thoughts a lot of immortals have – few things are meaningful in life, few are worth sacrificing things for and few are just as immortal as they are.

This, of course, can cause a little thing called an existential crisis, and it can break an immortal, especially if they were once human and most definitely mortal. We don’t know for sure what Dream is, but assuming either scenario makes his pursuit of fun and drama valid.

If he was once a human and by some dark magic gained immortality, his want to see how humans react to things being destroyed, or how humans fold under torture, may be a twisted way of analyzing himself, trying to understand how he could be a part of them, trying to reconnect with his old self, attempts to return to the mortal plane, there are many options but all firmly lead into “this is just a fun experiment for him”. How people throw mentos in a bowl and pour coke over it just to see an explosion. That’s Dream with the SMP.

If he was always a god, then it gets even more interesting (and thematically relevant!). He never understood these creatures that run around and desperately try to prevent death while simultaneously causing so much of it. If Dream doesn’t understand mortals and death as a concept, then his view of them, based on what he’s seen of the SMP, is that humans SEEK violence, and drama, and pain, and harm. They purposefully create meaningless things to then give them meaning and then feel pain over them. He is utterly confused by humans, but he also understands them quite well.

Taunted, insulted? Retaliate with force.

A country that demands peace? Blow it to smithereens.

A sentimental thing that you could literally replace within a fraction of a life, a little thing of pride that you were able to acquire?

It can control people.

And he seems to understand THAT concept of humanity perfectly well. The want for power, the seeking of control, the simple want to somehow be above your equals, somehow stand out and be admired.

Dream grasps that concept so well he might as well be human.

I don’t know if this humanity side of Dream will be his hubris, if the weakness he acquired from humans – sentimentality over objects that can very easily be replaced and mean nothing in the grand scheme of things – may actually come back after he so rudely pushed it away.

We don’t know enough about this guy. We can make some conclusions, sure, but uh… The simple fact that he causes chaos for fun means that whatever we may think the reason for his motivations is, we will probably fail to understand him as long as we think logically.

C!Dream is an absolute prick. I want to punt him.

But I won’t until he explains why he chose to be a bad copy of the Joker with immortality sprinkled on the fucked up cake.

<_><_><_><_><_> <_><_><_><_><_>

#4

Wilbur is coming back into the plot!

Not that Ghostbur isn’t important to the plot. His character is just stagnant because in order to give him proper char development you need to address some very serious mental issues and that’s not exactly something the SMP does often. (Most serious I’ve seen it is Tommy’s exile arc and maybe Fundy’s adoption stream)

So they’re bringing back Alivebur. What could possibly go wrong?

Everything. Literally everything.

I talked about it once, how if Ghostbur’s character wants to reach peace – finish his arc – firstly he has to confront his trauma. At the same time I said that if he was brought back to life, it could hinder his already done little progress of adapting to ghost life and probably reset him. Very certain conditions would have to be met in order for Ghostbur to gain something out of being brought back to life, and a lot of those conditions lean on Alivebur coming back as a certain “version” of himself, which cannot be predicted simply because there isn’t a resident ghost expert on the server. No one knows how these idiots work.

The worrying thing is that they are most definitely bringing back Alivebur. There wouldn’t be need for this plot otherwise. So they will definitely succeed, Alivebur will definitely be brought back, and he will be important to the plot.

What can we theorize about knowing those things?

Mmmm… Isn’t it weird that Ghostbur said he wants to quit being Ghostbur after L’manburg was destroyed? Is it a want to stop ignoring bad things that are happening, since he knows he is going to forget this and move on and he doesn’t want to keep escaping anymore? That’s a good motivation.

Or is it because Ghostbur is like the old spirit of L’manburg, both connected to it physically and mentally? Would Alivebur want L’manburg back, considering that was his only goal in his life, to destroy it, or is he finally going to feel fulfilled that it is over and his obsession with it can die?

I dunno! I have no idea what part they want Wilbur to play in the upcoming plot. It’s very unclear if Wilbur is going to be a side character that moves the plot in little ways or if he’s going to become the main character again or if, and this is probably my most likely theory, the resurrection fails at first and it leads the whole gang, with Ghostbur up front, down weird paths that somehow end with Dream.

(Cause we all know that guy is not going to just write himself out of the plot if he can instead continue being the villain)

It all feels like it’s going to connect, finally. All of the main people from the past getting back into the spotlight in a very convoluted plot to get one of them back into the land of the living.

Don’t really know though. Wondering how resurrection works, that’s all. Knowing that info, may be possible to make a better theory.

<_><_><_><_><_> <_><_><_><_><_>

#5

There is no one right in the “Tommy betrayed Techno” vs “Tommy realized Techno is not a good influence on him” argument. Neither one is right, but neither one is completely wrong. Neither character is in the right, or in the wrong, and it doesn’t really matter who’s right or wrong in this scenario, fact is it happened and the people reacted how they did.

There is only one thing to say about Techno and Tommy, and probably the only thing I’m kinda feeling very strongly about.

Sometimes the refusal to be swayed to another side or believing in yourself gets you called selfish.

That’s both about Techno and Tommy.

And a lot of other people on the server.

<_><_><_><_><_> <_><_><_><_><_>

Here’s a cookie for reading all of that. I can also bake your favorite muffin if you want :3

[overclocksaa]

anon / I am not sure if I’m right but I have a feeling Tonys recent acknowledgment of Howard’s abuse and how there’s a shift in how he speaks of dad is due to the MCU; early depictions Tony usually refrained from speaking ill of his dad and would mostly sugar coat his dads actions but that wasn’t the case with MCU Tony and like other stuff, comic writer just had to start doing it like the MCU .. which sucks. But, I guess, in-universe explanation is that Tony is finally releasing the abuse (though in recent comics Howard’s abuse has toned down, still awful stuff but not in your face .. which is an MCU thing as well 🙄). If only new writers paid enough attention to classic comics. 

i'd argue the opposite actually.  the mcu has glossed over a lot of stuff with tony - most specifically his alcoholism, which is a thing that pretty much exists very prominently in literally almost every other universe but they literally never addressed in any real fashion even a little bit because it was 'too dark', despite it being a core universal character trait - but also with howard's behavior and excusing it.  you know, a little video from when tony was a kid and one little conversation in endgame and we're supposed to draw the conclusion that howard wuved him all along.  which is...some real gross bullshit, as someone who identifies heavily with tony's abuse and his reactions to it.  the mcu excused it, really pulled the whole it was just tough love thing all along and made howard a sympathetic character and.  i am not here for that.  it's one of my many problems with the mcu as a whole but especially with the handling of tony.

(we don't want to start that conversation, though, because i'll literally never shut up.)

but you can reach back especially to the early 90s - i talked about tony's trip down memory lane during his death and cryofreeze recently - and howard's behavior is pretty much blatantly painted as being abusive.  both to tony himself and to maria.  like there's no real question there, it's obvious, it's very explicit.  

sidebar - if anything howard's actually gotten worse in the comics, since aaron's picked up that crumb of the howard and mephisto duo and run with it.  like howard's literally out there whacking people for mephisto now, and then we had the whole demon orgy for tony's soul going on, along with his trying to sell tony as a baby to dracula for immortality.  like sure, originally howard didn't need those kinds of influences to be awful from the get-go, but i wouldn't call that softening it even a little bit, personally.  i mean, you also have his stint in shield vol 1 where he basically talks about his family like they're just the hugest burden ever like...

honestly.  from the bottom of my heart.  fuck howard stark.

if anything, where the mcu tried to gloss over howard's awful behavior and just...general existence, the comics have gone the completely opposite direction and literally turned him into a demon worshipping, mustache twirling snidely whiplash.  which honestly, okay, whatever, still abuse, but i'll take what the comics are doing over what the mcu did.  (my salt!  about that endgame bullshit!!!  is never ending!!!!!)

anyway, tl;dr:  howard's always been kind of pointed out as being a Not Great Dad in the comics and him being out and out recognizably abusive (which too you have to understand the twenty years from tony's first appearance or so until his death from that spinal implant virus taking over his nervous system saw a lot of societal attitudes change in the real world, so that change is reflected in the comics, as well) but it really came to prominence in the very early 90s when we see it addressed as unacceptable behavior.  and i will literally never forgive the mcu for trying to give howard some kind of fucked up redemption moment like...he says one nice thing to tony not knowing it's tony and everything is all better and fixed now.  yeah fuck that.

[laufire]

Supernatural s2

I’m halfway through s3 already (technically a rewatch, but there were episodes I didn’t watch the first time around), so this post is a little overdue lol. At this rhythim the posts will overlap. Plus I’m hoping I can finish s4-5 during the holidays to see the ~intended ending~ before I have to slow down on the binge-watch. After that, a season a month sounds achievable AND won’t take longer than 2021 xD

ANYWAY.

-Overall, I’ve enjoyed it more than the first one, but at the same time I’ve found myself missing how... claustrophobic? Insular? Compact? That one was. s2 was about the world opening up just a little bit more, introducing new characters to the brothers’ life, etc. I do love the detail that this is something that can only have, narratively speaking, once John is dead. Again: this show gets abusive families, consciously or not.

-The foreshadowing is beautifully done. 15 seasons make for a lot of unintentional and ironic foreshadowing later on, I’m sure, but the purposeful foreshadowing is superb this season. About the crossroads deals, of course, but especially about John’s last words. I already knew he’d told Dean he might have to kill Sam (father of the year, seriously. Though I side-eye the fandom even more for always having acted as if this is only awful for Dean lol), so I was hyperaware of every single detail. My favourite moment was the absolute horror of hearing Gordon proudly, cheerfully relate how he murdered his sister when she became a vampire (which, btw, as someone that’s still bitter about what went down with the Gunn siblings on Angel, I found it healing to see something like that treated as a horror story).

-Speaking of Gordon: I unashamedly love his character lmfao. Sterling K. Brown is mesmerizing, always. At the same time, I have serious mixed feelings (especially after seeing his arc in full in s3) because man, if it isn’t a racist mess. I’ve mentioned this before, but it’s not exactly revolutionary that the first time we see the story from the monster’s POV (something I want the show to do! Often!), it’s when white monsters are stalked and brutalized by our first black hunter. Especifically a white woman, btw (although I’m happy to see Tara Maclay as a brunette vampire. I didn’t know I needed that in my life, but I did). And you can tell that the show thinks it’s just so SMART and FUNNY to have a ~racist black hunter!! I mean, the comment about how psychic kids would be “betraying their race” if they allied with demons?? FFS.

And ofc there’s the fact that he’s condemned for the exact same type of stuff that makes Dean be hailed as a hero lmfao. Though I won’t like, I love the moment where, faced with the comparison, Dean’s response is “I might be like you, I might not. But you’re the one tied up.” I love those kinds of character moments. As of s2 I officially have a love-hate relationship with Dean Winchester, I hate it here xDD

But still, on his own, Gordon is an amazing character (it’s one of the most frustrating things about the show, the greatness tainted by the bigotry :))). Charismatic, terrifying, and ofc superbly acted. Also, I love that the fact that he praised John (as opposed to every other hunter having a rockier relationship with him) is clearly supposed to be a red flag LMFAO.

-I enjoy how the seasons delves more deeply into Sam’s ~~dark origins, since it was my fave thing about him way back when. I’m already mourning the (as I suspect) lost of his powers, ngl. There’s a little more attention in how he tends to over-identify with supernatural creatures struggling with their ~dark sides too (bitch me too, the fuck xD), which I LOVE to see (among other reasons because at least in that way we get a little of their POV in the forefront lol). One of my favourites in that sense was the episode centered around the ghost-who-didn’t-know-she-was-ghost, played by Tricia Helfer. I clocked early one what was going on, but it was still very enjoyable, especially with Sam’s empathy with her (contrasted by Dean being a total bitch about it, btw. I can’t believe I still see post about how Dean is all heart/kindness/compassion/whatever the fuck. Dean is all about selective empathy and only when it conveniences him, pls).

I was more divided on the episode with Madison the werewolf, tbh. OTOH it put Sam in a better position, for a change xD. As the one willing to make The Hard Choices by fulfilling his promise to kill her because she was dangerous, even when Dean offered to ~take the burden from him. OTOH I hate that kind of thing lol. YOU GUYS KNOW A HUNTER PRO LIKE BOBBY, I BET HE COULD’VE FIGURED OUT SOMETHING TO CONTAIN HER A FEW NIGHTS A MONTH. Also, my immediate reaction was to compare this to when my man Angel had a crush on a werelady and helped her every month lmfao. But then, very few characters can withstand a comparison with Angel, in any sense :P

I also liked Sam’s subplot with his fellow demon-psychic kids, though I wish it’d lasted longer :/ (also: RME at the queer girl dying almost immediately AND her power being killing people, her girlfriend first of all, with her touch. The black guy was the last one to die at least...?). My fave was Ava, by far. I loved her since her reaction to helping Sam stealing a psychiatrist’s records was yelling “I’M AWESOME!!”. It made it easy to buy that someone that appeared so mundane, with her easy life and her fiance and whatnot, would become so power hungry and go off the rails, IMO.

BTW: RME at Dean being all “oh Sam is going too dark/becoming to cold” when Sam kills Jake. Jake ripped off his spine and killed him first!! It both amuses me and infuriates me all the times Dean tries to push Sam to be more like himself and then freaks out whenever Sam is not all sunshine and rainbows (while still remaining, IMO, far less cold than Dean himself. Besides, it’s not easy to be colder than Dean, lol).

Lastly, a little character detail I loved was when Sam was jealous about Dean being in the federal database but not himself lmfao. 

-I loved the new foreshadowing crumb with Sam finding out Mary knew the demon, too (information he’ll withhold from Dean, which I approve of LOL). I mean, I know exactly what’s up, I’ve watched most of s4 xD (also, what is UP with this family and making deals with demons. Everyone but Sam so far!! And then HE gets dragged for ~getting too close to one smh. Maybe lead by example!! Also also: yes, it was meant to be ambiguous, but I can’t help but notice the only kiss-pact -or further, depending to how close YED was to Lilith’s levels, since to make a deal with her you have to fuck xD- we didn’t see was the one that must’ve happened between John and YED. Cowards!! xD). Still. I’m so curious about her. Her resurrection is one of the main reasons I’m determined to make it to the later seasons, ngl.

-Another thing I LOVED about this season is how they used sibling relationships to parallel/foreshadow stuff about the brothers, the way s1 did often with fathers. I’ve already mentioned Gordon and his sister, but the others are not less brutal imo: Andy having to kill his evil twin, who wanted him all for himself (... Dean is that you xD); the little girl’s ghost who wanted her grand-niece to commit suicide to stay with her, and didn’t give in until her old sister agreed to die in her place. It was chilling. Also, at one point the parallel was between the brothers and a married couple (the ghost-who-didn’t-know-she-was-a-ghost) and asñdlfkajsf. I’m guessing they had fun with the shippers lol.

Speaking of the brothers’ relationship, this season also goes a little further in escalating the violence between them, when Dean punches Sam in the face and he refuses to respond (“you can hit me all you want, it won’t change anything”. Fuck), or when Dean again punches Sam after Sam was possessed by Meg ¬¬

-Going back to my love-hate relationship with Dean, lmfao. My biggest beef remains how much validation his POV gets from the narrative, granted or not; he’s one of the most irritating cases of protagonist-centered morality and I know it’s only going to get worse smh. At least this season it feels a little more balanced than in s1, with episodes like the one where the civilian Sam had tried to keep away dies halfway through the ep because Dean allowed him to get involved, for example. Still, it grates on me xD. The continuing prison rape jokes/demonic possession rape jokes (with Meg and Sam), his general grossness with women and his lack of sympathy for non-humans even when they’re not trying to hurt anyone don’t exactly help. Also, I often see him praised for some of his political views, a lot of which I agree with (his mistrust of cops, saying convicts don’t deserve to die no matter what they do), but when contrasted with his general attitude across the show it’s really grating ngl.

But then he has such AMAZING character details thrown in, that make me appreciate him as a POV character nonetheless, as much as I often want to curb stomp the guy xD. I loved his speech about how there’s no such thing as a dignified death. I love how he refused to come near his mother’s grave, both at the beginning and at the end of the episode (this show is like, the cure to DCCW’s shows false fuzzy sentimentality istg). I love his pop-culture references, like when Sam mentions Dean always thought OJ was the murderer or Dean jokes about freeing Katie Holmes from Scientology’s cult xD (sometimes it really hits you how old this show is lol). I enjoyed his Wishverse episode, and his lines after Sam dies/he sells his soul to save him (“I had one job”, “my life can mean something”) hit HARD.

But most of all? I LOVE how and why he starts losing respect for John. It’s so fucking cold and abrupt and makes so much sense!! Like, yes, part of it is John’s message about killing Sam (... again, father of the year!), but most of all it’s about John making a pact with a demon and dying TO SAVE DEAN (and probably, simply that he died at all. That shit de-mystifies anyone). IT’S SO FUCKING GREAT TO WATCH. “He spent his life chasing that demon. He was supposed to die fighting, not making a deal with the damn thing. That was supposed to be his legacy, not this." Damn, Dean xDD. The *contempt* with which he said that killed me.

I also love his inherently atheist vision of the world (even if yes, it’s extremely funny knowing this show has canon God and angels and shit -no Jesus Christ though, which I find endlessly funny-, or that they actually meet the archangel Gabriel in disguise xD. Either way, the episode with the fake angel and its foreshadowing was hilarious), his anti-destiny stance, and that it’s him and not John who gets to kill YED.

-I liked Ellen and Jo. Not LOVED, but I liked them. I keep fearing that secondary (especially female) characters will feel empty/shallow but the show keeps proving me wrong, even with one-episode wonders, and at first I wasn’t sure about them, but I was sold quickly. Partially because of the actresses, they both had this... humanizing, endearing quality? It worked really well.  I also loved the explicit contrast between John and Ellen’s parenting styles, with Ellen wanting Jo to return to school and be safe from the hunt, and Jo wanting something different. Also, I wouldn’t ship it if you paid me, but LOL at anyone who actually buys Dean sees Jo as a ~little sister just because MEG said that rme.

This show is just REALLY good when it comes to giving depth to a character with only a couple of brush strokes, which makes it all the more frustrating when they abruptly die or disappear to never be seen again/only once more (to abruptly die!) :)))

I was less sold on Ash; he was amusing, but having a Genius Hacker TM helping them out seemed like the beginning of increasingly giving the brothers ways of deux ex machina-ing them out of problems, when one of my favourite things about the show is seeing them creatively find ways out themselves. I like when they’re competent! Like with the multitude of codes they have to improvise plans, like in the episode where with two words through a lawyer they implemented a quick scheme so that Sam would escape from a police precinct. I like that stuff.

-I’m still so bitterly jealous about the dead man’s blood hurting vampires detail. SO BITTERLY JEALOUS. I love a lot of what this show does with its lore but that little bit is the worst offender. I want it so bad xD

[jovialyouthmusic]

Silver Service

So, this is the final chapter. Have we seen the end of Anton? Will Olivia say yes? At last the answers are here!

Word Count 2592

WARNING Death of a major character (but no suprise)

A/N You haven’t seen the last of the characters in this series, but this is the end of the story for now, and many loose ends are tied up and stowed away. The very first chapter of the prequel ‘Protect and Serve’ was posted in April 2019. That means I’ve been writing about Bastien and his LI Sophia for 17 months, and possibly around 200k words. I’ve already written some shorts and short series about the continuing adventures of ‘Basphia’, and I will go on doing so - but this series finishes here. Thanks for reading!

22 This is the End, my friends...

The last day of the Winter Games and Fair dawned in Lythikos. Olivia stirred, feeling Liam’s arm thrown over her hip, and groaned, reaching out to the bedside table for a dry biscuit to quell the nausea she felt. She sat up, munching away and making sure the crumbs stayed on the bedcover and not on the sheets. Liam rolled over onto his back and turned his head to gaze at her. He stayed silent as she finished the biscuit, then sat up beside her

‘Is that herbal remedy not working?’ he asked. She shook her head

‘I had the last of it yesterday, and Lucretia refuses to get me any more. She says a little suffering is good for the soul’ Liam raised his eyebrow and made a wry face.

‘I’m sorry to hear that’ he said. She drew a deep breath and turned toward him, her face grave.

‘I’ve made my decision’ she said, and Liam’s eyes widened. ‘I will be your Queen’ He let his breath go, and picked up her hand to kiss it.

‘You make me so happy’ he said, smiling broadly ‘I know it won’t be easy – we both need to work at this, but I think we’ll be good together. And our child will be cherished’ he gently put his hand on her belly. ‘I’d like to announce it at the closing ceremony’

‘Of course’ she said, placing her hand over his ‘and the pregnancy?’

‘Not just yet’ he replied ‘We can deal with any speculation about that later’

-------

The day progressed well, excitement growing as the finals of each event was held, and the stallholders had one last chance to sell their dwindling wares, happy at their success. At midday, Liam received news that the machines had been turned off at the hospital, witnessed by Lord Rashad. The press asked him for a statement, and he made sure to inform them that the decision had been taken by the Council, with he and Olivia abstaining from the vote.

‘It is with a heavy heart that I hear that Lord Anton has been taken off life support this morning. The Council was assured that his quality of life was very poor. There is a very small chance that he may survive independently, but it was thought it would be a mercy not to let him linger further, with no family or loved ones to care for him. I await to hear of his final passing, and will mourn for a young man who lost his way in fighting for what he believed in. He will be made as comfortable as possible, but that is all that can be done. I thank you for your attention. May he find peace at last.’

Thankfully, Anton’s situation did not mar the tone and excitement of the day, and the finals were followed and enjoyed avidly. The medal ceremonies were watched by a huge crowd who waited for the final speeches. Olivia made another stirring address about harmony between all the duchies which was well received with much cheering and applause, but everyone was eager to hear the King speak. He began by praising both participants and sponsors and congratulating the medal winners. He echoed Olivia’s sentiments of Cordonian unity and at last he came to the moment he had been hoping and planning for the last few days.

‘Citizens of Cordonia, I have an announcement that I hope all of you will rejoice in. It has been but a short time since I learned I was to be your King in my brother’s stead, and even less since I announced that I would take no Queen. I know that many of you feared for the succession and continuation of the Monarchy, and for that I apologise. As you know, I plan to hand over much more power to you, my loyal subjects, and am working on legislation to make this a reality. However, over the last few weeks I have realised that having a Queen by my side would be beneficial to both myself and to the country. To that end, I have asked Lady Olivia to rule with me, and she has consented’ a murmur ran through the crowd, and he paused to let his words sink in. The murmur grew louder, and people started to rise to their feet, at first clapping, then raising their voices, cheering, stamping and shouting congratulations. Liam’s throat tightened, and he held out his hand for Olivia to take and stand close to him. She smiled broadly and waved as the crowd went wild, and any further words from him were impossible. The press surged forward and cameras clicked and flashed and clicked again, capturing the moment as Liam turned to Olivia and kissed her on the lips. She willingly melted into it, drawing him closer as her Lythican spirit kicked in. Finally nothing more could be said, and the two of them retreated to the Lodge with the help of the King’s Guard. Bastien drew them aside into Olivia’s office.

‘My sincere congratulations your majesty, Lady Olivia.’

‘Thankyou Bastien. I think the wedding will have to be held very soon, and I have yet to work out when to announce the pregnancy’ Liam replied. Olivia looked happy but pale.

‘I’m sure you will come up with a good plan, but I am at your service and will offer advice if you need it’  

‘Is there any more news of Severus?’ Olivia asked

‘It appears he is slowly deteriorating. May I ask permission to visit him in hospital?’

‘Of course. I don’t think it’s appropriate for either of us to go, but I’d like to have a reliable witness at his end. Of course, any member of the Guard is sufficient, but you may feel some satisfaction in being there.’

‘Thankyou Sir, I shall indeed. I’ll leave shortly.’ Bastien bowed and left the room to make his way back to the Capitol.

-------

‘Are you sure about this?’ Sophia asked, Bastien at the wheel as they travelled the long road back. She had already been packed ready to leave the next day, and it only took Bastien a moment. They didn’t know how long Bastien would be at the hospital, so he had to be prepared to go wherever the King was.

‘Never more sure of anything, theá mou’ he replied ‘I will get closure, and can report back to the King when he’s finally gone’ He briefly turned his head toward her. ‘You know I will never forgive him for his crimes, most of all for what he put you through’

‘Agapé mou’ Sophia said softly. ‘I won’t come into the room with you, but I’ll be nearby. I can bring you coffee, and we can be together when it’s finally over’

‘Yes’ he replied ‘But if you need to rest, get one of the guards to drive you back to the Palace’

‘Bas’ she said, and her tone made him listen carefully ‘Does this mean you’ll be resigning as Captain?’

‘Formally, yes. I’ll be sworn onto the Council at their next scheduled meeting. That’s not for a week or so, so if you like, we can take a short break’ Eyes on the road, he heard her gasp.

‘Oh Bas, that would be wonderful’ she breathed ‘I’d love to be near the sea’

‘Greece is still warm’ he said ‘It’s not too far, so if I’m needed…’

‘You won’t be’ she said firmly ‘If I have to throw your phone into the sea, we’re going to have time completely to ourselves.’ He chuckled softly.

‘My foster parents have a villa on the coast’ he replied ‘I’m sure they’d love to meet you – they don’t travel far now my foster mother’s in a wheelchair, but she could manage that’

‘I’d really like that. Mum and Dad have been hinting that they could visit us in December, so that would fit in nicely’

‘You don’t want to visit them instead?’ he asked

‘I’d rather go in Spring, make sure we have plenty of time. Now would be too rushed. I have so many places I want to show you’

‘And I you’ he smiled. ‘The sea will still be warm, so we can go swimming’ They reached the outskirts of the city, and Bastien set his face into his grim work expression. ‘We’re nearly there. Be strong, my goddess’

-------

Six hours later Bastien rose to stretch his stiff limbs, the steady bleep of the heart monitor slow and monotonous. There was no movement  apart from the shallow erratic rise and fall of Anton’s chest. He was still attached to drips for hydration and pain relief, and Bastien fought the impulse to tear out the medication tubes. He found himself hoping that even though he was shielded from physical pain, some part of his mind and spirit suffered torment. He remembered the words of the King, diplomatically expressing sorrow and regret. He knew he could never feel those things for the prone figure, and could manage only neutral words or silence when asked his opinion. The Captain of the Guard would never voice his thoughts to another living creature. He intended his role to end the second Anton’s last breath faded, so he sat again and waited, silent and watchful.

He jerked awake, his head falling forward as the muscles in his neck went slack. He blinked and registered the change in the heart monitor. It was definitely slower, and Anton’s closed eyes had somehow opened, staring blankly at the ceiling. Bastien sat up straight and called a nurse in to sit vigil with him. There was a CCTV camera in the room recording all that happened, but for this vital moment he needed another human to witness that he did not approach the bed or rise from his chair two feet away save to leave the room for a bathroom break or walk the length of the room to restore his circulation.

The nurse leaned over the bed and closed his eyes again, but as she stepped away, horribly they slowly opened again, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. She stared at him in disbelief.

‘I’ve never seen that happen before’ she said ‘But then they say it’s a Lythican poison, so goodness knows…’ her voice trailed away.

‘Indeed’ Bastien said ‘The Council thought it merciful to let him slip away’ The nurse jumped as Anton’s body suddenly jerked, and the heart monitor shrieked its alarm as it lost signal. His back arched off the bed and she ran over to hold him down, pulling the alarm cord, and staff rushed in to help her. Bastien stood back, determined to have no part in the unfolding drama. Just as suddenly as he had convulsed, Anton’s body went limp, and the beep of the flatlining heart monitor echoed around the room, the shocked medical staff stepping away. At last Anton’s body lay lifeless on the bed and Bastien felt a ton weight lift from his shoulders. Still he sat for another half hour before he rose and left, leaving the body of Anton Severus alone and unmourned.

------

The news reached Lythikos, where Olivia and Liam sat waiting to hear. Olivia broke into tears, weeping uncontrollably while Liam held her.

‘He’s really gone’ she said ‘At last that monster is dead. He can’t hurt us any more’

‘We can go forward now’ Liam said gently ‘This is a new era for Cordonia – one of peace and diplomacy, with our two families united.’ He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. ‘You’re the strongest person I know, Livvy – but you can let your guard down with me. Any burden you bear, I bear it with you. We stand together, whatever life brings us’ Olivia smiled through her tears. Truly Liam was the only one she could be herself with, and although she hadn’t declared her love for him, she felt that might come with time. He had called her loyal, and that was a quality they shared. He had always stood up for her when they were children, and they may have lost touch for a while as teenagers, but he was coming full circle, and she hoped that would continue into the future.

‘Liam, you don’t have to demonstrate your statesmanship with me’ she said ‘You can just be Liam, and I can be Olivia. It’s that simple’ Liam relaxed suddenly, letting his forehead rest against hers.

‘You’re right, Livvy’ he replied ‘That’s what being King is like. I have to think about everything I say before I utter a word’ She laughed

‘Whereas I say what I think. Perhaps you should teach me about diplomacy. I’ll have to start by keeping my mouth shut.’

‘Passion has just as much a place as restraint’ Liam smiled ‘you just need to channel it’

‘It comes naturally to you’ she sighed ‘I’ll have to work hard at it’

‘I’m sure you’ll rise to the challenge. After all, Nevrakis always succeed at whatever they do’ Olivia made a sour face.

‘Then let’s hope Lucretia decides that you making me Queen is enough for her not to plot against you’

‘I told you, she won’t be the first or the last’ he assured her ‘Bastien may be retiring, but Lewis is a superb replacement and I’m sure we’ll rule together for a long time. I’m handing over more responsibility to the Council, so hopefully we’ll have more time to ourselves than my father ever had.’

‘You’re such an optimist’ Olivia smiled ‘Perhaps you can teach me that too’

--------

Anton was buried next to his father, last of his line and mourned only for show by Liam, Rashad (as a representative of the Council) and Lewis. Hints of a large power base held by the Sons of the Earth had dissolved, as had that organisation, disappearing like a puff of smoke. Claudius and the other men arrested at Valtoria awaited trial although most of them co-operated once they knew Anton was dead.

The Charity tour came to an end, and Liam and Olivia went back to the Palace, now clear after extensive security sweeps. The Royal Wedding and Olivia’s coronation was planned in one ceremony,  and it was decided that the pregnancy would be announced soon after. Olivia visited Lucretia and the old woman grudgingly congratulated her niece on her elevation to Royalty, but Olivia did not trust her to be out where she could harm Liam. She was charged with treason before it was decided that she was to be kept in a maximum security prison with strictly limited visitors awaiting trial.

Bastien did at last resign his position and take up his place on the new Cordonian Council of Citizens, but not before taking Sophia on a well earned break to meet his foster parents. Drake and Riley went on a trip to New York and Texas after the Royal Wedding, but decided to return to Cordonia while they worked out where their relationship was taking them.

By the time Olivia’s pregnancy was announced, the country had taken her to their heart, and few people criticised her for jumping the gun. The fact that there would be a new heir filled the gossip magazines, and the Royal Couple were in demand on front pages everywhere – not just in Cordonia, but Europe and further afield. It really was a new dawn for the country, and although all was not plain sailing, King Liam’s reign was set to be peaceful and prosperous.

THE END (for now)

@sirbeepsalot @stopforamoment @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd​ @texaskitten30​ @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @rainbowsinthestorm @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01  @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @ravenpuff02 @kingliam2019​

[sakurology]

🦂 miss daisy ٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶

You don’t need anything in life bc ur sexy I would sell my soul for a crumb of your attention please let me share a closet with you also ur sexy

(But also you’re just a cancer in a leather jacket it’s ok to enjoy hugs baby let it out)

send me a sign/placement for my shitty astro girl opinion

[triunfo-di-sablika]

BURN THE GOLDEN COACH, BURN THE DUTCH KING, BURN DUTCH COLONIAL RACISM IN THE CARIBBEAN

An interview with Fridi Clemencia, who sells newspapers in the morning at the Zegu roundabout and cleans rich dutch white people houses the rest of the day in Curaçao:

TdS: What is your view on the recent opening of the golden coach art exhibition at the Amsterdam museum in the netherlands? Have you heard about it?

FC: Yeah while working for one of these rich makambas at Jan Sofat they was watching it on the internets and harassingly questioned me why I was totally against this symbol of dutch hyper plunder. A carriage made of stolen gold gifted to a dutch queen who stole the wealth of all these Caribbean islands the dutch colonized and enslaved. It was Wilhelmina the one still standing in front of our parliament building in Punda who was forced by the United States to sprinkle some of that political decolonization on us. She wasn’t really feeling it, she rather had us in their colonial cages for as long as possible.

TdS: And now her great-grandson Willem Alexander inaugurated the art exhibition and the museum is organizing a so-called public debate to decide what must happen with the golden coach.

FC: That is just a façade. Like Club Facade at Saliña, you remember those days? Like seriously people have to do their history and understand who we are dealing with. Apeldoorn 2009 showed us a Beatrix the head monarch in charge celebrating Queens day and she had survived an assassination car attack. Black ancestral Caribbean musical rhythms expressed through dancing bodies saved a ‘queen’ and her ‘royal’ family from dying. One of the dancers that danced for the ‘queen’ was Wilfrido Plantijn an elder from Curaçao he died on the spot and several other dancers of Ekspreshon Kultural were severly hurt too. But the queen nor her son the predecessor unlawful heir to the throne of royal plunder paid the expenses for hospital costs of the injured dancers. They refused to pay insurance money, they refused to pay for the funeral of mister Plantijn, tickets for the family for the burial of their loved one in Curaçao. Big disgrace for a family of ‘royalty’ Oranje van Nassau the most greedy bloodsuckers of this diabolical kingdom refused to pay the family and friends of a Black Caribbean man that died and prevented basically saved their ‘royal’ ass from dying. These type of colonial kaka we dealing with. My grandma used to tell us all that “the devil is dutch, these white ‘royalties’ became rich because of Black genocide.” She never lied you know.

TdS: Weird thing is that everybody accepted it nobody made a big fuzz about it, it never got mainstream media attention.

FC: For the public the dutch monarchy has to show the fairytale face to lull the masses to sleep but that other face, the real one is a face of falseness, viciousness. That behavior, these characteristics of dutch coloniality is what the dutch king willem alexander is maintaining as a tradition but he also knows that honoring his tradition he has to act as if he is a progressive white ‘royalty’ and represents for all people in the ‘kingdom’. One of the deceptions styles he uses is art and via Amsterdam museum they blind the people by centralizing the dutch racism controversy evoked by the golden coach and act as if he is a Black Lives Matter ally. By the way there were no protests, not a whistle, no silent acts of disapproval of the exhibition or the ‘king’. Is that maybe how the crumbs of dutch capitalism crumble in the netherlands? Really? No statements made, no think pieces, no social media monologues, no symposium, conference of the Black vanguard. Such a big silence for something worthy of critique and deconstruction. I

TdS: True indeed it was a golden opportunity to chant down babylon in the media or just live in their faces. It seems the consistency in their words and deeds are mismatching at times. The panel painted with half naked Black and Brown people kneeling down, being submissive to this white woman is in a museum, everybody happy for the moment.

FC: The kitoki of gold was actually a trojan horse to trick the dutch white impoverished in the beginning of the 1900s to have celestial faith in the dutch ‘royal’ family and blindly support them as saviors of the nation. And in 2021 these white people still kept ignorant and believe they need a king, the mental programming is so deep even makambas in Curaçao see them as holy figures. And kings day is one hot colonial mess too and on top of it indoctrinating these little kids in schools to believe he a saint or whatever, it’s makamba madness.

TdS: Amsterdam museum seems pretty proud

FC: Amsterdam museum can put some art in their space that softly critiques the legacy of dutch slavery in the Caribbean Africa South East India but that’s really it. The institution of a museum like this dutch one is just like its cousin the Rijksmuseum upholding veneration of dutch royalty and that is never not to be discussed after all he the ‘king’ gave permission and lend the golden kitoki and made the whole show of whiteness and inclusiveness fallacy possible. Through art the museum and the ‘king’ and his political pawns in government, parliament, local administrations and corporate world are policing how Black people should feel about dutch white hyper plunder. The bodies of our ancestors painted on that golden piece of shit are still theirs in their minds. Dutch whiteness conditions them to believe they have ownership over Caribbean Black lives. And for the non-believers they should check how the dutch government is forcing and extorting neoliberal reform in exchange of illegal covid-19 loans to impoverish the islands of Aruba, St. Martin and Curaçao even more than they already did. These type of things are not part of the conversation.

TdS: That is colonial censorship which is needed to keep these islands in the realm of enslaveability. The same reason why Bonaire, Saba, Statia to this day are not getting the same social benefits and all the other state care arrangements to live a life as the dutch whites do in the Netherlands. The so-called Black/Caribbean decolonial/decolonizing/anti-colonial people let the dutch white savagery happen because maybe they think shutting it down would mean loss of income/speaking gigs/media performances/research work?

FC: The foundation of the dutch antiblack fuckery is that white people think they are the decision makers of what happens to these racist symbols that impact the lives of Black people in the netherlands and the Caribbean. Capitalism fucks up everybody head, even the Caribbean artist are all from the netherlands. Nobody really living on these islands or Suriname have been invited to think along or create an art piece. Nobody even demanded that artists and communities living in the Caribbean should also have a voice in this whole exhibition and pseudo debate. Its art apartheid pretending to be a decolonizing project. The ‘king, the government and Holland BV has blood on their hands though.

TdS: There is a big disconnect in communication with the Caribbean and both the diaspora and the makambas don’t seem to realize how the social deadening is speeding up around here.

FC: For real for real, people acting as if the islands aint going through colonial genocide and even Suriname is struggling real hard right now and in the netherlands, white people, the diaspora and Black people in general normalize that Suriname is independent and that every hardship they go through is their own fault since 1975 and not the fault of Holland BV. And these colonial art institutions with these exhibitions constructed to keep white hyper plunder systems in power are not intended to talk about that, they are tools to keep dutch capitalism plundering so their museums can profit off their savagery. It’s a art laundromat of royalty and institutionalized racism in the netherlands and the Caribbean. 90 to 95% of these exhibitions you will see dutch white people profit from it. It’s a colonial project where the souls of Black and Brown people get extracted and dutch companies get most of the monies.

TdS; This whole decolonize this and that movement leaves a fraudulent taste doesn’t it?

FC: Listen if the Caribbean really was connected to their own people in the Caribbean they would stand up for their people and demand spaces and structural funds for art if we keep it restricted to art for the moment. Right now as we speak Museo Tula in Bandabou Kenepa has been shut down for months by neoliberal policies from the last neocolonial PAR MAN government. They even tried to sell the art and artifacts of the museum to get money. These devils be wicked, i tell you. We talking about the blackest revolutionary landscape where freedom fighters shed blood for us in 1795. This museum had to feel the financial barbarities of dutch colonialism 2021 which by international law, treaties, kingdom law is a clear violation of Black Caribbean decolonization. Where the ‘Tula Taught Me’ t-shirt army at yo? On some real shit, have you heard the white art institutions or Black curators in the netherlands expressing any outrage, the white academics of colonial history, the constitutional law experts or just anyone that strutted down the colonized catwalk of decolonization or decoloniality?

TdS: The disrespectfulness has never stopped to amaze people down here. And this is a problem that could be easily fixed but people need to see the value of things and ancestors that have shaped our current lived reality. Maybe blood needs to flow before people in the netherlands start their journey to a new awakening.

FC: It’s similar to how the art community moves in the Caribbean. You depend on the crumbs of the ruling elite to live, that is if you desire recognition and some funds. I know people that do art, my sister make amazing shit but just like me she cleaning schools with broken ceilings and roofs that lack laptops and teachers equipped to educate Black emancipatory youth. How or why is art not being made to critique the fuckupness of the Caribbean not being able to eat from their artworks especially if its anticolonial decolonial and anti ruling elite on the islands? These are all human rights issues, this why Barryl Biekman one of the peoples we should bigup and give thanks to for fighting against the golden carriage and blackface 10 years ago. She was battling dutch white media on her own and telling the makambas that these symbols and systems of dutch antiblack racism are a crime against humanity.

TdS: 10 years it took the dutch to put the golden kitoki in the museum. That’s so backwards but typifies the super slow dutch savage capitalism influenced tempo of dismantling colonial racism in the netherlands.

FC: It may take a decade or more to defund the dutch monarchy take its stolen riches back and abolish that whole institution. The dishonesty and hypocrisy to invite a king to their exhibition but to only slightly critique, fake debating the golden vehicle of ceremonial modelling but refusing to scrutinize the plunder whiteness of the dutch monarchy and the dutch government. They could never take a stance against capitalism. That’s basically what’s going on. These people and institutions have generational blockages to understand and make the connection that where art and coloniality arises in spaces that the Caribbean has to be included and demanded to take a stance against the violence of racist genocidal policies that destroy the lives of the people on the islands. Once these colonial clouds capitalistic ignorance fades away they might start shifting attention to destroy the monarchy, to wreck wicked whiteness in the corporate world and government and in their own spheres of art and academia, intellectuality.

TdS: This national debate is a joke thing right?

FC: Both Rijksmuseum and Amsterdam Museum are being run like a business. They may have banned the word ‘golden age’ but the glorious memory of that era of coloniality is still vibrant in their bones and behavior. It’s still white people leading, funding these institutions. Their target audience is white people, the exhibition is made with that in mind. Even though some Black people were involved, they also know that Blackness could never reign supreme without consequences. They have to adjust to make white people not cry out their eyes. Because they are the majority that bring the coins and can keep their careers alive in the world of art. They don’t give a shit that right now the dutch are colonizing the islands to accelerated social death. That realization is not going to be made through nice non-threatening art or a dialogue while sipping a starbucks frappuccino. They have used the traumas and tribulations of us in the Caribbean so many times and most of these moments they always excluded us and silenced our sufferation. We were never part of their projects that use the lives of our ancestors to get that bag of money, fame, power whatever. It always comes back in a different shape and form but the fuckery stays the same.

TdS: So what besides the coloniality of dutch art curating, monarchy, capitalism, colonial genocide in the Caribbean is missing what needs to discussed and turned into action?

FC: reparations is deliberately structurally left out of the chatter even the thousands of rastas in the netherlands and on the islands quiet as fuck together with these movements, the voices and faces of Black whateverness. Amsterdam as a city and their council and movements led by Black people deepened the talks about apology. The council negotiated an apology for slavery but unsurprisingly without reparations also again without linking up with the communities living in the netherlands and the Caribbean. Reparative repercussions are very real, that’s Black economic and financial violence for dutch white people but to us it’s just a ancestral linkup to rectify the past and stop the ongoing genocide and plunder by dutch whiteness in the Caribbean and make sure it never happens again. No national security risk assessment, half ass decolonization elitist intellectual foolery or debates in art institutions cant escape their fate for all the savage white fuckery they have done and still are doing to us to this day in Statia in St.Martin in Curaçao in Aruba in Bonaire in Saba and in Suriname. Don’t ever think Maxima singing a few words from Marley's Redemption Song at Keti Koti will change our avenging hearts. Niki pabo makamba stinki, niki.

[therebelwrites]

Rome is Falling and Fashion Says So

A funny thing happened when I lived in what are considered “developing” countries.

Whenever I inquired about directions to the nearest thrift stores, the natives, more often than not, regarded me in horror: Why on Earth would someone choose to buy USED items unless absolutely forced to??

(Well, aside from my affinity for items with personality, what many of those people refused to believe was that I had moved the their country sans the truckloads of money that they believed that every American should be handed at birth. Sigh. The media is a very powerful--and LYIN ASS--tool!)

Which called my attention to the fact that most so-called “developing” nations, being not far removed from days of abject poverty, are either moving toward or currently experiencing their Golden Ages.

The ways and days of the United States as we know it, however, are numbered.

Look at fashion and all will be revealed...

People are PAYING MONEY TO BUY CLOTHES WITH HOLES ALREADY IN THEM! (Naw, I aint judging--I’ve earned all the holes in my clothes, thankyouverymuch. But why would I buy holey clothes when I can just as easily make my OWN holes?? This makes no sense to the elders -- who, being from modest upbringings, were lucky to have clothes that lacked holes -- and I gotta ride with em on this one!)

People pay hundreds of dollars for “distressed” fabrics. There are literally stores that buy old jeans from their customers, destroy them, then sell them back to their customers at a higher price!?

People are paying hundreds of dollars for clothes that appear to be DIRTY.

And, worst of all, there exists a fashion style called the “homeless look.”

You see, these are all the indisputable marks of the ferocious BITE of unchecked material EXCESS within a society.

The United States has accumulated so much wealth that its citizens can afford to buy sub-par clothing and WILL EVEN PAY TO LOOK POOR.

Lemme repeat: U.S. society as a whole has amassed so much money that its wealthy residents have become bored with the signs of extravagance, opting instead to dress as though they have only dirty rags to wear.

Do y’all not see the absurdity of this?? Especially given that those who are paying $300 for ripped t-shirts aren’t saying, “Since I’m throwing money away anyway, I want to give away or donate some of my excessive wealth to the less fortunate this week, so that I can actually EXPERIENCE the low socio-economic “lifestyle” that I’m using my wardrobe to mimic.”

[”God’s Plan” don’t count. LMAO. Plus you already know I got my OWN theories about that anyway...]

Nah. These jokers wanna LOOK -- nay, dabble in -- poor while still BEING and FEELING rich. Da fuk is you sayin??

But why stop at fashion??

We live in a country where food and water quality are not improved by the “haves” for the benefit of ALL, but the “haves” simply BUY better quality sustenance for their own individual benefit. Eating healthy food and receiving adequate healthcare are considered privileges. No money, no apple for you, Timmy! (We ALL live on Earth, yet we have “environmental activists”?? Huh?)

Ditto for education. “Hmm...I can either use my massive wealth to fund the education of my ONE child for twenty-odd years, OR I can use my excessive financial and political resources to build a system that benefits ALL children, indefinitely...And the winner is: Harvard for $100,000!!”

SMH.

We treat those who handle our children and grandparents and medications and minds and food with complete disdain, all the while, providing pensions to old white men with white hair and red souls who sit in offices and push white papers, pencils around imaginary ledgers all day, creating, earning and losing money that does not really exist.

You see, the funny thing about crumbs is that they can be saved, stored and hoarded for later use; complied into big piles of empire after bigger ones have fallen, crumbled apart...

[attackofthezee]

Ya’ll, I made this pie today and it was bomb af. I didn’t use a recipe and I didn’t measure shit, but I can kinda sorta tell you how I made it and that’s what I’m gonna do. 

First I took 3/4 of a stick of butter (I’ve read that people outside the USA don’t have sticks of butter????? so that’s 3/4 of a 1/2 cup of butter) and I literally just threw that in my glass pan and tossed it in the microwave for 30 seconds. After the 30 seconds I took a fork and used that to move it around in the pan, popped it back in the microwave for 20 more seconds then stirred it until the chunks of unmelted butter melted into the rest. 

Then I dumped graham cracker crumbs into all that delicious melted butter. I couldn’t tell you how much I used for the life of me, but it was enough until when I mixed it it was moist, but not wet and when I pinched it between my fingers it stuck together like damp sand. I pressed it all down into a crust using the bottom of a heavy glass and then I popped that motherfucker in the freezer to firm up and moved on. 

Next I took about 1/4 cup heavy whipping cream and microwaved that for about 30 seconds, until it was hot but not boiling. I poured that over what is an unknown about of chocolate, but that I’d say was probably about 3/4 cup of semi sweet chocolate chips.  I then set a plate over top of the bowl to trap the heat in and left that to do it’s thing while I moved the fuck on. 

While my chocolate chips were doing their sweet, sweet thing I took an 8 oz block of cream cheese and popped it in the microwave for like twenty seconds to get it to soften up just a bit. (You should let it sit out on the counter until it softens, but I didn’t feel like any sort of waiting tbh.) So I took the cream cheese and threw it, along with an 8 oz container of Cool Whip into the bowl of my stand mixer fitted with the whisk attachment. (You could use an electric hand mixer, but my kitchen aid is my child and in the year I’ve had it I’ve decided I would gladly sell my soul for it if I had to.) 

To that I added a couple tablespoons of heavy whipping cream, and an unknown quantity of cocoa powder. I used a mix of Hershey’s Special Dark and just straight up, normal Nestle Toll House Baking Cocoa. I literally could not tell you how much I used of each, but together it probably equaled about 1 cup. 

Then I turned my mixer onto medium and let that shit blend until the cocoa powder was mixed in and there were no more lumps of cream cheese. I then tasted it and realized shit, I probably should add some sugar shouldn’t I? because again, there was no recipe for this shit and I was making it up and I don’t always think of things the first go round. So I dumped about 1 cup of powdered sugar in there added a little more heavy cream and gave it another whirl. 

At this point I left my mixer going, grabbed the bowl of chocolate and heavy cream that I’d left sitting earlier and mixed it all together with a whisk until the chocolate and cream were blended and smooth and totally fuckin delicious. I then left it to sit again and turned my attention back to my stand mixer again. 

I turned the mixer off, scraped the bowl and tasted what I had so far before adding a little more cocoa powder and powdered sugar, and this time a little bit of milk to loosen it up a little (next time I probably won’t add milk, because I think it’d be better just slightly firmer). I mixed it, tried it again, added a little more cocoa powder, mixed it again, and tried it again until it tasted how I wanted it to. Finally, once it tasted bomb af I scraped down the bowl again, turned my stand mixer onto medium-high and left it to whip a bit more air into it. 

While that was mixing I grabbed my pie pan out of freezer and took my ganache (the heavy cream and chocolate chip mixture) and dumped that all into the pan. Working quickly because it will set, I used the back of a spoon to spread the ganache around until I had a nice even layer. Once that was done I turned off my stand mixer, scraped my bowl ONCE AGAIN (there’s a lot of bowl scraping involved in this whole thing) and then dumped it all into the pie pan and smoothed it out. 

THEN, and here’s where it goes from delicious to fucking delicious I took this Smucker’s Salted Caramel sauce my Mom bought the other day and drizzled that all over the pie. Then I took it to an even higher level and shoved another container of cool whip into a piping bag with a large star tip and piped that on. AND THEN I DRIZZLED MORE CARAMEL OVER THE COOL WHIP. 

Then to make it even better, cause chocolate and caramel isn’t already enough I took some of these heath bar baking bits I had and sprinkled those fuckers all over. Finally I shoved it in the freezer for like an hour and a half because I had no patience to let that shit set in the fridge for hours on end. After the hour and a half I cut it, fed my family the fruits of my wonderful labor and basked in the pride of a delicious fucking dessert. One day maybe I’ll even make it and keep track of how much I use so I can give people an actual recipe, who knows? 

[arplis]

Arplis - News: 50 of the Best Kindle Unlimited Books You Can Read in 2020

Are you ready for the best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020? Last year I gave you the worlds best advice when offering up 50 of the best Kindle Unlimited books to read in 2019. This year Im going to totally blow your mind by offering up another 50 of the best Kindle Unlimited Books for you to check out in the ding-dong new year.

If you werent privy to last years post and you dont want to waste time reading about books that are so last-decade, you can check this out to find out how Kindle Unlimited works. You can finally get the facts about Prime Reading vs Kindle Unlimited. Hell, Ill even pop in a handy-dandy guide to the difference between Kindle Unlimited and Audible.

If youre still not 100% pumped for Kindle Unlimited then why dont you check out this free 30-day trial and find out for your dang selfand this list of the best Kindle Unlimited books for 2020 will help get you started.

Descriptions have been pulled from Amazon.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Romance

Love Unsolicited by Alexandra Warren

Everything in this world is for sale to the people who can afford it Joella Mason knows the difference between what she needs and what she wants. But when the line between the two becomes especially thin, she finds herself on a quest for something missing, not expecting that to come in the package of a sexy stranger with an even sexier proposition. They share a night. Desires are fulfilled. But at what price?

A Taste of Her Own Medicine by Tasha L. Harrison

Sonja Watts needs to re-enter the workforce after divorcing her husband of thirteen years. Taking the advice of her sister Birdie and her best friend Estelle, she signs up for a six-week course for entrepreneurs; hoping that she will learn everything she needs to know to build a business to support herself and her kids. On the first night of class, Sonja is able to ignore the fact that most of the students were younger than her by ten years or more. It was what she expected. But when the instructor walks in, she debates packing up her new twelve hundred dollar laptop and walking out. Sonja couldnt remember the last time she looked at a man with little more interest than she give a sturdy dining room table. She was just disinterested. But wow, did Atlas James grab her interest.

Christmas in the City by Bria Felicien

Zoe is trying to survive the holiday season without succumbing to winter gloom. By chance, she meets DeAndre, who approaches her with an offer she cant refuse.

Falling for a Knight by T Russ

While vacationing in Trinidad, world-renowned photographer Roman Knight unexpectedly acquires a new muse, Cynthia Tremaine. Their chemistry is off the charts and they cant resist giving into a night of passion together. Neither of them expected to see each other again after they parted waysbut fate seemed to have other plans.

With Your Permission by Stephanie Nicole Norris

As the CEO of Building Bridges LLC, Bri is driven by determination for success. However, while planning the wedding of one of Chicagos hottest couples, Bris focus is shifted when the strum of a nocturnal voice captures her attention. Being an empath has empowered her sense of compassion for others, so shes not only drawn to him because of his broken heart but also from a fierce attraction that sparks her interest and tap dances on a groove on her heart. Getting involved with someone whos not open to love may prove to be the most difficult road Bri has ever journeyed, but shes unable to stop herself from falling into an irresistible tango of love.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Cookbooks

Instant Pot Cookbook @2020: 600 Foolproof Recipes For Beginners and Advanced Users by Matilda Armstrong

Do you want quick & easy solutions in the kitchen mastering your Instant Pot? Are you willing to have more free time while cooking delicious meals? Well, if the answer is yes, then thats why Im here for. To help you with achieving this, I focused on creating the one and only Instant Pot cookbook, for excellent results, with easy and effortless to cook recipes for anyone.

Meal Prep for Two: 8 Weekly Plans & 75 Recipes to Get Healthier Together by Casey Seiden

Convenience doesnt have to come with a cost to your wallet, health, or sanity! Now you can prepare delicious, nourishing dishes for two ahead of timeand savor them throughout the week, stress-free. Whether youre prepping food with a partner, family member, or roommate, Meal Prep for Two will help you build simple and balanced meals together.

#ISeafoodDifferently: 11 Of My Most Popular Recipes and The Stories Behind Them by Chef Kendric Smith

This recipe book is the first of many to come. Its my pleasure to share my cooking secrets with you!!

Bread Baking for Beginners: The Essential Guide to Baking Kneaded Breads, No-Knead Breads, and Enriched Breads by Bonnie Ohara

Baking a perfect loaf of bread is part science and part magic. Created from four simple ingredients of flour, yeast, water, and salt, breadmaking is one of the most difficult (and delicious) baking endeavors. Bread Baking for Beginners is a rare bread cookbook for true beginners to keep their bread baking on the rise.

The Baking Bible by Rose Levy Beranbaum

The latest and most comprehensive baking book yet from best-selling author and diva of desserts Rose Levy Beranbaum and winner of the 2015 IACP Cookbook Award for Baking. Legendary baker Rose Levy Beranbaum is back with her most extensive bible yet. With all-new recipes for the best cakes, pies, tarts, cookies, candies, pastries, breads, and more, this magnum opus draws from Roses passion and expertise in every category of baking. As is to be expected from the woman whos been called the most meticulous cook who ever lived, each sumptuous recipe is truly foolproofwith detail-oriented instructions that eliminate guesswork, plan-aheads, ingenious tips, and highlights for success. From simple everyday crowd-pleasers (Coffee Crumb Cake Muffins, Gingersnaps, Gooseberry Crisp) to show-stopping stunners (Chocolate Hazelnut Mousse Tart, Mango Bango Cheesecake, White Christmas Peppermint Cake) to bakery-style pastries developed for the home kitchen (the famous French Kouign Amann), every recipe proves that delicious perfection is within reach for any baker.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: YA

True to Me by Kay Bratt

Quinn Maguire has a stable life, a fianc, and what she thinks is a clear vision for her future. All of that comes undone by her mothers deathbed confessionthe absentee father Quinn spent thirty years resenting is not her real father at all. With that one revealing whisper, Quinn embarks on a journey to Maui, her mothers childhood home, a storied paradise that holds the truth about her mothers past and all its secrets Quinn is determined to uncover.

Regretting You by Colleen Hoover

Morgan Grant and her sixteen-year-old daughter, Clara, would like nothing more than to be nothing alike. Morgan is determined to prevent her daughter from making the same mistakes she did. By getting pregnant and married way too young, Morgan put her own dreams on hold. Clara doesnt want to follow in her mothers footsteps. Her predictable mother doesnt have a spontaneous bone in her body. With warring personalities and conflicting goals, Morgan and Clara find it increasingly difficult to coexist. The only person who can bring peace to the household is ChrisMorgans husband, Claras father, and the family anchor. But that peace is shattered when Chris is involved in a tragic and questionable accident. The heartbreaking and long-lasting consequences will reach far beyond just Morgan and Clara.

The Will and the Wilds by Charlie N. Holmberg

Enna knows to fear the mystings that roam the wildwood near her home. When one tries to kill her to obtain an enchanted stone, Enna takes a huge risk: fighting back with a mysting of her own. Maekalluss help isnt free. His price? A kiss. One with the power to steal her soul. But their deal leaves Maekallus bound to the mortal realm, which begins eating him alive. Only Ennas kiss, given willingly, can save him from immediate destruction. Its a temporary salvation for Maekallus and a lingering doom for Enna. Part of her soul now burns bright inside Maekallus, making him feel for the first time.

Not My Type of Stranger by Prachi Gupta

Lakshya is living the playboy life and he LOVES it. He doesnt believe in love and has never failed to get a girl in his lifeuntil he meets Ridhima, the new girl next door. He prefers easy hook-ups, and shes definitely not his type. Shes totally uninterested in him and he cant stand it. Hell stop at nothing to win her. But Ridhima has a secret of her own which will make it remarkably more difficult for him to get close to her. What happens when Lakshya gets to know about the secret? Will they end up falling for one another? or Will she be the one to break his heart? A story about a bad boy falling for the good girl and not just any good girl, a hot sexy good girl with a big secret.

Girl at Heart by Kelly Oram

As the daughter of a successful Major League pitcher, Charlie Hastings has baseball in her blood. Unfortunately, being the only girl on her high school baseball team, Charlie has always been just one of the guys. When her best friend, and secret love of her life, asks another girl to the prom, Charlie is devastated. Shes tired of being overlooked by boys because shes not like other girls. Suffering a massive identity crisis, she decides to hang up her cleats and finally learn how to be a girl. But with only two weeks until the state championships, the Roosevelt High Ravens cant afford to lose their star catcher. Team captain Jace King makes her a deal: Dont quit the team, and hell help her become the girl shes so desperate to be. After all, hes got four sisters, one of whom happens to be a cheerleader. He knows a thing or two about girls. (And if he can win her heart in the process, all the better.)

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Science Fiction/Fantasy

The Handmaids Tale by Margaret Atwood

The Handmaids Tale is a novel of such power that the reader will be unable to forget its images and its forecast. Set in the near future, it describes life in what was once the United States and is now called the Republic of Gilead, a monotheocracy that has reacted to social unrest and a sharply declining birthrate by reverting to, and going beyond, the repressive intolerance of the original Puritans. The regime takes the Book of Genesis absolutely at its word, with bizarre consequences for the women and men in its population.

1984 by George Orwell

In 1984, London is a grim city in the totalitarian state of Oceania where Big Brother is always watching you and the Thought Police can practically read your mind. Winston Smith is a man in grave danger for the simple reason that his memory still functions. Drawn into a forbidden love affair, Winston finds the courage to join a secret revolutionary organization called The Brotherhood, dedicated to the destruction of the Party. Together with his beloved Julia, he hazards his life in a deadly match against the powers that be.

The Tombs of Atuan by Ursula K. Le Guin

When young Tenar is chosen as high priestess to the ancient and nameless Powers of the Earth, everything is taken away home, family, possessions, even her name. For she is now Arha, the Eaten One, guardian of the ominous Tombs of Atuan. While she is learning her way through the dark labyrinth, a young wizard, Ged, comes to steal the Tombs greatest hidden treasure, the Ring of Erreth-Akbe. But Ged also brings with him the light of magic, and together, he and Tenar escape from the darkness that has become her domain.

The Vine Witch by Luanne G. Smith

For centuries, the vineyards at Chteau Renard have depended on the talent of their vine witches, whose spells help create the world-renowned wine of the Chanceaux Valley. Then the skill of divining harvests fell into ruin when sorcire Elena Boureanu was blindsided by a curse. Now, after breaking the spell that confined her to the shallows of a marshland and weakened her magic, Elena is struggling to return to her former life. And the vineyard she was destined to inherit is now in the possession of a handsome stranger.

Wastelands: The New Apocalypse edited by John Joseph Adams featuring Carmen Maria Machado, Ken Liu & many more

In WASTELANDS: THE NEW APOCALYPSE, veteran anthology editor John Joseph Adams is once again our guide through the wastelands using his genre and editorial expertise to curate his finest collection of post-apocalyptic short fiction yet. Whether the end comes via nuclear war, pandemic, climate change, or cosmological disaster, these stories explore the extraordinary trials and tribulations of those who survive. Featuring never-before-published tales by: Veronica Roth, Hugh Howey, Jonathan Maberry, Seanan McGuire, Tananarive Due, Richard Kadrey, Scott Sigler, Elizabeth Bear, Tobias S. Buckell, Meg Elison, Greg van Eekhout, Wendy N. Wagner, Jeremiah Tolbert, and Violet Allenplus, recent reprints by: Carmen Maria Machado, Carrie Vaughn, Ken Liu, Paolo Bacigalupi, Kami Garcia, Charlie Jane Anders, Catherynne M. Valente, Jack Skillingstead, Sofia Samatar, Maureen F. McHugh, Nisi Shawl, Adam-Troy Castro, Dale Bailey, Susan Jane Bigelow, Corinne Duyvis, Shaenon K. Garrity, Nicole Kornher-Stace, Darcie Little Badger, Timothy Mudie, and Emma Osborne.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: General Fiction/Literary Fiction

Where the Story Starts by Imogen Clark

As single mother Leah struggles to get her children ready one morning, the doorbell rings. Standing on the doorstep of their terraced house in Whitley Bay is a well-dressed stranger, Clio, who feels an emotional tie to the house that she cant explain. The story should end there, but a long-buried secret is already on its way to the surface

The Overdue Life of Amy Byler by Kelly Harms

Overworked and underappreciated, single mom Amy Byler needs a break. So when the guilt-ridden husband who abandoned her shows up and offers to take care of their kids for the summer, she accepts his offer and escapes rural Pennsylvania for New York City. Usually grounded and mild mannered, Amy finally lets her hair down in the city that never sleeps. She discovers a life filled with culture, sophistication, andwith a little encouragement from her friendsa few blind dates. When one man in particular makes quick work of Amys heart, she risks losing herself completely in the unexpected escape, and as the summer comes to an end, Amy realizes too late that she must make an impossible decision: stay in this exciting new chapter of her life, or return to the life she left behind.

The Murmur of Bees by Sofa Segovia

From the day that old Nana Reja found a baby abandoned under a bridge, the life of a small Mexican town forever changed. Disfigured and covered in a blanket of bees, little Simonopio is for some locals the stuff of superstition, a child kissed by the devil. But he is welcomed by landowners Francisco and Beatriz Morales, who adopt him and care for him as if he were their own. As he grows up, Simonopio becomes a cause for wonder to the Morales family, because when the uncannily gifted child closes his eyes, he can see what no one else canvisions of all thats yet to come, both beautiful and dangerous. Followed by his protective swarm of bees and living to deliver his adoptive family from threatsboth human and those of natureSimonopios purpose in Linares will, in time, be divined.

One for the Blackbird, One for the Crow: A Novel by Olivia Hawker

Wyoming, 1876. For as long as they have lived on the frontier, the Bemis and Webber families have relied on each other. With no other settlers for miles, it is a matter of survival. But when Ernest Bemis finds his wife, Cora, in a compromising situation with their neighbor, he doesnt think of survival. In one impulsive moment, a man is dead, Ernest is off to prison, and the women left behind are divided by rage and remorse. Losing her husband to Coras indiscretion is another hardship for stoic Nettie Mae. But as a brutal Wyoming winter bears down, Cora and Nettie Mae have no choice but to come together as one familyto share the duties of working the land and raising their children. Theres Nettie Maes son, Clydeno longer a boy, but not yet a manwho must navigate the road to adulthood without a father to guide him, and Coras daughter, Beulah, who is as wild and untamable as her prairie home.

Halsey Street by Naima Coster

Penelope Grand has scrapped her failed career as an artist in Pittsburgh and moved back to Brooklyn to keep an eye on her ailing father. Shes accepted that her future wont be what shed dreamed, but now, as gentrification has completely reshaped her old neighborhood, even her past is unrecognizable. Old haunts have been razed, and wealthy white strangers have replaced every familiar face in Bed-Stuy. Even her mother, Mirella, has abandoned the family to reclaim her roots in the Dominican Republic. That took courage. Its also unforgivable.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Biography and Memoir

If You Tell: A True Story of Murder, Family Secrets, and the Unbreakable Bond of Sisterhood by Gregg Olsen

After more than a decade, when sisters Nikki, Sami, and Tori Knotek hear the word mom, it claws like an eagles talons, triggering memories that have been their secret since childhood. Until now. For years, behind the closed doors of their farmhouse in Raymond, Washington, their sadistic mother, Shelly, subjected her girls to unimaginable abuse, degradation, torture, and psychic terrors. Through it all, Nikki, Sami, and Tori developed a defiant bond that made them far less vulnerable than Shelly imagined. Even as others were drawn into their mothers dark and perverse web, the sisters found the strength and courage to escape an escalating nightmare that culminated in multiple murders.

The Boy Between Worlds: A Biography by Annejet van der Zijl

When they fell in love in 1928, Rika and Waldemar could not have been more different. She was a thirty-seven-year-old Dutch-born mother, estranged from her husband. He was her immigrant boarder, not yet twenty, and a wealthy Surinamese descendant of slaves. The child they have together, brown skinned and blue eyed, brings the couple great joy yet raises some eyebrows. Until the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands explodes their promising life. What unfolds is more than the astonishing story of a love that prevailed over convention. Its also the quest of a young boy. Through the cruelty of World War II, he will fight for a connection between his fathers South American birthplace and his mothers European traditions. Lost and displaced for much of his life, but with a legacy of resilience in his blood, he will struggle to find his place in the world.

The Pale-Faced Lie: A True Story by David Crow

Growing up on the Navajo Indian Reservation, David Crow and his three siblings idolized their dad. Tall, strong, smart, and brave, the self-taught Cherokee regaled his family with stories of his World War II feats. But as time passed, David discovered the other side of Thurston Crow, the ex-con with his own code of ethics that justified cruelty, violence, lieseven murder.

Prognosis: A Memoir of My Brain by Sarah Vallance

When Sarah Vallance is thrown from a horse and suffers a jarring blow to the head, she believes shes walked away unscathed. The next morning, things take a sharp turn as shes led from work to the emergency room. By the end of the week, a neurologist delivers a devastating prognosis: Sarah suffered a traumatic brain injury that has caused her IQ to plummet, with no hope of recovery. Her brain has irrevocably changed.

Born Survivors: Three Young Mothers and Their Extraordinary Story of Courage, Defiance, and Hope by Wendy Holden

The Nazis murdered their husbands but concentration camp prisoners Priska, Rachel, and Anka would not let evil take their unborn children tooa remarkable true story that will appeal to readers of The Lost and The Nazi Officers Wife, Born Survivors celebrates three mothers who defied death to give their children life.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Business/Money

Girl On Fire: How to Choose Yourself, Burn the Rule Book, and Blaze Your Own Trail in Life and Business by Cara Alwill Leyba

Who would you be if you stopped following *their* rules? What would you create if you create if you had nothing holding you back? Now that women entrepreneurs are banding together in sisterhood and realizing the importance of collaboration over competition, its time to take things to the next level. Its time to rise up, together, and challenge the status quo. Its time to question the way things have been done in the past, to write our own rules, and do life and business OUR way.

Understanding Your Clients through Human Design: The Breakthrough Technology by Robin Winn MFT

Human Design is the next evolution after Myers-Briggs, the Enneagram, and other innovative profiling systems. Whether your field is psychotherapy, recovery, coaching, or healing arts, and whether your clients are individuals, couples, families, or business teams, Understanding Your Clients through Human Design will empower your work and call you to reconsider how you approach people.

The 60 Minute Startup: A Proven System to Start Your Business in 1 Hour a Day and Get Your First Paying Customers in 30 Days (or Less) by Ramesh Dontha

Over 543,000 new businesses are started every month. Most fail. Many never get a paying customer. Why? Because new entrepreneurs are told to start with why, take internet marketing courses, and spend hours doing market research. Do these time-intensive activities attract customers? Make sales? Create profit? No! If youre ready to finally start a profitable business and dump the bad business advice that keeps you confused, overwhelmed, and broke, The 60 Minute Startup is for you. This book gives you a proven system on how to start a business online in just one hour a day and get your first paying customers in one month (or less).

Buy Hold Sell: The Street SmartWay to Real Estate Wealthby Lou Brown

At the turn of the 19th century, billionaire Andrew Carnegie famously said that 90% of millionaires got their wealth by investing in real estate. And guess what? Most millionaires, and even the ultra-rich, would tell you that is still true. Spend a few minutes Googling the phrase should I invest in real estate and it will quickly become clear that real estate investing is a great idea. What isnt so clear, though, is how to get started! Thats what this book will show you. Lou Brown bought his first piece of real estate in 1976 and never stopped. Over the years hes experienced more lessons from the school of hard knocks than he can count and has built a tremendously profitable real estate portfolio. Along the way, Lou discovered that he had a knack for structuring win-win deals, plus creating contracts and paperwork that gave him a competitive edge over other investors. In 1987 he began teaching others his proprietary method of investing, including the unique, proven Buy-Hold-Sell system he created the subject of this book.

A Beginners Guide to the Stock Market: Everything You Need to Start Making Money Today by Matthew R. Kratter

This book will teach you everything that you need to know to start making money in the stock market today. Dont gamble with your hard-earned money. If you are going to make a lot of money, you need to know how the stock market really works. You need to avoid the pitfalls and costly mistakes that beginners make. And you need time-tested trading and investing strategies that actually work. This book gives you everything that you will need. Its a simple road map that anyone can follow.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Graphic Novels

Akai Chapter 0 How To Become Strong by Anfernee Robinson

Akai is a young child with high hopes; bound in a society full of undiscovered powers; raised by Grandma in the Jex helps him develop a strong will. He will one day, begin a trial to Heavens Gate. The journey is a troubled one. The Black Orlov chain opens unparalleled events. Will Akai reach his Ultimate goal? Or will Akai bend fate forever?

Sandman Vol. 1: Preludes & Nocturnes 30th Anniversary Edition by Neil Gaiman

New York Times best-selling author Neil Gaimans transcendent series THE SANDMAN is often hailed as the definitive Vertigo title and one of the finest achievements in graphic storytelling. Gaiman created an unforgettable tale of the forces that exist beyond life and death by weaving ancient mythology, folklore and fairy tales with his own distinct narrative vision. In PRELUDES & NOCTURNES, an occultist attempting to capture Death to bargain for eternal life traps her younger brother Dream instead. After his 70 year imprisonment and eventual escape, Dream, also known as Morpheus, goes on a quest for his lost objects of power. On his arduous journey Morpheus encounters Lucifer, John Constantine, and an all-powerful madman.

The Essential Calvin and Hobbes: A Calvin and Hobbes Treasury by Bill Watterson

Bill Wattersons Calvin and Hobbes has been a worldwide favorite since its introduction in 1985. The strip follows the richly imaginative adventures of Calvin and his trusty tiger, Hobbes. Whether a poignant look at serious family issues or a round of time-travel (with the aid of a well-labeled cardboard box), Calvin and Hobbes will astound and delight you.

Fire Force Vol. 1 by Atsushi Ohkubo

The city of Tokyo is plagued by a deadly phenomenon: spontaneous human combustion! Luckily, a special team is there to quench the inferno: The Fire Force! The fire soldiers at Special Fire Cathedral 8 are about to get a unique addition. Enter Shinra, a boy who possesses the power to run at the speed of a rocket, leaving behind the famous devils footprints (and destroying his shoes in the process). Can Shinra and his cooleagues discover the source of this strange epidemic before the city burns to ashes?

Anne of Green Gables: A Graphic Novel by Mariah Marsden

The magic of L.M. Montgomerys treasured classic is reimagined in a whimsically-illustrated graphic novel adaptation perfect for newcomers and kindred spirits alike. When Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert decide to adopt an orphan who can help manage their family farm, they have no idea what delightful trouble awaits them. With flame-red hair and an unstoppable imagination, 11-year-old Anne Shirley takes Green Gables by storm. Annes misadventures bring a little romance to the lives of everyone she meets: her bosom friend, Diana Barry; the town gossip, Mrs. Lynde; and that infuriating tease, Gilbert Blythe. From triumphs and thrills to the depths of despair, Anne turns each everyday moment into something extraordinary.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Mystery/Thriller/Suspense

When We Believed in Mermaids by Barbara ONeal

Her sister has been dead for fifteen years when she sees her on the TV news Josie Bianci was killed years ago on a train during a terrorist attack. Gone forever. Its what her sister, Kit, an ER doctor in Santa Cruz, has always believed. Yet all it takes is a few heart-wrenching seconds to upend Kits world. Live coverage of a club fire in Auckland has captured the image of a woman stumbling through the smoke and debris. Her resemblance to Josie is unbelievable. And unmistakable. With it comes a flood of emotionsgrief, loss, and angerthat Kit finally has a chance to put to rest: by finding the sister whos been living a lie.

Uptown Thief by Aya de Len

Marisol Rivera barely survived being abused with nowhere to turn. So theres nothing she wont do to keep her Lower East Side womens health clinic open and give disadvantaged women new lives. Running an exclusive escort service for New York Citys rich and powerful 1 percent is the perfect way to bankroll her businessnot to mention the perfect cover for robbing corrupt CEOs. And when times get even tougher, pulling a heist on a mega-billionaire will secure the clinics futureand her gorgeous crewsfor good. . . Theres just one problem: Marisol didnt anticipate bad news even more dangerous than her curves.

Unspeakable Things by Jess Lourey

Cassie McDowells life in 1980s Minnesota seems perfectly wholesome. She lives on a farm, loves school, and has a crush on the nicest boy in class. Yes, there are her parents strange parties and their parade of deviant guests, but shes grown accustomed to them. All that changes when someone comes hunting in Lilydale. One by one, local boys go missing. One by one, they return changedviolent, moody, and withdrawn.

We Were Mothers: A Novel by Katie Sise

A scandalous revelation is about to devastate a picturesque town where the houses are immaculate and the neighborhoods are tightly knit. Devoted mother Cora OConnell has found the journal of her friend Laurels daughtera beautiful college student who lives next doorrevealing an illicit encounter. Hours later, Laurel makes a shattering discovery of her own: her daughter has vanished without a trace. Over the course of one weekend, the crises of two close families are about to trigger a chain reaction that will expose a far more disturbing web of secrets. Now everything is at stake as theyre forced to confront the lies they have told in order to survive.

In the Dark by Loreth Anne White

The promise of a luxury vacation at a secluded wilderness spa has brought together eight lucky guests. But nothing is what they were led to believe. As a fierce storm barrels down and all contact with the outside is cut off, the guests fear that its not a getaway. Its a trap. Each one has a secret. Each one has something to hide. And now, as darkness closes in, they all have something to fearincluding one another.

Best Kindle Unlimited Books 2020: Politics/Social Science

The Gene: An Intimate History by Siddhartha Mukherjee

Dr. Siddhartha Mukherjee dazzled readers with his Pulitzer Prize-winning The Emperor of All Maladies in 2010. That achievement was evidently just a warm-up for his virtuoso performance in The Gene: An Intimate History, in which he braids science, history, and memoir into an epic with all the range and biblical thunder of Paradise Lost (The New York Times). In this biography Mukherjee brings to life the quest to understand human heredity and its surprising influence on our lives, personalities, identities, fates, and choices.

A River in Darkness: One Mans Escape from North Korea by Masaji Ishikawa

Half-Korean, half-Japanese, Masaji Ishikawa has spent his whole life feeling like a man without a country. This feeling only deepened when his family moved from Japan to North Korea when Ishikawa was just thirteen years old, and unwittingly became members of the lowest social caste. His father, himself a Korean national, was lured to the new Communist country by promises of abundant work, education for his children, and a higher station in society. But the reality of their new life was far from utopian. In this memoir translated from the original Japanese, Ishikawa candidly recounts his tumultuous upbringing and the brutal thirty-six years he spent living under a crushing totalitarian regime, as well as the challenges he faced repatriating to Japan after barely escaping North Korea with his life. A River in Darkness is not only a shocking portrait of life inside the country but a testament to the dignityand indomitable natureof the human spirit.

The Mueller Report by The Washington Post

Read the findings of the Special Counsels investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election, complete with accompanying analysis by the Post reporters whove covered the story from the beginning.

War on Peace: The End of Diplomacy and the Decline of American Influence by Ronan Farrow

US foreign policy is undergoing a dire transformation, forever changing Americas place in the world. Institutions of diplomacy and development are bleeding out after deep budget cuts; the diplomats who make Americas deals and protect its citizens around the world are walking out in droves. Offices across the State Department sit empty, while abroad the military-industrial complex has assumed the work once undertaken by peacemakers. Were becoming a nation that shoots first and asks questions later. In an astonishing journey from the corridors of power in Washington, DC, to some of the most remote and dangerous places on earthAfghanistan, Somalia, and North Korea among themacclaimed investigative journalist Ronan Farrow illuminates one of the most consequential and poorly understood changes in American history. His firsthand experience as a former State Department official affords a personal look at some of the last standard bearers of traditional statecraft, including Richard Holbrooke, who made peace in Bosnia and died while trying to do so in Afghanistan.

Mossad: The Greatest Missions of the Israeli Secret Service by Michael Bar-Zohar

For decades, Israels renowned security arm, the Mossad, has been widely recognized as the best intelligence service in the world. In Mossad, authors Michael Bar-Zohar and Nissim Mishal take us behind the closed curtain with riveting, eye-opening, boots-on-the-ground accounts of the most dangerous, most crucial missions in the agencys 60-year history. These are real Mission: Impossible true stories brimming with high-octane actionfrom the breathtaking capture of Nazi executioner Adolph Eichmann to the recent elimination of key Iranian nuclear scientists. Anyone who is fascinated by the world of international espionage, intelligence, and covert Black-Ops warfare will find Mossad electrifying reading.

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/50-of-the-best-kindle-unlimited-books-you-can-read-in-2020

[michellemaphoto]

Rome, Italy

Hello there! I was in Italy in mid-summer, but as life took over since then, I’ve only had a chance to write about it now that I have a bit of downtime around the holidays.

Italy was a magical trip, not least because I had such a wonderful host and ample time on my hands to explore and wander. For those who have never been to Rome, it’s an amazing city to wander in, and I savored every minute of it. From wandering the streets, finding historical sites every few blocks, coffee shops, restaurants, and boutiques, there is always something interesting around the corner for me to discover and think about. Below are the highlights and more photos here. Enjoy!

Where I Stayed

I don’t have any photos of this place as I didn’t much like it, but I stayed at the Beehive Hostel, at the Clover offsite apartment house so I could have my own home. It’s only a few blocks from Termini station, but the off site apartment wasn’t in the best part of town and was definitely sketchy at night. While the interior was clean, it was little more than a place to sleep and shower, and wasn’t a place I felt like I could chill in. The guest turnaround was also what you’d expect from a hostel. Some were polite and friendly, some were rude and noisy, and others in-between. Overall, I would have had a better experience if I stayed on-site, but there weren’t any openings for the time of year I went, and I needed to be reasonably close to my friend and a subway station, plus I had budgeted more money into eating and shopping, so my options were indeed limited.  It wasn’t the most expensive place to stay in, but I was happy to be out and stay with Alexandra in her beautiful art-deco home for the remainder of my time in Rome.

Food

Ain’t a Rome post without writings on food. Rome was full of fresh and affordable food so I didn’t feel the urge to have fancy dinners here.  The best part about food in Italy is that it’s high quality, portioned well (neither too much nor too little, and never stingy), and affordable for students and working people alike. Food equality! I can’t emphasize enough the quality of ingredients and attention to the enjoyment of food. None of the food I had made me sleepy, sick, or otherwise feel horrible, which often happens in the US if I indulge in starch and sweets. And the passion people put in their food prep translates into an otherworldly experience when I take my first few bites, until the very end of my meal.  An entire country that loves food as much as, but likely more than, I do, and that makes all my favorite food beautifully. I’LL BE BACK!

Breakfast Food

For breakfast, I often had an espresso drink, either straight espresso, macchiato, or cappuccino, and perhaps with a pastry, such as a cornetto or chocolate croissant, when I was feeling more peckish. It’s usually what Italians eat for breakfast, and I don’t eat a lot of breakfast normally anyway, so it suited me well. Usually it’s 1 euro each for a drink and a pastry. I can’t imagine getting this level of quality and experience in the Bay Area for even 3x that price. Bay Area’s gotta step it up!

1. Cambridge Cafe

Cambridge Cafe was in a beautiful, more suburban part of town whose architecture was reminiscent of some neighborhoods in Paris. I loved the morning bustle here but it wasn’t touristy at all, which I much enjoyed. The coffee and pastries were also delicious!

I went here quite a few times for the delicious coffee and variety of pastries. The chocolate croissant was fresh and still had molten chocolate inside. 

2. Mizzica

This gem of a bakery serves Sicilian pastries and it was absolutely wondrous to look at the displays while I waited in line. I got a small pistachio cannolo and a chocolate pastry that resembled a donut (dunno what it’s called, sorry!). Both were incredible and I savored every last crumb. The cannoli in Italy are a different item completely from the starchy mess I’ve had in the US. It’s definitely worth a try from a genuine Sicilian bakery.

I made a real mess eating this. No regrets.

3. Mercato Centrale

Mercato Centrale is a food court that is connected to Termini Station above ground. But, calling it a food court is really a disservice because I have never seen any food court like this back in the US. Perhaps it’s a bit like the higher end food courts I found in the fancy department stores in Japan, but this definitely had its own flavor and personality. It’s open early and closes late, which is perfect for commuters and travelers alike, and serves a variety of foods, ranging from breakfast and pastries to coffee, wines, other drinks, and prepared foods such as pasta, sandwiches, and desserts. It also features a meat market and pasta market, so there’s plenty to see here.

I went here a couple times as well since it was at the train station nearest my hostel and served such delicious food I knew I could count on it in times of hangriness. The mercato here also serves coffee and pastries and I went here on one of my first days in Rome to try a couple items. I got a cappuccino and cornetto speciale (which has chocolate swirls in the crust), and had a bit of heaven. 

Lunch

There are so many lunch options in Rome it’s hard to list out all the choices I had, but I’ll list the highlights below. Any form of starch you want, you got it! Pasta, pizza, sandwiches, salads, and so much else, that I’d have to live here at least a few years to go into detail what the city has to offer. Here are my humble meals.

1. Mercato Centrale

Ok, I went here a bunch of times because of its convenience, quality, and sheer variety of food to eat. It also was smartly situated at my subway stop and was a great option after sightseeing all morning and needed to rest my feet before going back to the hostel. My first meal in Rome with my friend was actually here, where I had pasta with cacio e pepe. DELICIOUS. Blew my mind. No cacio e pepe in the US ever tasted like this. Actually, except for Pizzaiolo and Pazzo, no Italian restaurant in the US that I have tried has gotten even close to any pasta I’ve had in Rome. They just can’t touch this. And all this for about 8 euros! I was in heaven.

Cacio e pepe

Pesto pasta

Ravioli

2. Il Sorpasso

This place is great for a lunch or dinner and has a fun, busy vibe that’s great for meeting up with friends, and romantic enough for dinner. For lunch, I went by myself at at at the bar, starting first with a coffee, prosciutto, and having a potato tortino with vegetables. Delicious! If only there was a menu in English, as I’d actually been looking for a pasta with red sauce. So it goes. I also ordered too much, as you can probably guess. I was hungry. Just finish your food, kids, or you’ll get a disapproving look from the serving staff. SIGH.

3. Baccanale

Baccanale isn’t far from Piazza Navona or Campo d’Fiori, so it was a good stop for lunch while sightseeing that day. The sandwich options were also tasty and it was fun to walk around and see the sights while munching on a sandwich of salami and cheese.

Dinner

1. Ristorante Pecorino

This restaurant served incredible carbonara. Although, tbh, I about died at every meal because everything that I tried was so good. This place still blew everything away. It’s quite a bit pricier than the other places I listed above, but it’s well worth the money. There is even an additional level of refinement here in ambiance and food preparation that is worth every extra euro I paid for my meal. I ate with my friend Alexandra, first sharing a fried artichoke appetizer and digging into my carbonara, before finishing off the meal with a zabaione and amaro del capo. It was a dinner I won’t forget, and inspired me to make carbonara at home and search for quality guanciale. The search, sadly, continues, but the memory lives on.

The food was so good I even braved the cultural disapproval and exasperation in asking for a box to go so I could eat it for breakfast. No shame!

2. Il Sorpasso

Il Sorpasso was also a delicious place, and was completely different at night, with the darker dining area and candlelit meals. It’s a great place for a date or a nice night out with good friends, and I really enjoyed my meal here. We started with some bread and cheese, and I ordered a glass of red wine to go with my pasta.

3. L’antica Pizzeria Da Michele

This place is my pizza soulmate. It’s also incredibly busy so we went at 7:30 for dinner, which is early here, but perfect timing for me, which ended in a 10 minute wait (hooray!) For the two times I went here, I ordered local craft beer, which paired excellently with my Neapolitana and Margherita pizzas. Thin crust, baked at incredibly high temps for a short period of time, just enough to blister the crust and make it crunchy on the outside, while leaving the inside doughy and pleasantly chewy. When I go back to Rome, this will be one of my first stops after I dump my shit at the hotel. Yep.

4. Alice Pizza

Alice Pizza is Roman style pizza, and this place sells pizza by the kilo, so you can tell the server to cut as much as you’d like off the sheet of pizza on display. No shame. I loved the slightly thicker crust here, square slices, and the still-chewy dough. The Italians don’t take any shortcuts when it comes to their yeast bread, that’s for sure. 

I had this once at the actual restaurant and once at a house party, and both times the pizza was delicious and satisfying to the soul. Very different from the Neapolitan pizza, but no less satisfying. I had mushrooms and margherita, the slices were substantial.

5. Ops!

One evening, we felt like having something simple, so opted to go to Ops! for dinner, where food is purchased buffet style and weighed at the cashier. It was a simple arrangement and the food was delicious. No complaints here.

Other grocery stores

The grocery stores here were also to die for. I loved to wander the aisles and see what each shop had to offer, whether it was an incredible wine selection, chocolate section, or lots of fresh fruit. Some of the best grocery stores were small family-owned ones selling the most incredibly fresh fruit I have ever seen. I purchased a kilo of cherries for less than 3 euros, and it was a varietal I can’t find in the states. Sweet with nuance, crispy, juicy, fleshy, and better than anything people describe as fruit that tastes like candy. The bigger grocery stores that had prepared food sold a mouth-watering variety of fresh baked bread, burratta cheese and other cheeses, and cured meats, such as salami and prosciutto. These places are great when going on a picnic, and we stopped by on our way to a picnic at Villa Borghese with another friend living in Rome.

Gelato

I’m not allowed to skip this section. Mostly because I had gelato nearly every day... Yep. It was that good. And there are that many places to try. And every place serves 2 scoops of gelato of your choice, fills the bottom of your cone (and you had better get a cone, you noob) with molten milk or white chocolate, and even gives you fresh whipped cream or a cookie on top, depending on the place, for no extra charge. All under 3 euros. So eat your heart out. I certainly did, and I had no shame in walking a bit extra instead of buying another subway pass just so I could have those minutes of anticipation and bliss. So do it. You won’t regret this. Especially in a fucking June-July heat wave. 

The gelato I had at these places (and everywhere else I went) had incredibly fresh gelato, often made with organic ingredients. You could taste the chocolate, the fruit, and all the quality ingredients and love that went into each scoop. You can see the attention with which each server scoops and shapes the gelato by hand (with such flair!) onto the cone so that it’s the perfect soft-serve consistency from the first bite, or fills the cone with molten chocolate, or adds the little cookie on top. The love and attention to detail are everywhere, AS LONG AS YOU AVOID THE TOURIST TRAPS. Not only are the tourist traps more expensive, the ingredients are cheap and they might even use food coloring for how strangely some of the gelato looked coming out of those shops. Just don’t do it. Walk those extra blocks and try these places, or I’ll scorn you forever. And get the regular size -- two scoops, on a cone. Don’t try to cheap out or count calories with one cone or ask for a damn cup. Or you’ll endure the hatred of literally everyone in Italy. Eat this proper. 

1. Guttilla

This was my favorite gelato place of all I tried in Rome. The gelato was better than La Romana, the cone was slightly sweet, pleasantly crunchy on the outside with a tiny but of doughyness on the tongue on the inside, and the fruit berry gelato flavor was to die for. I went here at least a couple times. I’d learn Italian just so I could order food.

I didn’t have time to check out all the other goodies on offer here, but I’ll come back for you!

Whimsy and art taken to a fanatical level. YES. You are my people.

2. Gelateria La Romana

The whipped cream at this place trumps the whipped cream I had at any other gelato place in Italy, period. While Guttilla had better gelato, the whipped cream here is worth the trip alone. Don’t get me wrong, the gelato is still top notch and I’m splitting hairs here. Try this too!

And try these and tell me what they’re like! They look heavenly.

Sightseeing

I sprinkled all the eating in between sightseeing, so I’d advise travelers to map out what sights are close to each other and in what neighborhoods, and then do research on places to eat nearby. Rome required a TON of walking, about as much as Tokyo did, so I had to prepare for transit time and good shoes. Not to mention being hungry after a couple hour-long outing.

I organized my sightseeing highlights in order of my favs (Vatican City and Museum of Modern Art being my top picks if you only have 24-48 hours in Rome), and the rest are grouped by vicinity, for ease of planning. Hope this helps! 

1. Vatican City

The Vatican was my favorite sight in all of Rome, to my surprise. I’m neither very knowledgeable about the history of the Vatican nor Catholic, but the museum had a collection of breathtaking structures and pieces of art that I was in awe my entire time here. My favorite gallery was the Gallery of Cartography of Italy, since I love looking at maps and the ornate ceiling was captivating. 

The Sistine Chapel (no photos allowed) was beautiful as well, and well worth the crowds and the pushy people, but after seeing all the beauty around me on the rest of the tour, it wasn’t my main highlight.

My favorite at the Vatican was, of course, St. Peter’s Basilica. The architecture, art and sculpture, history and overall feel of being inside and having a quiet moment is something special which I can’t describe in words. It was a comforting and awe-inspiring place to be, and I’m lucky to have been able to visit and drink in all the beauty and history. 

No visit to St. Peter’s is complete without a climb up the cupola, or dome, for an extra few euros.The climb up is long and stuffy, and the crowds can be unbearable at times, but the view of the rest of the Vatican looking down, and the rest of Rome, is truly worth the struggle. And with the crowds that day and the intense heat, it was one of those days where I wanted a nap and gelato after.

Also, after seeing the museums and St. Peter’s during the day, it was quite a nice change to come back at night later in my trip to see the Vatican lit up at night, with quiet streets and no crowds. 

2. National Gallery of Modern Art

The National Gallery of Modern Art was a close second when it came to favorite sites. It contains art (paintings, sculpture, other installations) from the 19th and 20th centuries and has the largest modern art collection in all of Italy. Many of the pieces were striking in their simplicity and use of color and lines, and others were more whimsical. It was a great way to spend an afternoon, indoors and away from the heat. Not only are the museum grounds beautiful, but the walk through the museum was incredibly well-planned and the items on exhibit carefully curated. So, while the museum was one of the smaller ones I visited when in Italy, every piece made me pause in thought. I’m also a modern art lover, so this was an ideal place to visit! It’s accessible by tram and is pretty easy to get to. Favorite art pieces below!

3. Colosseum

I saw the Colosseum, Roman Forum, Trajan’s Column, and Vittoriano in one trip as they’re all walking distance from each other, and off the Colosseo subway stop. I actually visited the Roman Forum, Trajan’s Column, and Vittoriano a few times while walking by and wandering the city, so I was able to capture the Forum and Vittoriano during the day and at night. 

I learned some really neat facts about the Colosseum while walking on the grounds. It required a ticket to get in, and took about an hour to an hour and a half to walk through different parts of the structure and through the museum. It was breathtaking not only by its sheer size, condition of the surviving structure, and also with the knowledge that the entire thing was build without modern tools. To add on top of that, the stadium seating and entrances and exits were designed so that the a full stadium of people could completely exit the Colosseum in only a few minutes. I don’t know if even modern stadium can accomplish that. Apparently, the Colosseum also had become a jungle as it grew over and fell into disuse, and in the Middle Ages, was inhabited by people who partitioned off parts into homes and workshops. What a history!

4. The Roman Forum

The Roman Forum was also a sight to see. Sunken below street level, the walkway we walked on was the same sidewalk the Romans used thousands of years ago. I pictured the marketplaces, places of worship (temples and churches), and even Caesar’s funeral pyre as I walked around the Roman Forum, admiring the beautiful marble pillars still standing and the ornate carving on them.

5. Trajan’s Column

North of the Roman Forum and across the street, Trajan’s Column was built in AD 113 or so, and celebrated Emperor Trajan’s victory in the Dacian Wars. The spiral bas relief was something to see, thousands of years later.

6. Vittoriano

The Vittoriano was built in the 19th century to honor Italy’s first king, and was even more beautiful at night.

7. Pizza Navona

I visited Piazza Navona, the Trevi Fountain, Campo d’Fiori, and Pantheon in a walking tour one day, which took the better part of the late morning and afternoon, counting a couple times when I took a wrong turn, and also when I stopped to browse some boutiques. The Piazza Navona was actually my favorite spot of all of these four, followed closely by the Pantheon. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as interested in the Trevi Fountain, despite all the talk it gets. 

Fountain of the Four Rivers, with an Egyptian obelisk.

8. Trevi Fountain

The Trevi Fountain, in the district of Trevi, is the largest baroque fountain in Rome. Even though it was stunning and beautiful, I much preferred Piazza Navona and the fountain there.

9. Campo d’Fiori

Campo d’Fiori, south of Piazza Navona, was a square with an outdoor market, comprised mostly of touristy souvenirs, and crowded as all hell. I walked around quickly and then wandered to Baccanale for lunch, barely a block or so away.

10. Pantheon

The Pantheon was something else. Another structure whose sheer scale and grandeur, not to mention condition, the Pantheon was well worth the horrible crowds, just so I could go inside and look up in amazement at the beauty around me. Sadly, my humble 50mm could not capture all I could see.

11. Largo di Torre Argentina

I couldn’t visit the site of Caesar’s funeral pyre at the Roman Forum and not go to Largo di Torre Argentina, the site where he was murdered.

11. Villa Borghese

I didn’t walk through all of Villa Borghese, as it’s huge, but the gardens are beautiful, tranquil, and the perfect spot for some morning exercises or an afternoon picnic. I opted for the latter with a couple friends and enjoyed a leisurely meal in the shade of a large tree.

12. Monti neighborhood

On my first day in Rome, Alexandra took me for a nice after lunch stroll through Monti, a picturesque and popular neighborhood, where I could start to soak in the architecture, coffee, and gelato.

13. Romeow Cat Cafe

I had to go here. I mean, I went to Tokyo just to see 20 cats eating in a row at the MoCHA Cat Cafe in Shibuya. Rome has one cat cafe, and I had to see what the Italian kitties were like. The cafe served delicious smoothies and had a coffee shop / lounge feel that was great for conversation and for searching for kitties to pet. It was really fun and low-key, and quite different from the Tokyo experience, which felt more structured.

The Cat Cafe is in the Testaccio neighborhood, so I had a chance to wander through the area, admire Pyramide, and head to Ristorante Pecorino for lunch after.

Shopping

No post about Rome is complete without a list of places to go shopping or browse:

Intimissimi: for pajamas and underwear, and all other pretty things

Flavio Castellani: for high end boutique clothing made in Italy. It’s high quality here, with the flair of something you can only get in Italy, but without the ghastly price tag of Gucci. Do check it out, even if you don’t buy!

And, if you do go shopping, ask about getting VAT refunds, and get to the airport early to cash out at a Global Blue kiosk. Don’t be those asshole tourists who try to cut in line, 10 at a time, so they can get their money back AND make their flight back. They got yelled at. No sympathy! 

Go to Rome! Also, go to Florence! I’ll be writing about it soon :)