#manipulation of information

[gioia-writes-and-others]

🦐🦐 MIXED FRIED mode ON !!! 🦐🦐

aka WRITING SHARE! (it's been a while!)

In the spirit of "fuck it we ball" AND breaking that unhealty habit of overthinking and procrastinate posting here a few snippets of a scene that gave me quite the headache....and still does 😒

Not the whole scene because....reasons (spoilers?)

Special THANK for the tag to :

@aintgonnatakethis for WIP Weekend

@theeccentricraven for Nine lines Nine people

@willtheweaver for Seven Sentence Sunday Someday and another one on Sunday (not me though 😂)

and @wintersennwritings for WIP Weekend Weekday

Snippets DRAFT ZERO - The scarred angel (Ashley Knox trilogy) AND some art under the cut

CW : blood, injuries,possible torture, swearing, murder

The screen showed what looked like a fingerprint magnified multiple times over.

The red cursor blinked and bit down pixels, the trajectory defined by the code scrolling across the screen generating the necessary electrical impulses, worked like any eraser tool in a graphic software leaving behind large patches of black.

"It's empty now....." the man wearing a white lab coat muttered, basically to no one but himself, squinting through his spectacles at the output on the screen.

His quite imposing stature forced him to sit slightly slouched forward.

Bony pale fingers switched continuously from mouse to keyboard without him taking his eyes off to what on-display.

Except... it wasn't empty.

.......

.............

One of the two men standing behind White-coat snorted through the handkerchief fabric concealing his nose and mouth :

"What the fuck? He'll trash all those fucking wires you stuck on his head, why you don't sedate the bastard?"

...........

..............

White-coat chin pointed towards the glass wall that separated them from the gruesome scene : "Shut him down." he instructed the two men, voice neutral and fingers keeping up the typing on the keyboard.

It was the second man's turn to snort as he walked briskly towards the glass door, pulling out a gun from behind the waist band.

The door had barely swung open when the silent blow brought the subject's ordeal to an end, sending splotches of red blood and gray matter all over the wall next to him.

...........

..................

The two men pulled the plastic coat that covered part of the walls up to the floor underneath the chair, opened the shackles and shoved down the corpse that hit the floor with a heavy thud, rolled it inside the tarp folding the exceeding haphazardly and started to drag the whole thing, one to each side.

"Next time fix that better, would you?" the first one complained loud enough through the fabric.

The other grumbled back something unintelligible, an unlit cigarette dangling between his lips.

Just few minutes before his hand had found the lighter in his pocket to lit it up.

It would had help to bare with the fetor coming from God knows where, since the bastard on the chair was still alive at that point.

But White-coat's stern look, the only moment where the fucker had dignified them with a glance, had stopped him midway.

Clearly this fucker had to be immune to the miasma.

So now, as his comrade was pissing him off, he came back to him that it really did suck they couldn't get rid of this White-coat ass too.

Because the orders, of course.

.............

............

When they passed next to the desk where he was abusing his keyboard White-coat instructed : "Bring the next in." still not taking his eyes off from the screen, tone flat.

Both men barked out a groan.

"Fuck man, are you telling me we have to cover it all up again?" blurted out Thug-number-one through the hankie.

At that White-coat finally snapped out from his work.

He tilted his head and in a nervous reflex adjusted his spectacles on the bridge of his nose, like he hadn't fully acknowledge the presence of the two thugs in the lab with him until that very moment.

.....

.......

The two men finally reached the corridor that leaded to the outside.

.........

"I'm telling you, this whole thing is rubbing me all wrong." Thug-number-two grumbled again.

Thug-number-one nodded, fucking finally getting rid of the hanky and using it to drab dry the sweat from his brow.

"This son of a bitch is fucking heavy" he chin pointed to the roll tarp "Pick up the next one skinny, shall we?"

Out in the open on the truck's cargo bed were piled up several other corpses already, summarily wrapped in a mess of blood-stained tarp, the layers not to discourage swarms of buzzing flies that lift in the air as the men made an ultimate effort to lift and dump the last dead man's body with the others.

...........

For a while the only noise came from the flies buzz feasting and the sandy dust scrunching under the soles as the two enjoyed - fucking finally - a well deserved smoke, back leaned against one side of the truck in the only very thin sleeve of shadow.

Then Thug-number-two broke the silence : "The asshole said 'another one'." he tsked.

............

Another bunch of seconds trailed while both drag on their cigarette and exhaled smoke then Thug-number-two prompted again : "You know what this shit's about at least?"

At that Thug-number-one made a face, his resolution to keep quiet instantly out : "What? You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"New business man!"

Thug-number-two arched a brow, skeptic.

Thug-number-one insisted eagerly, enjoying the sudden authority that came from being the only one aware of what's going on : "Fuck, man, I'm telling you! All this shit? Progress, man!"

Thug-number-two gave him an unimpressed look : "Fuck progress, has Moreno said that?" he almost pouted.

"Man, are you against progress?" Thug-number-two mocked him.

The other shrugged : "Fuck off!" he muttered averting his gaze, then spat on the ground and sucked on the cigarette keeping silence, all to underline his contempt.

Thug-number-one toke his time and let his comrade sunk in his bad mood for a bit, then chucked the butt in the dust, snuffed it with the heel and conceded : "Moreno didn't say shit".

He straightened up and adjusted the belt under his prominent stomach : "I've picked things up by myself. See all that crap now, computers and stuff?"

The other gave him the eye, but clearly enough he wanted to know.

...

............

Also working some art for one of my OCs, Frank Morales....not there yet in the way I imagine him but wip

(The girl is not happy about it....😅)

Aight, let's tag some people (np) + OPEN TAG and a drink 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻

@kiennwrites @gaslightwestern @onravenshill

@falco-underscore-77 @bonnibelleangelica @ncashmanfiction

@the-golden-comet @legalownerofufoemoji @dragoninatrenchcoat

@bluefiredesire @aalinaaaaaa @illarian-rambling

@lunaeuphternal @zackprincebooks @wyked-rebellion

@vesanal @jev-urisk @badscientist

@peach-the-gospel @jacobwren @inadequatecowboy

@orphanheirs @riveriafalll @saturnine-saturneight

@cowboybrunch @words-after-midnight

@letterboxd-in @angofwords

@deanwax @thecomfywriter @leahnardo-da-veggie

@lychhiker @avaseofpeonies @alinacapellabooks

@mapplesand @kaeru483 @dnschmidt

@keeping-writing-frosty @ryns-ramblings @aspiring-dreamer

@rivenantiqnerd @pertweefan1970 @agirlandherquill

@innerthoughtsmonologue

@noxxytocin @moltenwrites

[ashleyknoxtrilogy]

🦐 MIXED FRIED / Writing share ( with ART) 🦐

****

THANK YOU for all the open tags to 🦐@the-golden-comet HERE

and HERE and for all the OPEN KISSES tags HERE HERE 🦐

+ various flavors of writing share to 🦐 @tragedycoded HERE ,

🦐 @peach-the-gospel HERE and 🦐 @aalinaaaaaa HERE

****

Wip The scarred angel / DRAFT Zero - actual chp 9 "The den"

ART (IbisPaint, yes, I'm playing with it) + Text under the cut / CW body fluids (?)

.......

What they see are metal bars running from the ground to the ceiling same as a prison cell, bare and completely empty but for the deadly stink of urine mingled with the stale of other non specified substances.

Ashley clenches her teeth while she swipes the rye of the torch's light over the rock walls, the unwilling tension clasping at her nape and the pit of her stomach obviously going unnoticed by the two women with her.

Which is exactly how it has to be.

The lingering stink reminding ammonia's does speak loud enough about people that have been held captive inside.

Now the cell's door has been left locked, the key nowhere to be seen.

Since there is nothing more to check they resume the inspection and walk deeper into the gallery.

.........

..................

Eyes open wide in shock when they push open the second door.

"Is this a lab ?" Amy speaks first, almost in aw, while she takes in the surroundings.

A fair work has been achieved to get this part of the gallery almost matching a typical white collar working space, including a ventilation system and rather some equipment, considering what's been left, to re-create a functional setting.

"They lack on the decoration side..."Amy mutters in bitter irony to balance the surprise.

These walls are bare indeed but for a few office magnetic boards that have been swiped clean, and a regular paper print of the Holy Mary stuck crookedly on the wall near the entrance.

Amy follows Ashley's gaze lingering over that one.

"Do they pray?" she asks not holding back the disbelief in her pitch at the sight of the sacred image.

Pretty much out of place, to say the least, borderline surrealistic.

Ashley's eyes narrow for a moment, brow furrowed, then she shrugs as a response and sweeps her attention across the rest of the space.

....

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

Drink of the week 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻 + tag (NP) to :

@cowboybrunch @lavender-gloom @mk-writes-stuff

@deanwax @alinacapellabooks @wyked-ao3

@dismalstation @lunaeuphternal @malignant-biomass

@jacobwren @legalownerofufoemoji

@zackprincebooks @abiteofhoney @vesanal

@inadequatecowboy @bluefiredesire

@oleanderbailey @theeccentricraven @willtheweaver

@mapplesand @dnschmidt

@thecomfywriter @ryns-ramblings

@aspiring-dreamer @illarian-rambling

@cloudyempress8888 @pertweefan1970

@agirlandherquill @leahnardo-da-veggie

@words-after-midnight @the-letterbox-archives @rivenantiqnerd

@noxxytocin @moltenwrites

@innerthoughtsmonologue @jev-urisk

@lychhiker-writes @avaseofpeonies @aintgonnatakethis

@castiels-favorite-hunter @badscientist @saturnine-saturneight @orphanheirs @lullabynorth @riveriafalll

[gioia-writes-and-others]

WIP Wednesday FRIDAY 🦐

Late, doesn't matter, thank you @willtheweaver for tagging me!

****

In the whole spirit of "Fuck it We ball" , snippet from my wip :

Ashley Knox trilogy

Yeah, apparently I DON'T write chronologically 🫠  (so the snippet will probably go in book 2)

****

When the ageless woman that they still called shaman saw the young girl the first reaction was to frown: what the Spirits had just sent her?

Of course she was acquainted of her last task waiting to start, supposedly in shape of someone that would have reach for her.

Yet, despite knowing the truth, her human rational mind hadn't gone that far to imagine - couldn't imagine - that!

So that the ageless woman first reaction was : "What I'm suppose to do with her?"

Seeing the fury festering inside the girl she was in measure to foretell that that task would be both hard work, probably a long shot.

Teachers of all times have no control on how fast their pupils can achieve the work and there were many aspects of that path that not even her could speed up. Or would.

.......

(Guess who "the girl" is)

****

Art will be for another time, meanwhile show me what you got!

No pressure though and a drink 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻

@kiennwrites @gaslightwestern @spottedleech

@bi0mass @the-golden-comet

@legalownerofufoemoji @dragoninatrenchcoat

@bluefiredesire @aalinaaaaaa @illarian-rambling

@lunaeuphternal @zackprincebooks @wyked-rebellion

@vesanal @jev-urisk @badscientist

@peach-the-gospel @jacobwren @inadequatecowboy

@orphanheirs @riveriafalll @saturnine-saturneight

@cowboybrunch @words-after-midnight @the-letterbox-archives

@angofwords @topazadine @aintgonnatakethis

@deanwax @thecomfywriter @leahnardo-da-veggie

@lychhiker-writes @avaseofpeonies @alinacapellabooks

@mapplesand @kaeru483 @lullabynorth

@theeccentricraven @willtheweaver @dnschmidt

@keeping-writing-frosty @ryns-ramblings @aspiring-dreamer

@rivenantiqnerd @pertweefan1970 @agirlandherquill

@innerthoughtsmonologue @wintersennwritings

@moonandris @rinatthemin @theforestswillechowithlaughter4

@thewell-traveledmentalmerchant

WIP Wednesday

Thanks for the tag @pippinoftheshire

Here’s a watercolor piece I’m working on right now featuring Fen and Playa (I may use this as cover art for Snow on the Pines if it looks good):

NP tag @sarandipitywrites @world-of-iridensia @write-with-will @riveriafalll @moltenwrites

@winterandwords @ahordeofwasps @leahnardo-da-veggie @writingrosesonneptune @gioia-writes-and-others and open tag

[gioiaalbanoart]

WRITING and ART blog BUT ......

I was wrongly shadowbanned at some point, IT DID piss me off and I made another blog so me and Ashley Knox are running there rn.

Until the next shadowban/glitch 💀💀

********

GO TO : @gioia-writes-and-others

WRITING (Enora_Wings on AO3) : Fanfics and ORIGINALS

ART : website + etsy shop

********

I'm always Benter btw and Maude too

[soapbbox]

Ooough I just know op is gonna take Meg to everyone else and elita is gonna be pissed while bee is just OMG HIIII ITS SO NICE TO SEE YOU!!! Bc that's his friend even if he is evil

That’s one of his first ever friends, of course he’s happy to see him!! Continuing from this comic.

[gioia-writes-and-others]

Story Base Idea Tag

Rules: Share the original base ideas for your WIPs

Thank you @gaslightwestern 💗

Ashley Knox Trilogy is my curse and obsession

I wanted to show what information is at cells level and how that plays in our life in different ways, showing the outcome both in our reality and from a spiritual pov, knowing that one doesn't exist without the other, whatever each of us might believe 😉

All this with drug cartels in the background and I wanted contrast, balance, evolution and a badass protagonist 💖

Tag (NP) : @wyked-original-writing @alinacapellabooks @cain-e-brookman @wintersennwritings @deanwax @willtheweaver @saturnine-saturneight + OPEN and a drink 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻

Story Base Idea Tag

Rules: Share the original base ideas for your WIPs

When Sins Haunt: A journalist flees the wrath of a New York criminal overlord and gets caught up in a cycle of revenge between an ex-socialite and a notorious gang of outlaws.

I wanted to write a revenge western where a socialite-turned-gunslinger goes after a gentleman-turned-outlaw when he ruins her life yet again. One where the two leads contrast (the journalist is in the wrong genre) and for him to be tied to the backstory.

Hell's Half Acre: A runaway socialite struggles to hide her troubled past as she and two headstrong cowboys hunt down a killer. The reason why the socialite fled out west unfolds alongside the murder mystery, with both stories mirroring each other as they unravel.

The backstory for When Sins Haunt is a urban crime drama/tragic romance. Given WSH is a straight-up western, the prequel felt too different in structure and tone. So I said screw it, let's explore the Charlotte's first year out west and make Hell's Half Acre a dual narrative. Sometimes I fear the story is too big and must be split. But I love the idea of two stories mirroring one another and how the parallels would drive the actions of a guilt-ridden protagonist.

I was tagged by @roselinbooks here. Thank you! Tagging @orphanheirs, @gioia-writes-and-others, @fitz-higgins and @leahnardo-da-veggie. No pressure, as always! :)

[huginsmemory]

The one thing led to another night is very much likely hinting at Bill and Ford fucking, but considering Stan's penchant for getting married while drunk, LITERALLY at one point to ol' Goldie, a horrifying gold panning statue souvenir dispenser(?), may mean that Ford would also have a penchant for that. So Ford marrying Bill that night, instead of them fucking (or marrying and fucking) is actually plausible, and also EXTREMELY FUNNY to me. Both of them have such terrible romance track records.

Also like, I know there's a lot of jokes going around about Stanley being like YOU FUCKED A TRIANGLE? Which I love btw, but like. SIR YOU MARRIED A MAYBE CURSED SOUVENIR DISPENSER THATS A STATUE OF A HORRIFYING OLD MAN GOLD PANNING, DO YOU REALLY HAVE A LEG TO STAND ON?

[gioia-writes-and-others]

OCKISS 2025 / Valentine...

Fuck it! This is what I got for keeping up to procrastinate 😂😂

All wip, the text and the art!

(Potentially this would be one of the last scene in book one....before.....)

The scarred angel / DRAFT ZERO

....

Ashley doesn't say a word but swerves the wheel on the right and pulls the Lincoln on the side of the road.

Break pedal all the way down and handbrake up almost at the same time, the car jolts at the improvised stop.

Her eyes lock with Amy's .

For a moment the only sound filling the air is the engine's humming in the background, then the sharp crack of seat belts unfastening and the driver seat pushed all the way back echoes in the cabin.

Amy's already on Ashley's lap straddling her, urgency consuming.

Hearts ignite and mouths collide.

At first Amy's hands grip Ashley's shoulders to stabilize herself, fingertips digging into the fabric eager of the feeling of the skin underneath, then her left hand stroke up cradling Ashley's face, the pad of her thumb brushing gently the scarred skin while her right slides up  into that mass of hair, fingers curling in.

It's almost an intoxicating relief to finally sink her fingers in, to give in into the softness and the tickling of golden frizzy curls to the point that Amy has to hold back from squeezing too hard.

......

Stay hydrated !!!! 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻 Tag (np), I wanna see your OCKISS 2025 :

@tragedycoded @the-golden-comet @wyked-rebellion

@mk-writes-stuff @legalownerofufoemoji

@bluefiredesire @aalinaaaaaa @illarian-rambling

@lunaeuphternal @malignant-biomass @zackprincebooks

@castiels-favorite-dumbass @abiteofhoney @vesanal

@peach-the-gospel @jacobwren @inadequatecowboy

@orphanheirs @riveriafalll @saturnine-saturneight

@autism-purgatory @jev-urisk @badscientist

@cowboybrunch @words-after-midnight @the-letterbox-archives

@angofwords @topazadine @aintgonnatakethis

@deanwax @thecomfywriter @leahnardo-da-veggie

@lychhiker-writes @avaseofpeonies @alinacapellabooks

@mapplesand @kaeru483 @lullabynorth

@theeccentricraven @willtheweaver @dnschmidt

@ryns-ramblings @aspiring-dreamer @rivenantiqnerd

@pertweefan1970 @agirlandherquill @innerthoughtsmonologue

@noxxytocin @moltenwrites @distortedsense

[ashleyknoxtrilogy]

🦐🦐 Mixed Fried Writing Share 🦐🦐

Soooooooooooo late!!! It might start to smell a bit !

As usual thank you for the tag to :

@the-golden-comet HERE HERE HERE (lots of kisses) HERE and HERE (lots of seven sentences and yes I'm awfully late)

to @wyked-original-writing HERE , @theeccentricraven HERE and HERE , @aalinaaaaaa HERE and @tragedycoded HERE

****

From TSA / The scarred angel - Ashley Knox book 1

DRAFT ZERO and back to chapter (8 ? ) + smug smile sketch in progress

****

...................

For now Ashley decides to not push it.

She still thinks that she's going to get Amy's back on the safe side of the border sooner than later.

In the meantime they finally managed to get into that fucking red mercedes and drive away.

............

............

"We'll better make a stop." Ashley states.

Amy rummages on the top pocket of her backpack : "I still have some money and my credit card, we can find something for the night and....SHIT!" 

Ashley gives her a surprised look.

"I have to call Phil!"

Who's Phil?

The question crosses Ashley's mind but she doesn't voice it.

"He must be worry sick, if he already got a news about what happened...." Amy's voice trails off, clearly concerned by that eventuality.

She glares at Ashley : "Too bad, I don't have my phone anymore though..."

Ashley barely arches a brow mostly unimpressed by both the implications and the sarcasm held in the remark but still takes note of Amy's urgency : "We'll get a burner at the next gas station."

Right...

The question sounds stupid in her own head but Amy asks anyway : "What about you? Don't you have someone to call?"

At first Amy is met with the usual silence in the guise of an answer, Ashley's gaze stay fixed at the road ahead.

She's not eager to talk with the chief because he'll ask about Amy and Ashley really doesn't look forwards to answer about that.

Instead she spiels off to herself that Amy will call this Phil guy alright and she'll get whatever flight in a couple of day at the most, away from there.

Ashley will be done with it.

Also, it's unlikely that Herrera knows more than her right now anyway, so, what's the point?

Let the man cook for a couple of days.

"I'll keep in mind to call Herrera, just not today." she cuts it short.

Amy says nothing at first, slightly confused by the unexpected lack of enthusiasm.

Not that the events of the last couple of hours would prove otherwise, it's more likely he needs her than she needs him.

Beside, that girl is a mystery.

Amy's mind wanders to a few days before at the police headquarters and the chief telling the story of how him and Ashley had met.

She can't help to wonder what Ashley's life has been like since.

Has she really been by herself all this time?

Amy's the opposite of a person with an intense social life but finds difficult to believe that Ashley just keep strolls by herself through such a hostile world.

She has known hostile but this is a new different level.

Does Ashley live too in survive mode?

Even with having been directly involved with her endeavors the last couple of hours everything Amy's witnessed still feels alien to her and she certainly must return the same impression.

And yet ..... a flickering thought pops, tastes like certitude.

The most alien of all even if she's still anxious to call Phil to not keep him worried in the dark.

Contentment.

Unexpected contentment.

Being with Ashley makes her content in the weirdest way.

......

*********

Tag (np) for a writing share and a drink too 🍻☕🍷☕ 🍹🍻 :

@castiels-favorite-hunter @jacobwren @zackprincebooks @abiteofhoney

@deanwax @alinacapellabooks @wyked-ao3

@vesanal @bi0mass @inadequatecowboy @bluefiredesire

@orphanheirs @lullabynorth @riveriafalll @oleanderbailey

@dierama-mojo @mapplesand

@dnschmidt @badscientist @thecomfywriter @ryns-ramblings

@kaeru483 @aspiring-dreamer @illarian-rambling

@lyutenw @lychhiker-writes

@cloudyempress8888 @pertweefan1970 @agirlandherquill @authorcoledipalo @leahnardo-da-veggie

@davycoquette @lavender-gloom @saturnine-saturneight @cowboybrunch @words-after-midnight

@the-letterbox-archives @motheyesofnight @rivenantiqnerd @noxxytocin @moonsbetween

@angofwords @moltenwrites @topazadine @redmiguelito @innerthoughtsmonologue

@jev-urisk @avaseofpeonies @aintgonnatakethis @autism-purgatory @willtheweaver

[gioia-writes-and-others]

Oh, look! Thank you for the tag @illarian-rambling !!

Last Line Tag

(ok, last three...rules are made to be broken and all that)

****

From Ashley Knox trilogy book 2

No set of balls could have spared her that taste of metallic bile coating the throat nor that weight at the pit of the stomach. Yet she gathered all she could to focus on what had to come next.

Tag (NP) to : @alinacapellabooks @aintgonnatakethis @wyked-original-writing @gaslightwestern @willtheweaver + OPEN

Thanks for the tag @theink-stainedfolk!

Last Line Tag

Been working on Wild Type some more, little by little (:

Kid nodded morosely. "I just hope he's okay without me."

I need you to understand that he's talking about a bucket right now. Not a magic sentient bucket. Just a bucket.

I'll tag @gioia-writes-and-others @leahnardo-da-veggie @houndsofcorduff @seastarblue @leebrontide and anyone else who wants in!

[twilight-zoned-out]

John Walker is implied to be chronically online.

[etherealily]

ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ // ​ɴ.ᴊ [2]

My other Nate fics. If you have the time.

Hi everyone! Hope you're fine. If not, enjoy being better than Nate (you always were, but this is just confirmation)!

This is part two of a two-part fic. [Queued + not proofread]

[Part 1 here.]

Nate Jacobs x fem!reader. SFW, but discretion advised. Masochism(?), violence, delusion.

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : He's in way over his head.

═══════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

The shadows of cars passing by his window infuriated him. The sound of McKay's breathing on the ground below him set his teeth on edge. The thought of you getting felt up by some hot rich actor guy made him want to end it all.

"Chris."

A hum.

"McKay."

"Kill yourself, Jacobs.", he whined, turning away from the bed and burying his face in the pillow he'd laid for himself on the ground. Hangovers suck ass.

"I'm going to that fucking party, dude."

"What party?", he groaned, petulantly, eyes still squeezed shut, but he sat up to humour him.

"The one at The Golden."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"Y/N? For real, man?"

"We know each other. She'll let me in."

"Oh, after a thirty second interaction you're homies? Chill, man."

"You know Maddy's babysitting job? Well, they hosted some party. And Maddy met Y/N. And now they're, like tight."

"Nah, you're bullshittin'."

"We went to Y/N's birthday."

McKay scoffed, muttering 'cap' under his breath as he reached in the dark for his phone, looking up your name followed by 'birthday'.

Nate rolled his eyes, getting down onto the floor to scroll past all the meaningless rich twinks to find himself and Maddy. "There."

McKay's eyes widened and he laughed in shock. "No fucking way! You could've introduced me, FUCK. She wanted me bad, too."

"You think she wanted you?'

"Fuck yeah, man, you saw how she was look- CHRIST, man, you'd have been invited to our wedding. Our billion dollar wedding."

Nate laughed, smacking McKay's arm a little too hard for it to be joking. "Not if she's out there gettin' felt up by, like, Justin-what's-his-face."

"So you think I have a shot?" Whatever got this guy out of bed and up with him.

"Yeah, man. You might dick her down tonight, if we're fast enough."

McKay leaped up. "What's in it for you, though?", he questioned, as he put on a shirt.

"She's one of Maddy's girlfriends. If she gets roofied, Maddy's gonna kill me."

Lies rolled so easily off his tongue that he had to genuinely wonder when the lessons he learnt in elementary school had eroded away to the back of his conscience.

That seemed acceptable enough for McKay.

Good. Because now he was gonna have to deal with Ray, and he couldn't do that shit alone.

══════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ══════════════════

"Man, I don't even know how long it's been seein' you, dawg!"

What the fuck? What the FUCK? McKay and Ray were homies?

"Nate, man, this is my uncle, bro!"

OH. OH FUCK, YEAH!

The hug between the two lasted a little longer and then McKay turned to Ray again. "We can go in, yeah, Uncle Ray? C'mon. Y'ain't gonna ID us, are you?"

"Not you, son, but I can't let him in."

"Why not?"

"He's been banned from the club."

McKay frowned, licking his lips as he looked between Nate and Ray. Fuck. "Nah, nah, you're trippin', Uncle R. Ain't no way. He's, like, nobody, he's never even been here before."

A silent conversation happened between Ray and Nate, one spoken through their eyes, and then Ray huffed. "If anyone asks, you snuck in.", he said, unclasping the barrier so they could walk in. Clearly guilt was a useful blackmail tool.

Nate immediately found you. McKay was still searching.

"Hey, during the party, she spent a lot of time in the bathrooms with her girlfriends, man, maybe you should check there."

McKay shrugged, nodding. "Let me know if you find her here, though, alright?", he asked, patting him on the back before weaving through the crowd towards the bathrooms, aka, the opposite side of the club to where you were.

Was it a dick move? Yeah.

But did he give a shit? No.

He shouldered through the hordes of whores, trying to keep his eyes on you. And before long, he was standing in front of you.

"How the hell did you get in here?"

"Do you wanna fuck McKay?"

"Who the fuck's McKay?"

"McKay. Don't fuck with me, you know him."

"No, dude, who the fuck's McKay?"

"The guy with me in the car tonight, he's my homie, and I don't want him to get his heart broken!"

"Dude- he hasn't even asked me out yet! I'm not breaking his fuckin' heart! Chill, man! It's like you have a fucking vendetta against me, and I don't think that's righ--"

He didn't know why he thought kissing you would smooth your temper over. Okay, no, that was a lie. He knew. He definitely knew. He often used that trick with Maddy to calm her down, but he hadn't remembered that you weren't a girlfriend, and you were entirely well within your rights to-

Yup. You slapped him.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Sorry, Jesus, I'm sorry, I'm still a bit tipsy!"

"Who the fuck even let you in? And aren't you with Maddy?"

That he wanted to answer. "NO! No, I'm not! Because someone convinced her I was 'toxic' and 'abusive'!"

"What? Who?"

"YOU!"

"I didn't say that shit! I don't know half of your guys' story, dude!"

He paused. "Bullshit."

"You think Maddy tells me all that shit? I didn't even know you guys were together until my party!"

"So, you weren't out to break us up?"

You scoffed, sipping on your vodka spritz as you glared up at him. "For what purpose?"

"I dunno, you hated me."

"I didn't hate you. I was pissed at you. There's a difference."

His eyes darted around the room for a moment before they landed back on yours. "Sorry. I… sorry."

Ew, ew, ew. He hated saying that shit.

"What the fuck are you even doing back here? Shouldn't you be at home? 'S a school night!"

"I'm in some trouble!", he yelled over the sound of the bass dropping. "I got mugged!"

No, seriously. His elementary school teacher who diligently wrote 'honesty is the best policy' on the board every morning would have an aneurysm.

"You WHAT?!"

He turned out his pockets. "No wallet, no keys, no nothing!"

"Why'd you even come back out?! Did you call the police?"

"Yeah, my buddy McKay did! They're tracking my phone but I need somewhere to crash!"

"What about where I dropped you off? Maddy's?"

Those options would be good if he was actually in that situation. He decided to ignore them.

"Your place?" His alibi was not airtight, but he knew you were too pissed to actually put two and two together right now.

"My place is in New York!"

"What? Where was your party, then?!", he shouted, watching you sip your drink.

"That's my parents' place. Y'know, the one whose floor you covered in champagne and glass?"

"Sorry about that."

You ignored him, instead huffing and taking out your phone.

"Call Henry Donovan.", you instructed, and the sound of ringing emerged.

"Hey, what's up, gorgeous?"

"I'm at The Golden, but a friend needs help, so I gotta cancel, we should reschedule!"

"You got it."

The call ended and Nate's jaw dropped. "You're fucking Henry Donovan?"

"Shut up."

"You're not denying it."

"I'm not confirming it either."

"Schrodinger's dick, then."

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Nate lost sleep that entire night.

He almost lost his mind when he heard echoes of what sounded like plates sliding over each other. Sitting up, he squinted his eyes.

"Did I wake you?", you asked, looking up from your phone.

"No."

"You want pizza?"

Your hand gripped a wine bottle, of which, like, half had been drunk already.

Fuck. He had to be extra careful. He'd never seen you drunk, and he didn't know if you'd be more mellow or more volatile. With his luck, it was the latter.

"It's three in the morning.", he scoffed, removing the blanket before standing up to join you at the island - the fucking beautiful kitchen island - while rubbing his face. "Yes."

You slid the plate of pizza over to him.

"So, how come Mr. Donovan didn't spend the night giving you mediocre sex and LV gifts?"

You snickered, incredulously. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what?"

"What?", he asked, defensively.

"You've got some incredible stereotypes attributed to me, y'know that?"

"C'mon, you're denying it? Okay, listen, you're a total smokeshow, you know that, but the problem with that is that you get cocky about it."

"Do I?"

"Mhm. Like right now. You didn't deny the fact that you're a smokeshow. You're not even pretending to be humble."

"Should I have?"

He frowned, eyes dancing around the room for a second. "No. Would've been obvious."

Silence, a painful one.

"Dude, this is so weird.", you laughed, shaking your head and rubbing your hands over your face. "You're the last person I'd have ever let into my house." He opened his mouth to retort, so you quickly added, "For a second time."

"Okay, but… I mean." he began, swallowing before continuing, "Henry Donovan, really? Look at him, Jesus.'

"Exactly. Jesus."

Uh, no. That's not what you're supposed to be saying. "No, I mean, he's hot and all, but you were right. He's just a dick and abs. What else does he got?"

You frowned, plucking a tomato off and tossing it to the side of the pizza box. "What else do you got?"

"A personality, for one thing? Balls, for the other. Face it, the guy's a dork trapped in a frat boy body, blessed with Daddy's money and Mommy's estate."

"Why do you know so much about him?"

Why did he know so much about him? He wanted to say Maddy, that would make it better, but he knew that if he did, well, you'd definitely catch onto the lie. So he decided bending the truth would be better.

"I looked him up. For some research project for Econ, I had to go through his family's financial history." First part : true. Second part : false, but no regrets.

"Oh. What kinda weird ass Econ proj-"

He waved you off. "My teacher's a psycho. Uh, so, what movie are you shooting in Scotland?"

"We're trying to keep it under wraps, so I'm obligated to not tell you."

"That's no fun. C'mon, okay, wait, at least gimme a hint."

You licked your lips, narrowing your eyes for a moment before letting them dance around the room. "Your best friend, Mr. Donovan will be in it.'

Jesus Christ. He scoffed, leaning his forearms on the counter next to you. "And you thought that was a good investment? He can't act for shit."

"He did well in-"

"Those were all sappy romance movies where the character just had to be hot enough to impress lonely, middle aged women. But isn't this movie a serious one?"

You shrugged, popping open a coke as you sat up on the counter, looking down at him, "Yeah, but he's the popular thing this season. So he'll sell."

"What about the art, though?"

"The art?"

"You're directing this one, too, right? So, what about your artistic vision?"

You stayed silent for a while, and Nate decided that was the perfect opportunity to swoop in with the final blow. "His bad acting will fuck the entire thing up."

"You really think so?"

"This is his, what, third movie? And the first two were bought by Daddy's connections. He didn't exactly get in on his acting chops."

Yes, he was talking him down when he had never seen a single one of his movies, but no, he didn't even feel the slightest bit guilty about it, because honestly, FUCK HENRY DONOVAN.

"It's too late, though. There's no way I can just kick him off the project now."

"Then minimize his role."

The corners of your lips turned downwards. You were considering it. "Are you sure he's that shitty at acting? I mean, I've seen his movies, he isn't that-"

He nodded. "Totally."

You bit the inside of your cheek as you listened to him.

He decided moving closer wouldn't really hurt, yeah? So he did. And you glared at him so hard, he felt like it was the first time he'd ever seen you all over again. An angel staring at dirt under her gaze.

And he fucking loved it. He loved being nothing. Because him being nothing to you was so unnecessarily sexy to him, he almost got a semi because of it.

"What did you mean when you said The Golden wasn't my world?"

You frowned, looking down at him as he sat on the chair with his forearms just barely brushing the side of your knee. "You really need that one analyzed?"

"It doesn't make sense. I fit right in there."

"Nate, if you fit in, you'd have been let in, instead of having to sneak in."

"Okay, so I'm not, like, uber-rich. So what? Most people aren't. But I'm well off. My family owns half of East Highland. Past Kemper, all the apartments are mine."

"Mine owns half the city." As cold and badass of a line that might have been, it was evident to him that that was meant to be gentle, and lacking in conceit.

He sighed. "So if I had money, that would be fine? I could get into The Golden?"

"No. Y- no. It's not just money. Duncan Martin? The little stocky brunette? He's got no money, but it's… his family used to have money, so he-"

"You realize how fucking elitist you sound right now, right?"

You huffed, running your hands through your hair in frustration. "I know, trust me, but it's-"

"It's fucking discriminatory."

"Look! You can't just come to a club for celebrities and ask why they only let in celebrities! It's STUPID! Like, asking why a high school doesn't let in toddlers! It just doesn't make sense! High schoolers should be in high school, toddlers should be in preschool, celebrities should be in The Golden, and you-"

"Should be with the rest of the normie peasants. Right?"

"It's not- I'm not the enemy, Jacobs. Okay? It's just how it is. It's not an attack on you." That was the only thing you'd said the entire night that made even an iota of sense.

Okay. Acceptable.

A while later, he's back with the bullshit. "So. Henry Donovan. You're fucking?"

"What is your problem?"

"He's just not… I dunno. Doesn't seem your type."

You scoffed. "And how would you know my type?"

"I can tell.", he replied, holding your jaw and moving your head from side to side, laughing as you slapped his hand away. "I'm guessing you're not into gays."

"He's not gay!"

"Denial, Madam Celebrity, isn't just a river in Egypt, y'know?", he stated, in an accent he wished he could take back immediately.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and he tilted his head, looking up at you.

He moved even closer, shaking his head. "Trust me. I'm a guy. We've got a radar for this thing. Look, if you put me and him in a room, you'll see I have higher levels of both talent and heterosexuality in my little finger than he has in his whole twink body."

You snickered. "You're a dick."

"And he likes dick."

"Hey, I got kind of a gay vibe from you, too."

His smile dropped momentarily. "What?"

"I dunno, like, I thought you were, at the very least, like, bi. How would you like it if I said denial isn't a river in Egypt to that?"

"I'm not.'

You narrowed your eyes, and he almost scoffed. "I'm talented."

"And gay people aren't talented?"

"They are, but I'm talented in manly shit. Shit that requires testosterone."

"In what, football?"

"Yeah, you should come to our game."

'Hm?"

"This Saturday. Show up."

"I'll try."

He smiled, genuinely, and you almost felt guilty.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that the only reason you'd be there is because the fucking tabloid rumours hadn't actually been put to rest.

People thought you were dating, and you were, like, 100% sure you'd have to have pictures of you guys together just to get people to stop saying you fucked him and then had him beat up.

You had to fake date someone who didn't even know about it.

Which is why, later that night, you texted his ex, asking both permission and advice.

Because if anyone knows how to manipulate, it's Maddy Perez.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

It did not bode well for Nate's mental health that he saw you there in the stands the day he fucked up.

God wasn't real. The universe was fucking with him. And the worst part? McKay had come to watch, too , last game of the season and shit, and he was sitting next to you.

Maybe that's why he fucked up.

Sitting in your hoodie and stupid huge sunglasses. He could kiss you and hit you at the same time. You just had to show up when he fucked up?

"Hey, man, look, I think you did fine, you just gotta--"

"Oh, fuck off, McKay, seriously."

"Hey, no, he's right. I'm pretty sure what that ginger kid over there did was a foul."

No, it wasn't. Nate was just weak. "Yeah, probably."

"'Least you still won. There's an afterparty, right?", you asked.

Thankfully, though, the universe came through in the form of getting you absolutely shitfaced.

"Remind me why you and Maddy used to be friends again?", he asked, watching you adjust the stereo.

"Used to be? We're still-"

"Not anymore.", he muttered, before his hand grabbed your throat to pull you closer to him as he kissed you for the, what, third time in his life? - more than he ever thought would be possible.

For some reason, though, you didn't immediately hit him over the head with the pizza box or knee him in the crotch.

For some reason (alcohol, but Nate liked to think you could handle your liquor, at least for his own conscience), you kissed back.

Good. Fuck Maddy, Fuck McKay, and, honestly, fuck Nate from a month ago. All losers.

He was just about ready to unbutton your shirt, but something told him to wait. And thank fuck he did, because you pulled away almost instantaneously. "Shit."

"What? What?"

"We're so drunk."

We, you'd said. You, for some reason, had thought he was drinking with you. Alright. That's fine. You can think that.

"Agreed."

This was odd, to say the least. He'd never acted drunk before. He'd acted sober, yeah. But drunk was a whole weird thing.

But then again, you weren't exactly just another hookup. You were a celebrity. A star. He'd attained the unattainable.

Anything for you.

So he counted himself lucky to be able to lie next to you and intertwine his fingers with yours after the fact.

"You still going out with Henry?"

You nodded, watching him press kisses to your knuckles.

"You still going with him for the lead of your movie?"

"Mm? Yeah, I mean, it's short notice and he isn't that bad."

He snorted softly, his lips now at your wrist and moving up your forearm. "You've seen much better actors, admit it."

"Yeah, but I can't really--"

He tsked. "Come on. I'm not sure you should alter the role to fit the actor. It's supposed to be the other way around."

"Yeah, but Nate, I really think it's going to rub people the wrong way.", you muttered.

"Fine, cast him. See if I care."

You fell asleep on his arm and he almost kissed your forehead.

Almost.

════════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

Regret was the last thing he felt.

Who'd regret anything when in between the legs of an angel?

Of course, he couldn't expect the angel herself to understand this.

So, like a good little sycophant, he dodged everything you threw at him in the aftermath.

"You're a FUCKING predator!", you accused. He dodged the book. Okay, mildly, but-

"YOU FUCKING USED ME AS A REBOUND!" He dodged his wallet. No, but Maddy being pissed was a bonus.

"Get the fuck outta my sight, you-"

"Hey, hey, the sex was good and you know it."

"SO?! I WAS DRUNK AND YOU WERE NOT!"

"Okay, I'd say tipsy."

"You think you're getting off on a technicality?!"

He thought reminding you that he spent hours on his knees in front of you and hence, never actually 'got off' would result in him as a chalk outline.

"Look, there's something there."

You did something to him when you scoffed again this time.

Because he was suddenly under your dirt gaze again, but instead of Ray, it was you beating him up and looking down at him, you being the reason his insides were churning, you wanting him so badly, inside and out, that you couldn't help but spill his blood, just to sneak a glimpse.

You wanted him just as bad. And he could finally tell. You were mad because you liked it.

"Between us?", you asked, snorting as if you didn't feel it, too. He almost grinned at your denial. Cute. "We fucked once, and I was drunk!"

"And instead of drunkenly calling me names, you fucked me."

"Oh, my god, get out, you delusional… fuckass!"

"This is McKay's house."

You scoffed, snatching your clothes from his bedside and stepping over all the passed out kids outside his room.

Huh. Huh. He'd just fucked you. The celebrity.

He'd won the fucking bet.

But still. You'd be back.

They always came back.

═══════════════════ ⋆⋅🥂⋅⋆ ═══════════════════

You almost laughed as you slammed your car door. Please. Like he was anything more than a deluded dick your friend had dated.

In fact, it was Maddy who told you to try to get the rumours to rest.

"He doesn't give a shit about anyone, why should you care? At least save your career. Come to the game. I'll get press there, too."

And then the press came as far as they were allowed outside his house party.

To his window.

To your back as he kissed you against it.

To your departure the next morning, face filled with rage so that they could capture it.

And 100%, he'd be named the bad guy because the world loved you.

Of course they did, you've never done anything wrong. Ever.

Except this.

But it was his fault.

You'd warned him.

The Golden isn't his world, and you try to overstep your bounds, this is what happens.

You get burned.

[buckydeservesthebest]

I understand the divided opinions about Bucky running as the Brooklyn congressman. And well, beyond this being arguably out of character for him. In my humble opinion, I think this is not thaaat different from what happened with Matt in DD:BA, where he decided to leave the mantle of Daredevil and pursue "other ways to help" full on as a lawyer. But he eventually realized that the world did need his alterego, and that his presence could make a difference in many people's lives.

The difference is that Bucky is a hero who has *never* really wanted to fight, but has constantly expressed his desire to live in peace. Still, and despite everything, seeking the greater good is something he has always fought for. So in reality, it's not so out of line for him to decide to be part of Congress, for as his official information says, this is another way in which he truly believes he can bring about good, WITHOUT having to be part of the battlefield...

Notice how the info says "Bucky will be forced to jump into action". FORCED. Marvel may be an unfair victim-blamer and ableist son of a bitch to him, but at least they maintain consistency in his characterization as a semi-pacifist who has NEVER enjoyed having to fight, but prefers a peaceful life.

Seb made a reference to Bucky's peaceful nature in an interview for Empire Magazine "every time I try to get out, they pull me back in". I think this sums up Bucky perfectly, as every time he experiences a bit of peace, for one reason or another he always ends up getting pulled into the fight and forced to intervene.

So in conclusion, while being a congressman may seem like a strange choice, it fulfills the two goals Bucky has always sought: to fight for good AND to live in (relative) peace...

ALSO, I'm very happy that Bucky is finally back in a leadership role since 1943. He's the one who's going to rally a team to fight the Sentry threat. He's the one who has the will to stand up and fight. It is he who will inspire the other TBs to be better and become heroes. It is thanks to Bucky that the world once again has a group of heroes to protect them... 🥹🥹

[gioia-writes-and-others]

Out of Context Line Tag

Thank you @aalinaaaaaa

****

Wip TSA / The scarred angel

DRAFT ZERO - chp 11 - "THE BOOGEYMAN"

.......

Shortly after they had hit the road Amy had made the request….actually no, sounded more like an order, for Ashley to stop and leave her the wheel.

"I drank less than you" had been the lame excuse to which Ashley had arched a brow but then decided to let it pass, stretching like a cat on the passenger seat instead .

.......

TAGS (np) + 🍸 🍹 🍷 🍹

@the-golden-comet @willtheweaver @wyked-original-writing @tragedycoded @lychhiker-writes + OPEN

Out of Context Line Tag

Thank you @thepeculiarbird for the tag!

—

Aster grimaced. "Potentially. The place was nothing like I'd ever seen before, it seemed as if the houses and the temple were not made for us humans. The skeleton could explain a lot of it."

—

Sending tags to @ruvastuon @eccaiia @gioia-writes-and-others @anyablackwood @cljordan-imperium @space-writes @tildeathiwillwrite and open tag as always :D

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

stans when aang and steven don’t kill the genocidal war criminals they’re fighting against: omg they’re so incompetent! these shows are telling us to side with the villains!! i hate these literal kids who made the best choice they could make under difficult circumstances 😡🤢

stans when adora not only spares a genocidal war criminal but also starts dating them: love wins! spop is such a beautiful story of acceptance and forgiveness. everyone deserves a second chance, even someone who willingly tried to end all space and time <3

[tagarilaghost]

Any thoughts to Dusknoir getting "advice" from Darkrai in the future (while hunting Grovyle & Hero)?