#more ass shots on facebook

[punkshort]

Hard to Handle

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader one-shot

Summary: One year after Joel cheats on you and gets someone else pregnant, you run into him for the first time.

Warnings: pre-outbreak au, angst, language, infidelity, female rage, alcohol consumption, open/ hopeful ending but reader and Joel do not end up together

WC: 2.5K

Written for @tightjeansjavi's June writing challenge

"Guess who Neil saw at the pediatrician?"

You cracked open one eye and bringing your hand up to shield you from the sun, squinted over at your best friend, Kate. "Who?"

She grinned and sat up in her lounge chair. "Joel."

You made a face and closed your eyes again. "Don't care."

"He was all alone, Nate said. Looked like he was struggling to keep the baby quiet in the waiting room and he also said he looked tired as shit."

"Good."

"C'mon, aren't you the least bit curious?"

You made an exasperated noise and sat up in your chair to face her. "What's the point? He made his bed, he can lie in it."

Kate sighed and pulled out her phone. "Well, I was curious so I looked him up on Facebook and guess what?"

"I don't-"

"The bitch left him!" she exclaimed, showing you Joel's Facebook profile where it clearly stated his relationship status was single and the profile picture was an old one from high school. You snorted and shook your head.

"It's been almost a year, what do you want me to say?"

"I want you to feel happy that he's fucking miserable, that's what," Kate said, picking up the baby monitor at her feet and zooming in on the screen, checking to make sure her six month old was still asleep.

"Okay, fine. I'm happy he's fucking miserable," you replied before taking sip of your lemonade. "It's not fair to the baby, though."

"Oh, of course not," Kate said immediately, "but after what he did to you, you can't deny that this is karma kicking his ass."

You shrugged and looked down at your hands, picking at something imaginary underneath your nail. It had been almost a year since you left Joel. A full year when you found out, after being together since junior year in high school, that Joel had cheated on you and gotten someone else pregnant.

Well, found out probably isn't the right term. He flat out confessed one morning.

You had woken up and reached out for him, your hand running up and down his bare chest. You inched forward and buried your nose against his side, breathing in deep his natural, masculine scent before slowly dragging your hand underneath the covers to the waistband of his boxers. You didn't even realize he was awake yet until his hand suddenly shot out and stopped you.

"What's wrong?" you asked, sleep still permeating your voice.

"Nothin'."

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. He was wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

"Joel?"

He slowly turned his head to look at you and at the same time, one single tear slid from the corner of his eye. You scrambled up into a sitting position, panic singing in your veins.

"What's wrong?" you asked again, harsher this time. He swallowed and slowly sat up.

"I gotta tell you somethin'."

Your pulse began to race as all the possibilities ran through your mind, but what he said next was never what you had expected to hear.

"I slept with someone else and... she's pregnant."

You remembered in that moment it had felt like time stood still. The birds stopped chirping, the lawn mowers stopping running, the laughter outside your window ceased because the world as you knew it just ended.

After that, your memory was a little hazy.

You were sure you said some terrible things as you packed up all your belongings in a rage. The terms motherfucking piece of shit and fucking loser were tossed around more than once. You do remember preemptively accusing him of giving you an STD because he chased around whores and as you were walking out the door, you told him he would be a terrible father because he was still acting like a child himself.

Joel didn't say a single thing back. He stood there the entire time and took it, each word landing like a blow across the jaw. You weren't sure what pissed you off more: the fact that he didn't say anything or that he didn't even try to make you stay.

After you had a few weeks to reflect on it, you came to the conclusion that he must have been looking for a reason to break up and he was too chickenshit to do it himself, so he found a way to make you do it.

You blocked him on everything you could think of and pushed him from your mind. His name was banned in every conversation you had with your friends and family and as time went on, you managed to heal. You found a cute little apartment in downtown Austin and began hanging out more with your friends. You even went on a few dates with a couple different guys but nothing ever managed to stick, and you were fine with that. You actually preferred it. Being single was something you weren't familiar with and now, in your mid twenties, you were actually having a really fun time getting to know yourself again.

After so much time had passed, you really thought you were over it. Even after Kate shared that news with you, you still barely had a reaction. You were proud of yourself and feeling good. Joel was the furthest thing from your mind when you met some friends out for drinks that Friday night after work. The bar was crowded, but that wasn't unusual. It was one of the most popular spots downtown and your friend, Shannon, got there before the rest of you and managed to grab a small table.

"Are you still seeing that guy? The one with the cats?" Mel asked Shannon, and she shook her head.

"Ghosted me," she replied, making a sour face. You both pouted in return and you rubbed her back.

"Fuck him. There's plenty of other guys out there. Hell, there's plenty of guys right fucking here," you giggled and gestured behind her towards the packed bar. You noticed one guy in particular with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes glancing her way every few minutes and you nudged her foot under the table and jutted your chin in his direction. "Exhibit A."

She looked over her shoulder and smiled shyly before looking back at the two of you.

"I don't know..." she said hesitantly, then bit her lip and looked at him again. This time, the guy winked at her and she blushed.

"Come on, he's cute. Go dance with him," Mel urged, then Shannon grinned and snatched her purse.

"What the hell, can't hurt."

You both giggled as you watched her weave her way through the crowd towards her mystery man. Mel tossed back the rest of her drink with a wince before speaking again.

"Your turn."

You shook your head.

"Nah, I just wanna have a few drinks and go home, I'm not looking for another headache other than the one this vodka's gonna give me in the morning."

Mel opened her mouth to reply but then her eyes flicked to something over your shoulder. "Incoming," was all she said. You rolled your eyes and braced yourself for a shitty one-liner, but you turned out to be very wrong.

"Evenin', ladies," came a very familiar drawl from behind you. Your shoulders immediately stiffened and you slowly looked up. Sure enough, there he was. Joel.

It was Tommy who had greeted you. Joel still had yet to say anything as you glared at him. You met Mel after your breakup with Joel, and while you had told her about it, she never saw what he looked like so she was completely oblivious to what was happening. She had introduced herself to Tommy and was giggling at something he said while you were mentally planning your escape route.

"Lemme buy you a drink," Tommy offered, reaching out a hand. Mel eagerly took it and glanced back at you, frowning a little when she noticed your icy demeanor.

You ok? she mouthed, and you just nodded. She grinned and followed Tommy to the bar, leaving just the two of you.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. You shrugged and grabbed your purse.

"It's all yours, I was just heading out."

"C'mon, don't be like that," he said. You swiveled around angrily and he held out a refill of your favorite mixed drink as a shitty peace offering. Kate was right. He had bags under his eyes and he looked run down.

"You hand me that drink and I'm dumping it over your fucking head," you snarled. He sighed and set it down on the table.

"I tried callin' but it never goes through."

"Because I blocked you, asshole."

"Yeah, I figured that out," he replied, sounding annoyed now. "Can you please just sit down?" he pleaded, pulling your chair out, but you shook your head and took a step back.

"No, Joel. I don't have anything else to say to you," you told him, then before you caused a scene you turned on your heel and began to push your way to the door, ignoring him calling your name over the music.

When you got outside, you took a deep breath, the cool night air mixing with cigarette smoke from a few bar patrons nearby. You didn't live too far away, so you decided to walk home and text your friends on the way so they knew you were safe. It was about two blocks away from the bar when Joel caught up with you and the idea of him finding out where you lived made you irrationally angry.

His fingers reached out and brushed against your elbow, trying to get you to slow down. You yanked your arm away and skid to a stop. "Don't fucking touch me, Joel."

"I'm sorry, please," he tried, but you shook your head.

"Sorry for what? For ruining my night out with my friends or throwing away seven years together and knocking up some slut?" Your nostrils flared as you glared at him angrily and a few people walking by turned in your direction then murmured amongst themselves when they were out of earshot. Joel glanced around nervously and raked his fingers through his hair.

"Can we please talk? I-I wanna apologize, I wanna make things right-"

"It's too late, Joel," you huffed and crossed your arms.

"Goddamnit, why you always gotta be so fuckin' stubborn?" he groaned, "this is why it wasn't workin', by the way. This is exactly fuckin' why."

"So your answer was to cheat on me? Real fucking classy," you snapped.

"I was fuckin' drunk!" he almost yelled, making you jump. "'Sides, from the sound of it you're havin' the time of your life bein' single. Makin' up for all those years you were stuck with me?"

"Fuck you!" you seethed, pointing your finger in his face. "You fucking asshole! Who the hell do you think you are? And why are you keeping tabs on me, anyway? What I do isn't your goddamn business anymore, so leave me alone!"

He buried his face in his palms and rubbed his eyes aggressively before taking a deep breath and trying again.

"I know, I know. And I'm sorry."

"What are you even doing out at a bar this late, anyway? Shouldn't you be home with your kid?" you said, leaving out the part about him being a single dad now, refusing to give him the satisfaction that you already knew.

"My mom's watchin' Sarah, wanted to give me a break," he mumbled. For some reason, hearing his baby's name made you freeze. Sarah, Sarah, Sarah. "It's just us now," he continued, and you swallowed tightly, finally letting him speak. "She left us a few weeks after Sarah was born. Said she couldn't handle it. I told her it sounded like that post-partum... whatever it's called," he continued, taking a step back so he could rest his tired body against the building behind him. "But she just got more and more distant and one mornin' I woke up to Sarah screamin' her head off in the crib and a note on her dresser."

You clenched your jaw, biting back the instinct to express your sympathy. Even through all your rage you couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. You could see it in his eyes. They weren't bright and playful like they used to be. The past year aged him.

"I made a mistake but I ain't gonna abandon my kid. Don't get how anyone could," he said softly, "she's just so small 'n helpless 'n I'm all she's got."

You took a deep breath and averted your gaze, staring up the street at nothing in particular. Even if you felt bad for him, that didn't change what he did to you: a betrayal worse than anything you had ever experienced. When you opened your mouth to tell him that, he spoke first.

"I still love you."

Your shoulders sagged and you closed your eyes.

"How stupid do you think I am?" you asked quietly. His tired eyes roamed over your face helplessly. "Your baby mama left you and now you're feeling overwhelmed so you thought you'd try crawling back?"

"That's not what this is," he insisted. "I didn't know I'd see you here tonight but now that I have, I couldn't let you leave without tellin' you I've thought about you every single fuckin' day since you left. Even the day Sarah was born, I was starin' down at her wishin' you were her mama instead." His eyes began to glisten, filling with unshed tears as he poured his heart out to you on the sidewalk. "I fucked up, baby. But if-"

"Don't call me that."

He ignored you and kept talking. "But if you gimme one more chance I promise I'll make it up to you." He gazed at you, blinking back his tears while trying to read your expression. "We got so much history together, there's gotta be something left. Somethin' worth fightin' for."

You tilted your head to the side and shook your head sadly.

"Sorry, Joel," you replied, watching as his face fell. "You made your choices, now you gotta live with them."

You turned and began to walk in the direction of your apartment, proud that you stood your ground but still feeling a pit in your stomach as you left. He wasn't wrong. You had a lot of history together and the hardest thing you ever had to do was walk away from him, but you knew in the end, you had to put yourself first.

Before he was out of earshot, you turned back around, spotting him standing in the same spot against the building staring down at his feet.

"Hey," you called out, and he quicky looked up.

"Good luck. To both you and Sarah. I mean it," you said sincerely. "You're doing the right thing, Joel."

He slowly nodded and you turned back around. Pulling out your phone, you saw a missed text from Mel asking where you were.

I'm gonna be okay, but I'm going home.

[voxmortuus]

Hi baby. Saw the prompt list. 😎 May I have #5 ☆ { calling } them late at night to come over for Jax Teller, please?

Thank you. ♥

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Jax Teller x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ Sons of Anarchy ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 1.1k ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Smut | Jax and his filthy mouth (language) | Foreplay | P-i-V | Pull-out Method | More fluff | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ Sorry if this is total ass... but I hope this brings you some joy. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ This was found through Google and is not my GIF, if this is your GIF or know whose it is, please inbox me, so I can credit the creator. Thank you! ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

It was just one of those nights, there's only so much scrolling you can do before things become repetitive, and boring in your feeds. Flipping between Tumblr, Reddit, and Facebook, things were becoming boring, and nothing was helping you fall asleep. Tapping the side of your phone, you flip through old photos, smiling now and again looking over Jax's face. Sitting up in bed, you check the time, 12:24 a.m. Sighing, you decide to give it a shot, chances are Jax was up anyway, so why not.

Scrolling down and finding his name, you hit the call button, and wait. Ringing you groan, maybe he was --

"Hey, Darlin'. You alright? What's up?" he asks, you can tell there's a smile on his face.

"Hey, Baby. I know it's kinda late, but would you mind coming over... I can't sleep... and I could use the company." you bite your lip a bit.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be over in 15." he stated.

After the brief conversation and a quick I love you and a hangup, you go unlock your door, knowing he'll lock it when he gets here.

Hearing the motorcycle approach, and the engine turn off, you feel this bubble of excitement pulse through you. It was a matter of time before you heard your front door open, close, lock, and the sound of boots headed your way.

Peeking his head in, he looks over you, and you smile, moving over you pat the empty space in your bed and gesture for him to join you. Taking the hint, he makes his way over, slipping off his vest and coat, tossing his hat on the table, and kicking off his boots and socks, he slips into bed.

"Your pants... your shirt... are in the way." you smirk.

He chuckles and standing back up he takes them off, dropping them to the floor before climbing back in under the covers. You scoot yourself closer, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close.

"Can't sleep?" he asked you.

Nodding, your fingers move over his chest as you look up at him and smile. "Thank you for coming over."

"It's nothin' Darlin'. I've always told you I'm a call away." he kisses the top of your head.

A soft smile graces your lips as you scoot a little closer to him and let out a small satisfied smile. But you seem you can't keep your hands from wandering on him. Slipping under the blanket, you keep your gaze on him as you move over his boxers. Smiling, you bite at your lip and kiss him sweetly.

A slight chuckle escapes his lips as he pulls you closer to him, his hand roaming your figure as he moves you to lay on top of him, holding you close, his hips move upward a bit, kissing you deeply, and he slips the shirt from your body and tosses it to the floor along with his clothes.

Pressing yourself against him, your hands move up along his sides and find your way to get tangled in that love head of golden locks. The kissing gets a little heavier between you two, the touching, how you press your hips against him, feeling him harden against you. You move your hand between your legs as you grip him through his boxers. He groans against your lips as he grips your breast, pulling you closer, and kissing you deeper.

The kissing, the touching, the grunts, and the groans were enough to send you into a feral mind. Moving his boxers down, you slip him right between your lips, your hips press yourself down, pressing him deeper inside you. You both end up groaning in unison.

His grip on your hips is tight, his fingers pressing hard against your flesh, indenting as he thrusts upward just enough to finish that last little bit you wanted to slip inside you. The streetlights are the only thing illuminating the room, your shadow cast on the walls. Looking over, he watches your shadow as you brace yourself against his chest and begin to move up and down on his cock.

Holding your thighs in his hands, he watches the way you move against him, your hands pressing into his chest as he moves his own up your body, feeling your flesh under his hands was a sort of high for him. He presses a hand against your chest, between your breasts, as he slowly guides your motions as he thrusts upward.

As you are being guided with a hand on your chest, one on your hip, and his cock between your legs, your head falls back as you let out a loud, long, drawn-out moan. Your body trembles as you pick up on the sounds, the smells, the way the air tastes. Listening to him grunt and your own moans fill the air. It's all palpable. Erotic. Addicting.

The way you both work against and with each other, it sends these shockwaves through both of you, a genuine quickie, you feel yourself building, but of course, it doesn't help with his own buildup, you can tell in his tone, in how frequent his groans become, in how his breath smells. Leaning forward, you moan against his lips. And that's when he tells you to finish with him. He lifts you up, and you grip his cock as he works your bud.

Before you know it, your whole body trembles, feeling those hot ribbons of white pour against you. Whimpering and trembling against him, you begin to pant. Achieving your desired goal, he leans against the pillow but grabs something to clean you up.

There was hardly anything spoken between you two. But you lay there, holding him close, you look up at him as he stares down at you.

"You feel good." you chuckle.

"What even was that?" he chuckles.

"I think it's called a quickie. You should be used to those." you poke.

"Ohh, is that what that was? I like those... but next time... we do a longie... not a quickie," he smirks.

"I'll play with your longie." you chuckle.

"No, Darlin', we call it a cock, longie.... please no." he chuckles. "Besides, I like the way the word cock escapes your lips." he smirked.

"You like your cock between my lips Jax..." you joust.

Gasping he chuckles. "That is true... gotta say, you're a good cocksucker." he winks.

The night continued into the morning, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. His arms wrapped around you, his face in your hair, and you clung to him like your entire life depended on it. You were glad you called him over, much needed, and the sleep was much better with him there.

[here-comes-the-moose]

More Of My Random Bad Batch Headcanons (Modern AU)

Echo is the absolute KING of finding good shit for good prices on eBay, Facebook Marketplace, or Poshmark. He’s found Omega American Girl dolls in basically new condition for super cheap.

Batcher sleeps in Crosshair’s bed with him.

Hunter decided to let them keep Batcher because he realized he hadn’t seen Crosshair smile like he does when she’s around in a very long time.

Crosshair has some degree of anxiety and is an intense perfectionist.

On that note, he has an extremely nervous stomach. He’s just like me fr

Omega likes to bake and usually does so with Echo and Wrecker not only to bond with them but because they’re both good at it and eager to teach her.

Wrecker cries at movies.

Crosshair also cries at movies but pretends he doesn’t.

Echo has an INSANE network of mom friends. His siblings don’t know the full extent of his network, but what they do know is they can’t go anywhere without bumping into at least one mom who knows Echo.

Crosshair and Tech live in constant fear of Echo dragging them along with him to run errands for this reason. They don’t want to socialize with Sharon for three hours in the sensory hell that is a crowded suburban Target on a Saturday they just want to grab their Oreos and go home.

Hunter has a tendency to baby Crosshair if he isn’t feeling well.

Crosshair pretends to hate it but secretly he loves it because it makes him feel loved and cared for.

Omega seeks out all five of her brothers for bedtime stories depending on what she’s feeling that day. She feels like they are all good storytellers in their own ways but for different types of stories.

Their front lawn is the envy of every dad in the neighborhood courtesy of Hunter.

Speaking of Hunter, all the single moms and college-aged daughters home from school in the neighborhood “just so happen” to be in the area when he’s doing work on the lawn. Especially if it’s in the middle of summer so he’s all glistening… (I’m going to stop right here before it turns into a romance novel scene).

Omega hates this and finds it cringe.

Wrecker and Crosshair go more crazy over Echo buying Capri Suns than Omega does.

Crosshair collects shot glasses from wherever they travel to. Wrecker collects snow globes.

All the neighborhood dads go CRAZY (and also get lowkey jealous) when Wrecker shows up to the neighborhood cookout because he is an absolute MASTER on the grill. He’s telling them about all the meats he’s smoked and they’re SHAKING with excitement.

Their elderly neighbors who knew 99 and remembers when they were kids still refer to Echo and the original members of the Batch as “99’s boys”. They lowkey still view them as kids/teenage boys so will give them candy on Halloween even though they’re grown-ass men.

Their house is always very decorated for holidays since at least one of them is very intense about a specific holiday (Crosshair takes Halloween very seriously but pretends he’s just doing it for Omega).

[ofmdrecaps]

09/02-03/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Con O'Neill; Kristian Nairn; Nathan Foad; Leslie Jones; Lindsey Cantrell; Connor Barrett; Dominic Burgess; Sept 2: OFMD Marmalade Day; Trends; Articles; TellTaleTV Final Round; WWDITS 10th Anniversary Blurays; FanSpotlight: FanWeeks: OFMD Sequel Week; Stede Whump Week; Never Left Podcast; Love Notes;

== David Jenkins ==

David's out at the US Open with Kinga!

Source: David Jenkins' Instagram Stories

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys is EVERYWHERE this week, jeez. He really is causing a stir on every single platform, let me tell you. Below he's having a bit of a drink with some friends, out and about with Rosie!

Source: Facebook

Next up-- there's a new Indy Dramedy that just wrapped called "Song Of The Bigfoot" and Deadline has some new info on it!

Source: Rhys' Instagram Stories

Rhys is also looking to help raise some funds for the Kitten Rescue we all remember well from earlier this year! You can bid on this signed OFMD picture of the cast! To bid, visit here.

Source: Rhys' Twitter

Rhys also shared an older video of him discussing wanting to be Earths Ambassador!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 10,000 Dreams x Fraser Grut (@frasergrut)

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram

Annnnnd more shots are becoming available from the 100th episode of the Cryptid Factor, Live in London!

Source: The Cryptid Factor Instagram

And finally, Last But CERTAINLY not least, there's a new The Cryptid Factor special episode for the $10 / Tier on Patreon!

Source: The Cryptid Factor Patreon

== Taika Waititi ==

Some more shots of Taika while he was out and about! Also a recipe for the Pispili that he and Andy Hearnden shared on instagram a while back!

Source: Instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Andy Cooks (@andyhearnden)

and lastly a quick little tiktok of the Forever Young Rita & Taika!

Source: Rita Ora's Tiktok

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba's out at Nickelodeon studios doing some voice over work!

Source: Samba's Instagram

== Kristian Nairn / WJW ==

Surprise #WeeJohnWednesday! 9pm BST (4pm EST, 1pm PST) tomorrow-- Sept 4!

Source: Kristian's Twitter

A huge thank you to @adoptourcrew for getting us the Kristian Nairn OFMD blurb from the latest Popverse Article (it is behind a sign up, but here's the article!)

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Con O'Neill ==

Con taking a nap with Cooper now that he's back from Mexico <3 (and David Fane was a sweetheart and popped his head in as well).

Source: Con's Instagram

== Nathan Foad ==

Nathan back at the bedroom selfies again!

Source: Nathan's Instagram Stories

== Linds Cantrell ==

Linds Cantrell did an Ask Me Anything on Instagram today while she was waiting for a plane! She answered several questions, including something regarding OFMD BTS which may be completely out, but she'll be going to LA Comic Con in October! I'm planning on making a post with all her answers when I get a moment, but here's a few!

Source: Lindsey Cantrell's Instagram Stories

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie is out here rocking a workout, and looking bad ass <3

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Leslie Jones (@lesdogggg)

Source: Leslie Jones Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Our dear Jeffrey Fettering, Dominic, blessed us today with some kitties as well as a shot.. of well him getting a shot!

Source: Dominic's Twitter

== September 2, Marmalade Day ==

Several of our crew members continued the September festivities with Marmalade Day on Sept 2!

Source: HSavernake's Twitter

Source: Astroglide Twitter

== Articles ==

Thank you @adoptourcrew for sharing another article talking about OFMD!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== More Trends ==

Heyyy guess who was trending on Sept 2 on TUMBLR! (I believe it was because of the Sept 1 Dickfuck/Lighthouse day, but could be have been more! let me know if you know something else happened! Thank you to the badass @poison-into-positivity for catching it <3

Source: @poison-into-positivity's Tumblr

== Tell Tale TV Voting Reminders ==

Reminder! Stede and Ed are in the final round of Ship of the Year! Please visit TellTale TV! Thank you @ofmd-ann for the reminder dear!

Source: Ofmd-Ann's Tumblr

== What We Do In The Shadows Bluray ==

Okay so WWDITS is not OFMD but it has Rhys and Taika so gonna send a boost out of this! Thank you to the absolutely spectacular @ jimjim531969 over on twitter for always bringing the latest cool news regarding the cast. You truly are a gem <3

Also per Jim:

Links to pre-order the WWDITS 10th anniversary blu-ray:

Australia & NZ (16 October, 2024)

USA & Canada (November 1st, 2024): Amazon or Barnes & Noble

UK (01/11/2024)

Source: @ jimjim531969 on Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Upcoming Fan Weeks =

* OFMD Sequel Week *

There's a new Fan-Week been announced for Nov 17 - 23, OFMD Sequel Week! Check them out on Twitter and give them a follow to keep up with the latest news!

Source: OFMDSequelWeek Twitter

* Stede Whump Week *

Stede Whump Week will be happening 28 Oct - 3rd Nov, and the bingo cards for that week are now available on Twitter!

Source: Stede Whump Week Twitter

= Never Left Podcast =

There's a new episode of Never Left out, and it's Part 2 of the discussion on Birds! Wanna check it out? Visit their linktr.ee!

Source: Never Left Podcast Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. Hoping your week is progressing in an upward direction. I hopefully get to finally talk to my dad tomorrow after over a week of everything going on, so I'll be in and out of things again. I know everyone is dealing with their own level of craziness right now, and I want to remind you that you're doing great no matter what you're dealing with. It could be little, it could be huge, it could be life-changing, or could be making you regress further back than you'd like-- whatever it is, you are getting through the best way you can, and you never have to feel bad about that.

I know it can feel like there's never an end to the chaos-- but remember that there are pockets of joy and love there in this life too, and however you need to cope with your daily struggles, don't feel bad in taking solace in that. Enjoy the little things, no matter how small. Rest up lovelies, breathe in, breathe out, drink some water, and keep going. Below is a very appropriate love note (for me personally but for so many others as well), courtesy of the amazing The Latest Kate. Not everything is clear right now, but it'll get there, just stay with us, and don't give up. Sending you so much love, crew <3

Source: The Latest Kate's Tumblr

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Good Omens: Lockdown, Aziraphale’s SAD-ASS desk, and how they get to 'Our bookshop' in S2

Welcome to part 2 of me reading reeaally far into the Good Omens: Lockdown video! (part 1 from Crowley's POV here) This post assumes the item choices in the Lockdown visuals are intentional. What follows is going to be my headcanon regardless, but if you're into the Word of God, Lockdown is canon 'If you want it to be.' and I want it to be, sooo checkmate! >;D

Also this is something of a long boi (~13 minute read without following the links >.>), so if you're into unhinged analysis of details and literary references that indicate Aziraphale is in his longing era and want to learn more about author and fave-of-Gaiman, G.K. Chesterton, either get comfy or mark this to read later when you have time!

C: What? A: *somehow surprised even though HE CALLED* A-ah, hello. It's me! C: I know it's you, Aziraphale. A: *regaining composure* Yes, well, just calling to see how you were doing in lockdown.

The video starts with shots of Aziraphale and Crowley's da Vinci sketches (and some sushi remnants)... Babygirl is flipping through the time-goes-too-fast-for-me version of a facebook album, thinking about his crush. vERY chill of him. (also the paper looks new and he's eating on top of them, suggesting these are prints and he has multiple copies of them... sooo normal)

If we look closer at the still of Crowley's portrait, we can see part of the spine of a book that reads Kei- Chesterto-. This is, of course, author Gilbert Keith Chesterton, to whom Neil and Terry (and Crowley) dedicated Good Omens:

The authors would like to join the demon Crowley in dedicating this book to the memory of G. K. Chesterton A man who knew what was going on.

In this post by @azfellandco about Chesterton, you can see a photo of the dedication page and also read the book excerpt where Crowley describes Chesterton as 'the only poet in the twentieth century to even come close to the Truth'.

C: I'm bored. I'm so very very bored - transcendentally bored. There's nothing to do here!

As Crowley is explaining his nap contingency plan, we get a shot of Aziraphale picking up his mug of hot chocolate, then the image below of the 2/3rds gone bottle of Courvoisier cognac (i mean maybe he is baking with it let's not jump to conclusions), and then the stack of books beside a framed woodcut print of witches dancing with devils...

...that I used reverse image search to trace back to page 17 of a book from 1720 called The history of witches and wizards: giving a true account of all their tryals in England, Scotland, Swedeland, France, and New England; with their confession and condemnation.

Interestingly, the text above and below the picture reads:

At their Meeting they have usually Wine, or good Beer, Cakes, Meat, or the like; they Eat and Drink really: When they meet in their Bodies, Dance also, and have Musick...

Beside the framed print of Aziraphale's idea of a really great night out is a stack of books that includes (going from top to bottom):

Homer's The Iliad, Book 2

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton

Forbidden Rites: A Necromancer's Manual of the Fifteenth Century by Richard Kieckhefer

a book by Hilaire Belloc with no visible title

The Club of Queer Trades by G.K. Chesterton

The Iliad (according to sparknotes) has the following major themes:

....Interesting, ok. Book 2 in particular starts with a god (Zeus) messing with someone (Agamemnon) via a dream that says he will be successful in taking Troy if he launches a full assault, balls to the (city) wall. Agamemnon, who is supposed to be leading the Achaean army to conquer Troy, believes the dream but then in a weird twist decides to test his army and be like 'jk actually I'm giving up and going home' and then is mad when the soldiers are like 'sick, to the boats!' Then Odysseus, who sparknotes tells me is the most eloquent of the Achaeans, gives an impressive speech to inspire the troops and reminds them that they vowed 'that they would not abandon their struggle until the city fell.' ...No way that could worsen Aziraphale's internal conflict about being a bad Angel who thwarted the Great Plan. >.>; Orthodoxy we'll get to in a second.

Then there's Forbidden Rites which is a medieval necromancy guide translated from Latin with added commentary - Aziraphale is perhaps studying occult topics in an attempt to understand Crowley better? And then there's the Hilaire Belloc book on top of the second Chesterton book, a collection of related stories/episodes?, The Club of Queer Trades. The book's Wikipedia page says:

Each story in the collection is centered on a person who is making his living by some novel and extraordinary means. To gain admittance [to the Club of Queer Trades] one must have invented a unique means of earning a living and the subsequent trade being the main source of income.

Aziraphale and Crowley have rather novel/extraordinary jobs and they're both peculiar-queer and gay-queer. Neat. The narrator in the book is named Charlie "Cherub" Swinburne - also neat. >.> He goes on an adventure with his friend, a retired judge and president of the Club of Queer Trades, Basil Grant, (who Oct 2021 GoodReads reviewer Cecily said is "described as mad, mystical, and a poet, with almost no friends, but who “would talk to any one anywhere”) and Basil's younger brother, a private detective named Inspector Constable Rupert Grant. The last line of the book is:

Thus our epic ended where it had begun, like a true cycle. (something something "It starts, as it will end, with a garden.")

Anyway, the Belloc book and The Club of Queer Trades are placed back to back in such a way that they almost look like they could be one book with two different aesthetics, or... two halves of a pantomime beast?! (stay with me I needed a segue)

Belloc and Chesterton have what is essentially a ship name:

It was coined by George Bernard Shaw (if you are like me and didn't know why you've heard of him: he wrote, among other things, Pygmalion, which was adapted into My Fair Lady). Shaw apparently liked to gossip about Belloc and Chesterton with H.G. Wells (again if you're uncultured like me: he wrote, among other science fiction-y things, The War of the Worlds).

In the Feb 15, 1908 issue of The New Age newspaper, Shaw said:

He continued:

"Chesterton and Belloc are so unlike that they get frightfully into one another’s way. ... They are unlike in everything except the specific literary genius and delight in play-acting that is common to them, and that threw them into one another’s arms.”

Shaw says Belloc is 'a bit of a rowdy', and 'cannot bear isolation'. Hmm. Then he says Chesterton is 'friendly, easy-going, unaffected, gentle, magnanimous, and genuinely democratic'. HMM.

“They share one failing—almost the only specific trait they have in common except their literary talent. That failing is, I grieve to say, addiction to the pleasures of the table.”

Ok ok I think we can see where this is going.

(^ from Staged S3E6)

Now, someone did ask Neil Gaiman about this similarity, and he said the Lockdown video was filmed by Rob Wilkins in Terry Pratchett's library, and that he suspects 'Belloc is there because he was on Terry's shelves beside Chesterton.' And it MAY VERY WELL BE that NONE (0) of the book titles are meant in any way other than 'these are books from Sir Pratchett's library that looked nice on camera and ofc we wanted some Chesterton refs and maybe some demon-y stuff for Crowley' but that is WAY less fun so I am choosing to take them as intentional: these are books Aziraphale is actually reading (along with the sushi and many cakes he is actually eating). Let's put ourselves in Aziraphale's shoes and try to imagine how it would be to read this stuff during lockdown while you pine for a demon with slinky hips after you got in big trouble at work for Armageddoff (and work happens to have defined your worldview and general purpose in life).

C: welll... ngk then people might follow my bad example and get ill. Or even die—

As Crowley acknowledges that he ought to be out making peoples' lives worse, we see Orthodoxy by Chesterton open on the desk.

Orthodoxy is described as a ‘spiritual autobiography’ and is considered a classic of Christian apologetics, i.e. the religious discipline of defending religious doctrines (in this case, Catholic) through systematic argumentation and discourse. Wikipedia also says Chesterton's The Everlasting Man contributed to C.S. Lewis' conversion to Christianity, so overall it sounds like he must've been fairly convincing. (and so maybe reading it also poked at that work-related-but-religious-trauma-adjacent stuff Aziraphale has going on?)

You can read Orthodoxy (and probably any of the books I mention bc theyre all old) on project gutenberg but I will include this part of what is shown on the righthand page bc it just reminds me (and so probably Azirapalala as well) of a certain angel squeaking happily at a nebula:

"I felt economical about the stars as if they were sapphires (they are called so in Milton's Eden): I hoarded the hills. For the universe is a single jewel, and while it is a natural cant to talk of a jewel as peerless and priceless, of this jewel it is literally true. This cosmos is indeed without peer and without price: for there cannot be another one."

Ok great, so Aziraphale is diving into the works of one of Crowley's favorite authors bc he misses him, that's cute. What else? Oh he already wrote him a letter right before calling - THE WICK ON THE WAX STICK FOR THE SEAL IS STILL SMOKING. sO CASUAL asdashgfjds

something something 'either call on the phone and talk, or appear mysteriously; don't do both'

When Aziraphale gets to 'I've never had so few customers, not in two hundred years!' We get a close up of this glass of cognac with droplets still on the side — I take back what I said about baking, Aziraphale is drinking it~

He's not drinking a wine, eg Châteauneuf-du-pape, which would be ~14% alcohol by volume (ABV), or a sherry (15-20% ABV); he is drinking Courvoisier cognac, a hard liquor (40% ABV). Crowley's Talisker whisky is 48.5% while we are on the topic. This is stronger than what Aziraphale usually drinks which means... he could be a bit tipsy.

As Aziraphale starts talking about the would-be cash-box burglary, we get this wide shot of the desk:

In the top left hand corner, we see two stacks of books, most (all?) of which appear to be Chesterton when I zoom in. Some of them have Chesterton's name visible on them, others have the publisher name 'Darwen Finlayson' on them, which according to my googling is a house that published several of Chesterton's works. If Chesterton was truly 'a man who knew what was going on', then perhaps this is Aziraphale seeking not just to feel closer to Crowley, but also to make sense of the warring ideas in his mind. Interestingly, Chesterton has also been described as 'The Eccentric Prince of Paradox'.

C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth?

The screen then shows two occult-y books and a flickering candle (lower left image). Then Aziraphale explains about his cake~, and as Crowley cuts him off because he's about to nervously ask to come over bc he is so so lonely & down bad for a certain angelic bookworm, we see a map of Oxfordshire on top of Pilgrim's Progress (lower right image).

The two books beside the candle are Satanism and Witchcraft (presumably the 1862 book by Jules Michelet that comes up when I search the title), and another called Magic: An Occult Primer.

Satanism and Witchcraft is described on Wikipedia as 'notable for being one of the first sympathetic histories of witchcraft' and says 'Michelet was one of the first few people to attempt to show the sociological explanation of the Witch Trials.’ Sympathy for people who like to eat/drink/dance with demons, if you will?

Magic: An Occult Primer is a 1972 book by David Conway, a Welsh (CACHU HWCH!) magus and is described as 'a seminal work that brought magical training to the every-magician'. It also includes an appendix called The Occult Who's Who, which is somewhat reminiscent of Hastur's Furfur's book about angels. In Chapter 11: A Word About Demons, it says in regard to summoning them:

"Assuming that the form has turned up in the right place, it will soon begin to act and talk in a very friendly manner; do not forget, however, that its winning ways conceal a sinister intention-- namely, to get the adept out of the circle, and into its clutches.”

...okay?? Aziraphale's desk has a flickering candle on it throughout the video, and we get a close up of the flame when Crowley offers to slither over:

and just like that, Aziraphale has summoned a demon~~

Naturally, he freaks out:

A: *panicking*Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over.

But why? Isn't this what he wanted? Let's go back to the Pilgrim's Progress shot from right before the successful demon summoning and zoom in:

In a similar vein to Orthodoxy, Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan, is an allegorical Puritan conversion narrative. Christian is the main character / stand in for anyone who wants to be in the allegory and Hopeful is well, hopeful, from what I gather. A slightly larger continuous excerpt is here for the curious, but here are some bits I thought were especially interesting in the part of the book shown above:

Christian: Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind again? Hopeful: Many things; as, If I did but meet a good man in the streets; or, If I have heard any read in the Bible; or, If mine head did begin to ache; or, If I were told that some of my neighbors were sick; or, If I heard the bell toll for some that were dead; or, If I thought of dying myself; or, If I heard that sudden death happened to others; But especially when I thought of myself that I must quickly come to judgment.

Perhaps the pandemic is bringing Aziraphale's "sins" to mind again, on top of the whole choosing faces thing to avoid 'quickly coming to judgment'. And then:

Hopeful: I thought I must endeavor to mend my life; for else, thought I, I am sure to be lost forever. Christian: And did you endeavor to mend? Hopeful: Yes, and fled from not only my sins, but sinful company too, and betook me to religious duties, as praying, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my neighbors, etc.

UM??? While I can't say about the praying or weeping for sin, he has definitely been reading and the whole 'giving a good talking to' the burglars could be 'speaking truth to [the] neighbors'...?

Anyway to recap:

Aziraphale has been poring over books about dark magic and demons as well as a ton of books by an author that Crowley loves and who formed a partnership w a very different person in a sort of yin-yang, pantomime beast situation

He has been looking at pictures that remind him of their fun times w Leo in Florence and eating sushi and cake cake cake (and forgiving sinners) and drinking hot chocolate and cognac trying to fill a void but now he's tipsy so he wrote Crowley a letter, stamped it with a wax seal and then thought 'I should call her' BUT

His recent brush with attempted death penalties, the death toll of the pandemic, and some of the religious books he was reading have also filled him with guilt/fear over disobeying Heaven, who he knows could still be watching him and Crowley, so he feels much more conflicted than usual AND

He probably has some inkling that he wants to go ape shit on that ox rib if it comes over to hang out (lol editing to add bc i remembered ox rib discourse: ape shit in an emotional way! whether you hc them as ace or not I just think he really likes him and I’m using ox ribs as a stand in for general forbidden joy/love, not specifically sexy stuff)

So he has to say no.

Anything else might cause him to spontaneously discorporate into a plume of pining and cognitively dissonant gay smoke, which may be all well and good if you only think there's a God, but if you KNOW it and the angels are absolutely recording you and Heaven just tried to kill you and your wife colleague, it's... kind of a big deal.

C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

We don't get to hear Aziraphale's response, but besties you and I both know he is not feeling tickety-boo. He spent like a month putting off calling Crowley (UK lockdowns started end of March, the call is at the beginning of May), finally got drunk and said what the Hell, it'll just be a fun flirty chat in between his temptations, and then it turned out Crowley was depressed and not going anywhere and Aziraphale made him even sadder. And then it got worse because it wasn't all over in July, or in October, even.

I think Aziraphale ends up with a lot of time and brain space in which to think about how Orthodoxy and Pilgrim's Progress were only written to guide *mortals* and how it really wouldn't be so bad if he spent more time with Crowley, would it? Heaven hasn't reached out in actual years again, things feel safer. Crowley is essentially Good and spending time with him would be sort of ministering to the downtrodden and afflicted, and Aziraphale does miss reporting his good deeds (lol you know, whatever rationalizations you need to get you there).

More than anything, he thinks about how hollow everything feels without Crowley; how no mouthful of food or drink tastes as satisfying in his absence because it wasn't ever just about the 'gross matter'...

So when lockdowns end, Aziraphale begins to summon his demon again, but this time with much less inner struggling. It all comes so naturally, when you let it. By the beginning of Season 2 in 2023, they seem delightfully comfortable with their shared routines and places (see also this lovely post by @nightgoodomens). Our car. Our bookshop.

Aziraphale might take longer to catch up, but he does get there.

(SHHH DON'T THINK ABOUT EPISODE 6! STOP! I'M HANGING UP!)

“The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost.” ― G.K. Chesterton

[nyoomfruits]

ROMANCE AUS #7

Sorry for shouting. Please and thank you.

7. made out while in costume at a halloween party (lando's outfit for reference)

“This is ridiculous,” Lando hisses, uncomfortably pulling at the pink ruffly collar around his neck as he makes his way into the kitchen. It’s already fairly packed, mostly because Lando had tried to stall actually arriving at this party for as long as possible. “I look like a fucking idiot.”

“I think you look….” Alex appraises him, looking at Lando’s ‘sexy Princess Peach’ costume with a shit eating grin. “Well. Like a princess.” Lando glares at him and makes his way over to where the booze is set up, pouring himself a hefty shot of tequila and knocking it back immediately with a wince.  

“Really putting the peach in Princess Peach with those hotpants,” George agrees, entering the kitchen and patting Lando on the shoulder as he passes him on the way to the fridge. He’s dressed as some kind of Greek god, and Lando’s 99% sure he only picked it because it was an excuse not to wear a shirt.

“I hate both of you and I’m unfriending you on Facebook the second, I get home,” Lando grumbles, adjusting the stupid tiara on his head and pouring another shot of tequila.

Alex laughs. “A bet’s a bet, mate. And you lost.”

“Yeah, my fucking dignity,” Lando says, pulling at the back of the hot pants in the hopes it will at least cover some of his ass. He’s never making another bet with George and Alex again. “Anyway, at least I am wearing something original instead of, what,” he gestures at Alex’s outfit. “A cowboy?”

“Ken!” Alex says, completely unbothered, doing a little spin.

Lando snorts, rolls his eyes. “Right. And who’s your Barbie, then?”

Charles chooses that exact moment to swan into the kitchen in a bright pink cowboy suit complete with sparkly cowboy hat and white cowboy boots. “Lads! Are you ready to get wasted?!”

“Of course,” Lando says. “Why did I even ask?” And knocks back another shot of tequila.

--

It gets better, after a while. He’s starting to get considerably more drunk which makes him feel considerably more comfortable about looking like a very scarcely clad Princess Peach, and he’s starting to have actual fun.

So of course, that’s the exact moment George decides to ruin everything again. “Lads,” he says. “I have fantastic news. I have spotted… A Mario.”

Alex and Charles holler like George had just told them they’d won a million bucks each. Lando frowns. “So?” He asks, regretting it immediately when he’s suddenly faced with three absolutely shit eating grins. “Oh, fuck no,” he says, suddenly realizing what they’re hinting at. “Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Lando, you have to,” Charles says, putting on his big stupid pleading puppy dog eyes. Lando hates him. “It’s Mario,” he adds, like that somehow explains everything.

“Yeah, what is Mario without his Peach,” Alex agrees, not even trying to hide the smirk on his face.

“I am not making out with some random dude dressed up as Mario just because you guys seem to think that people in matching costumes need to make out!” Lando exclaims. “Actually, by that logic, why aren’t you two making out,” Lando says, gesturing between Charles and Alex.

Alex shrugs. “We already did.”

“When you were trying to create, what was it? ‘The world’s funkiest cocktail’ in the kitchen,” Charles adds.

“I can attest. I watched them do it, it was hot,” George says, and takes an obnoxious sip of ‘the world’s funkiest cocktail’ through his straw. “This is very funky by the way.”

“Thank you,” Lando says primly. “Still not making out with Mario.”

Alex gets a very dangerous mischievous gleam in his eyes. “I dare you,” he says, and George and Charles simultaneously let out a gasp that would’ve been very funny if Alex hadn’t just doomed Lando’s entire night.

“Oh fuck you,” he says, glaring, before knocking back the last of his own glass of ‘the world’s funkiest cocktail’ and slamming his cup down onto the bar. “All right, where is that fucker.”

“That’s no way to talk about your future husband.”

“Can it, George.”

Alex snorts. “He’s on the couch in the living room.”

“All right,” Lando says, shaking out his limbs like he’s going to run a fucking Marathon instead of make out with a guy that might not even want to make out with him. “Here goes nothing,” he says, before making his way back into the living room.

It’s pretty packed, but he finds the couch easily, ducking behind two girls dressed like Wednesday and Enid before coming to a standstill in front of the guy dressed as Mario. He even has one of those stupid stick on moustaches, though he’s ditched the gloves, the pair lying abandoned on the arm rest next to him.

Other than that he’s. Kind of cute. In a sort of boyish way. He has something weirdly familiar, though Lando can’t quite place it. “Hi,” he says, trying to stand in a way that accentuates his. Something. It must work regardless because the guy’s eyes snap to Lando and then widen ever so slightly, the light flush he had on his cheeks – probably from the heat – darkening considerably.

“Lando,” he blurts out, and Lando falters a little because huh. So he does know this guy. That’s a little. It’s probably not a great start to trying to woo him, not remembering who he is. The guy must notice Lando’s confusion because he adds. “Oscar? You’re in my econ 101 lecture.” His eyes dart away and then back again, lingering for a moment on Lando’s thighs, that are very prominently on display.

“Right!” Lando says, though he doesn’t specifically remember Oscar. “Monday 8am. My favorite class.”

Oscar laughs, a loud, sharp thing that sort of seems to startle out of him, folding his body ever so slightly forward as he does so. “Yeah, that one,” he says, and he seems a little tense now, his shoulder dropping ever so slightly.

“Where’s Luigi?” Lando asks, changing the topic before he has to reveal he still doesn’t technically remember Oscar, nudging Oscar’s cap with his hand, watching Oscar’s eyes widen when Lando leans in a little closer.

“Oh, uh. Fucked off,” Oscar says, blushing slightly. “He uh. There was this girl, so.”

“Ah,” Lando says, nodding. “Daisy.”

Oscar’s brows knit together in a decidedly cute way. “Daisy?”

“Yeah,” Lando says. “You know. Daisy, Luigi.” He gestures between them then, “Mario. Peach.”

“Right,” Oscar says, blushing impossibly more. “Right, yeah. Mario and Peach.”

“Exactly!” Lando says, and then, because he’s getting signals, and because Oscar has been trying very had not to stare at Lando’s. Everything. For the past five minutes, he sits down. In Oscar’s lap. “Peach and Mario,” he says, as Oscar flails a little and seems to have some kind of internal panic about where to put his hands.

Lando solves it by grabbing them and putting them on the flimsy little waist of his body suit. Oscar lets out a slow shuddering breath as he glances up at Lando with wide eyes, but leaves his hands on Lando’s waist, as Lando readjust himself, puts a knee on either side of Oscar’s thighs. “As I was saying,” he says. “Mario and Peach.” And then he takes Oscar’s face in his hands, takes off the stupid moustache, and kisses him full on the mouth.

Oscar makes a tiny little noise in surprise, fumbling a little as their teeth clack together, but then suddenly something in him seems to snap, and he kisses back. His hands are suddenly everywhere, from Lando’s waist to his back to his ass, squeezing down in a way that makes Lando moan into his mouth, an opportunity which Oscar uses to slide his tongue into Lando’s mouth, kissing him like a man starved.

Lando lets his hands slide from the sides of Oscar’s face into his hair, knocking the Mario hat off and tugging ever so slightly, eliciting a delicious little moaning noise from Oscar that he swallows eagerly. It goes on like that for a bit, each of them giving as good as they get, when Lando finally pulls away, breathing a little heavily.

Oscar looks equally debauched, breathing heavily, eyes wide and hair messy. He looks… He looks fucking hot, and Lando vows to pay more attention in econ 101, next time.

“Mamma Mia,” Oscar breathes out, in a terrible Itatlian accent, and there’s a little twitch to the corner of his mouth, even though his words are incredibly deadpan, and it startles a laugh out of Lando. Hot and funny. Yeah, Lando’s definitely going to start paying more attention.

But for now, he presses his lips back to Oscar’s, and sends a small little thank you to that bet he lost. Maybe he should start losing them more often, if it gets him this.

[mrs-monaghan]

omg all these ppl sharing tehir friends being tkkr/ynmnr remind me this bitch from my university dorm! you know we were dorm mates w this one girl. starting from fist day of semester I had this weird feeling about her (not related to her being a tkkr but her whole vibe was off) while talking about interests and hobbies we kinda realized we have similar tastes in certain things.

she told me that she’s into bts and we started talking about them. everything was fine until out of nowhere she told me that she believes that tkkr are a couple and I feel like she was trying to fish an answer out of me ykno about tkk dating. she was kinda trying to test me if that makes sense. after that I told her that I’m a hard core jm stan and that why I’m leaning more towards duos that include jm and I’m not kidding you shaz her whole demeanor changed and the look she gave me was just horrendous. and I didn’t even told her tkk couldn’t be real because jk and jm are literally dating but change was drastic!

after that she keep giving me cold feet and randomly showing “cute tkk art” which was humanloure or whatever that btchs name and when I told her to stop showing me weird things she became super defensive (I wasn’t try to be an asshole it was just getting weird the way she was trying to prove me tkkr is real by showing ugly ass fanarts ) when I told her about my discomfort she would say things like “but they are cute” “they look so good together” “anyways they are dating”

when she kept doing this I totally stopped talking to her and just ignored her ass that whole semester. we weren’t best friends or anything just dorm mates. i just wanted to share this because before all of this happened to me I just thought that there’s no way a irl tkkr would act the way they are acting in online spaces but those weirdos we saw on report pages are literally exist irl

Of course they do. I like to think online personalities are an extension of RL personalities. So of course this is how they are out there too!!

This is my Facebook cover photo, right?

A friend of mine from the Gallavich (shameless) fandom saw this and she was so excited! But at the time of seeing my cover photo she also noticed I kept sharing JK in my stories (dreamers had just dropped) and so she didn't know if I was gonna turn out to be vermin. So it took her months... months! To even DM me. She didn't do it until she saw me in the comment section of Jikook public group.

I asked her why she never told me sooner that she was Army and she told me that she didn't want to ruin our friendship. So it was better for her not to know. And you know what? That made sense to me. I was like, fair enough.

I mentioned before that my baby got attached to shot glass of tears, right? It was the only song that could get her to sleep. So one time I'm just pushing the pram around a shop and the cashier comes up to me like "is that JK?" And of course we started to gush. She told me that she was Taegi biased and immediately I went "are you a Taekooker?" You know, I didn't want to waste time. I needed to know quite early on. She told me she almost became one due to the edits on YouTube and that it was the reason she stepped away from the fandom. That's why she didn't even know about SGOT or GOLDEN. Coz she left when she saw she was starting to become one of them 😂

I commended her for it and currently we are friends. Her self awareness saved her basically 😂 So yes, anon. The way they are online is the way they are in person. That's why I always say a Vminkook concert wouldn't be the best idea 🤭🤭🤭

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

If You Got It, Haunt It

Curtis and Honey Halloween Special

Summary- 2.6k Curtis Everett x Plus!Sized Reader. You and Curtis are out for a night at Paulie's playing a game of pool with Claude and Grey. It all starts with one little Halloween pun and some purple nurples.

Warnings- Smut. This is an 18+ Only Blog.

A/N- Happy Halloween everyone! My personal favorite holiday and I had to drop something to celebrate. I hope everyone finds something good today among all the mayhem our world has going on. Thank you all for all the comments, likes and shares you give this series. The puns were from a reel I saw on facebook and if I ever come across it here, I will be sure to link it because it was so silly and cute.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

The pool balls clacked across the bars table while you stood nearby watching Curtis and Grey debate on where the balls would go. Claude stood at the other end, picking out pool cues for you and her. 

Money sat on the edge, waiting for the future winner to lay claim. The bar was festively decorated all around, the usual music that Paulie played was now tuned in with some more halloween themed songs. You were waiting for Monster Mash to start playing, already having told Paulie you were gonna need a tray of Purple Nurple shots to be delivered per your and Claude’s request. A little homage to Dean Winchester as well as shooting some purple colored shots. Tis the season after all. 

Curtis wandered over after it was all decided who was playing what ball, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close. You sunk into his touch, cuddling in against him. “Mh mh MH.” You started, looking up at him. “I didn’t know my favorite Halloween treat came in life size.” 

“Honey, I will be the monster you can mash.” Curtis immediately responded, a hand wandering to cup your ass, arching your hip to press against his while you hid your giggle in his chest. “You and Grey are stripes.” He rumbled, grumpy in the moment that Claude insisted on switching up the usual teams. “You over here looking all ‘come fuck me Curtis’ Pretty Girl is giving me some thoughts.” His nips on your mouth, tasting of his whiskey shots from earlier making you grin at the sensation, the warmth of his chest seeping through his hoodie and curling through you. You let your hands slide into the pouch at the front of his shirt, tugging Curtis in closer to you till he was wrapped all around you. “Babe, I must be a witch.” You let your nose rub against his before pulling back enough to see his expression, your grin wider with the upcoming joke you had for him. 

“Really? Why’s that, 'cause you put a spell on me?” Curtis played along, his grumpy expression from earlier still a trace on his features, but he was starting to lighten up a bit more while flirting with you. 

“I actually can raise your broomstick without even touching it.” You informed him, arching enough to press a kiss to his bristled cheek while he gave a huff of a laugh, you snorting in a giggle while he hugged you against him. 

“Fuck.” He grunted, talking only loud enough for you to hear so his mouth was close to your ear, the bristles of his cheek a welcome sensation as they brushed against your jawline. “You really do have that kind of magic woman.” 

Claude shouted over the table, making you and Curtis glance her way. “Curtis, remember you're on opposite teams. You can’t be over there flirting with the enemy.” She held up his pool cue. “And it’s your turn.” 

“Then you’re in for some fucking bad luck Claude, 'cause I have no will power against my girl.” Curtis let his hand run along the curve of your ass one more time before pulling away and taking the cue from her, looking around the table for the best shot while Grey appeared behind Claude, catching her in his arms and making her yelp in surprise, the two of them fooling around with one another while Curtis aimed for a shot.

You admired Curtis, so reminiscent of the first time you two played pool when bumping into each other. It was even the same table, the two of you talking and getting to know each other while Curtis taught you how to play. That moment felt like a lifetime ago now, so much having happened between you and Curtis to get to this carefree moment shared with friends. The sound of Claude whooping in victory while Grey groaned had you breaking from your thoughts, giving a shrug of your shoulder to the group as if you weren’t at all worried while you approached the table and prepared to take your turn. 

“Lucky shot Everett, now step aside.” Your hand pushed playfully against the wall of muscle that made up his chest, never really standing a chance at actually moving Curtis back a step but he purposely stumbled back like you did, giving you space to play. 

“Yes Pretty Girl.” He muttered, making Claude shoot him a ‘don’t you dare look’ and he smirked in response. You set yourself closer to the table, leaning into the move with a sharp hit of the follow through and as soon as your shot was done, you felt Curtis’s hands fall to your waist and while you eased up, you were able to lean into his chest, watching the balls scatter once more, not making any shots but helping line up some for Grey to take when his chance came. “Good shot Pretty Girl.” He watched over your shoulder calculating which ones Claude should take. 

“I'm happy with it.” You hummed out. “I sure as hell wasn’t going to be getting any at that time.” 

They watched Claude and Grey play, the two of them doing their own game of flirting. You and Curtis stayed off to the side, losing interest in the game at this point. 

“Pretty Girl, we should be werewolves for Halloween.” 

“Oh really?” You turned in his hold to face him, the two of you wandering further away from the pool table, the halloween music thumping louder and although you knew Curtis wasn’t much for dancing unless the two of you were at the house, you started swaying to the music playing. “Why is that?” 

His hands were flowing over your curves though, tracing you like he couldn't get enough of how you felt moving in his arms. “I bet we would have a howling good time together.” 

You busted into laughter at this one, making him laugh too. Purple People Eater started playing over the speakers and you tilted your head back to listen to the song. “Paulie! Purple Nurples!” You shouted out. Claude danced over to you, grabbing your hands and pulling you into her arms, the two of you bouncing in a childish dance. 

“Yeah, I got them!” He slid a tray across the counter towards Grey, who gathered up the bright purple shots to bring to the table you all had laid claim to earlier. Curtis took one and sniffed it, his nose wrinkling at the smell. 

“Damn that smells sweet.” He handed you yours while waiting for the go ahead to take it. 

“The grape jello, just be quick with it!” You tilted your head back and let it slide down your throat, Curtis doing the same. You reached over for two more, intent on finishing the tray before the song ended. “Hey Curtis, is it Halloween yet?” 

He took the shot, not as enthusiastic as you, but he was willing to stomach the shot once more for you. “Just a couple more days, Pretty Girl and then you can take out those fangs again.” His blue eyes raked over you suggestively, his gaze dark and wanting with his suggestion. 

“Good, Cause you can carve my pumpkins.” You grabbed his hands to lay them on your curvy ass cheeks, arching into his grasp as he squeezed his hands on you and gave a moan that bordered on getting turned on and exasperated at your last lame joke. A swift little swat to your ass made you wriggle against his hold all that much more. 

“How long have you been saving that one Pretty Girl?” 

“Since last week when I saw a tik tok video.” You admitted, tugging on his hoodie. The addition of the purple nurples made you warm and tingly all over in addition to the way you two had been throwing the suggestive touches and words all night. You must have been giving him a look cause the corner of his mouth lifted smirking, his mouth dropping to flush kisses along your jawline to your ear. “Backseat?” 

“You wanna?” 

“Pretty Girl…” His mouth pressed against the pulse point just behind your ear, eliciting a rushed breath as all those tingles and warmth blossomed in you, wanting, craving, needing more. “Always wanna.” His hand took yours, jerking his thumb over his shoulder when he turned to Grey and Claude in their own little world on the other side of the table, the pool game half played. “We’re stepping out for some air, meet back here in a bit?” 

Grey nodded, raising his hand in a thumbs up. “See you guys in a bit.” 

Claude, not quite caught up, raised a questioning brow in your direction but then when it clicked she mimicked Grey with a thumbs up. “Have fun!” 

Before you could respond, Curtis had you weaving across the bar. The two of you rushing into the cool October night. Maybe the purple nurples were giving you some tipsy confidence but you pushed him against the bar's brick wall, his back thudding and he looked down at you in surprise for half a second before cupping the back of your neck and pulling you up enough to kiss you hungrily. 

He tasted wild, a mix of alcohol and him, you ran your hands down his chest and grasped his belt to work the clasp off enough to push your hands into his jeans to rub at his cock through his boxers. Thick and throbbing already, he hissed against your lips while tilting his head back with a groan, his hold against the back of your neck falling to your waist, turning bruising in his lust. “Fuck Pretty Girl, don’t ever stop.” 

“Don’t plan on it Curtis.” You cupped your palm around his length, squeezing just enough to bring him pleasure but not as far as you knew he would want it. Teasing him was fun and you were enjoying the power he gave you over him. But it didn’t last long as he pushed you back enough to continue back to the car, digging for your car keys out of his back pocket since he drove you two here tonight. 

“Curtis… do you wanna play zombies?” You asked as you wrenched open the back door, falling back into the seat to pull yourself back, Curtis following inside to somehow get the door shut and hover over you. 

“What?!” He asked distractedly as you worked your shirt off and he was as well. But he managed to catch up and shook his head. “No? Yes? Why?” 

You giggled a bit, biting your lip as you snapped open the button of his jeans while looking up at him. “If you do then I will just lay here while you eat me.” 

“Oh god Honey.” He laughed hard, his shoulders shaking and his forehead coming to lean against yours, looking in your eyes. “That one was my favorite tonight.” His mouth pressed to yours and you both started grinding against one another. Curtis eventually dragged his mouth from yours so you could catch your breath while following the column of your neck to your collarbone, sucking a nice little mark there while you arched under him, offering yourself to him. He worked your pants open, starting to drag them off while continuing down your body. This time leaving little bite marks after your zombie comment. 

“Just like that.” You moaned while running your hands over his scalp and holding him to your chest after he tugged your bra up enough for your breasts to be free, your sensitive nipples aching pleasurably under his tongue, gasping happily when he dragged one into his mouth and pulled, making your legs wrap around his waist. “Curtis…” You arched again, your body feline rubbing against his now that you were practically bare under him, short of your pants hanging off one leg and your bra pushed up to be no longer practical on your chest. His hand braced against your back and he growled out. “Hold on Pretty Girl.” 

You grabbed onto his shoulders while he maneuvered you both, him in a seated position in the middle of the back seat and you straddling his lap, mouths still chasing after each other. Curtis worked his cock out from his boxers, running his hand up and down his length while you prepared to wriggle off his lap so you could go down on him. 

“Wat Honey…” He stopped you and tapped his hand against your ass. “Get up on your knees Pretty Girl.” You obliged, raising up and he ran a finger along the seam of your panties covering your cunt, sliding the slick fabric aside. “Did you know the human skeleton has 206 bones, Honey?” 

You watched him mesmerized, his hand sliding up and down slowly on his impressive cock, whimpering with want and need as you felt yourself dripping on his fingers slipping between your folds. “I did… but I could take another.” You squeaked as he teased your clit, ready to start practically begging when he let the tip feed into your entrance. 

“Good cause I plan on giving you another.” Curtis pressed you down onto him. You meant to laugh at this one, but instead it came out as a pleasured gasp, pressing your hands against his chest and grinding on him while adjusting to feeling him so deep inside. 

“Shit…” You hissed out. 

“Take your time, Pretty Girl.” He watched you with half hooded eyes, one hand resting against your waist and the other sliding up and down your folded thigh. “Fuck you are so beautiful just like this.” He praised, keeping still till you told him you were ready. But the way you were rubbing your clit against him and squeezing him, he just hoped you would be ready soon. 

“Mmhh so deep.” You let yourself raise up and back down, finally feeling confident in it. “Okay, I'm ready.” 

Letting Curtis go, he helped you ride him with constant praises, his hold helping you move up and down, rotating your hips which always felt so good your eyes would roll back, feeling every inch of Curtis pressed in you, full of him till you couldn't take anymore you were sure. 

You both sped up, Curtis snapping himself into you while you slammed yourself harder down, once in a while one of you would seek out each others mouths for messy grunting kisses but it all got to be to much and Curtis hugged around you to bury his face into your chest with a curse, both of you rushing for orgasm and it was a slamming pleasure that sucked the air out of your lungs. 

It wasn't till you collapsed against him that Curtis eased the two of you back, lounging in the back seat wrapped around each other comfortably. Your head laid on his chest and at some point Curtis did cover your back with one of your shirts to keep the outside chill slowly seeping into the car from making you cold. Your fingers traced his chest and went to fiddle with the chain. “How long have we been out here you think?” 

Curtis hummed lazily as if he couldn’t be bothered to consider that they were in your backseat in a parking lot. “No clue, you ready to go back inside?” 

“No, not really, I’m pretty comfy.” You said and the conversation went quiet for a moment. 

“Honey, I got one more for you.” Curtis broke the silence and you didn't bother to lift your head, also to comfy in the moment to bother. 

“Give it to me Curtis.” 

“I think I already did.” You glanced up to see the smirk of pride. “Okay, will you let a demigorgon in our bedroom?” 

“No.” You shifted in against him, sighing out a bit happily. “Why would I?” 

“Awww come on Honey, we have done stranger things.” Curtis dropped his punch line. Both of you were silent for half a second till you both broke into laughter. 

[dameronology]

the recent dd announcement got me feeling things for matt so can you please do number 10 from the love confession list ("please listen to me")?

i have been in love with matthew murdock for eight years now and it has still not wavered

It would be a lie to say that you and Matthew Murdock did not argue on the regular.

You were normally best friends, occasionally enemies but always lovers. But, you were both stubborn and stuck in your ways and when your ways were so different to his, it meant you butt heads at least three times a week. Sometimes it was menial things; what to have for dinner, whose turn it was to pay for lunch, which Star Wars movie was the best. Other times, it was deeper. Matt was overprotective by nature and it was only amplified with you. You knew who he was by night and what he did; in his mind, that put you in danger. Danger he tried so hard to protect you from.

It just didn't help that you sometimes put yourself in danger.

It was just gone 4AM at the Murdock apartment; everyone in the building was asleep, save for you and also for Matt, who had found you wandering around outside by yourself at this ungodly hour with a can of Pepsi in your hand and pepper-spray in the other. That went against basically every rule he had mentally set you and safe to say, it was not something he took lightly.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he demanded. "Do you know what kind of people are about at this time? Do you?"

"Dickheads in devil suits?" you shot back. "Because that's the only people that I saw-"

"- now is not the time to start running your mouth," Matt cut you off, his tone dangerous now. "What were you even doing out there?"

"I was bored and I couldn't sleep, so I figured I'd walk over here and see if you were awake because I saw you active on Facebook like an hour ago," you explained.

"You can't..." he trailed off, taking a deep breath. "You can't just be out like that at this time, okay? There are dangerous people out there, and they might want to hurt you-"

"- you're so self-absorbed," you huffed. "Have you ever thought that people might just want to hurt me completely devoid of my relation to you?"

Matt took a deep breath, hands on hips and a facial expression that wasn't far off of you can't be serious right now. He loved you to his very core - in more ways than one - but you constantly drove him up the wall. He'd never met a more frustrating person.

"Can you..." he paused for a moment, trailing off. "Can you just listen to me?"

He took you by the arm and gently lead you to the sofa, discarding his helmet as he did. Matt realised his mistake then: you'd never been able to take him seriously when he wore all the get up. Maybe you would actually listen to him now that he was sans devil horns.

"I would lose my mind if anything happened to you," he softly said. "There are people I care about in this world but if somebody, anybody, laid a finger on you, I would rain hell on every single person in this city until I found out it was. Whether it was because of my involvement with you, or because you're just so damn annoying that they felt the need to mug you."

You grinned. "Matty, that's a lot of talk for something that hasn't even happened yet."

"You're right, but it could happen. It's not outside of the realm of possibility and I don't want you to be scared but...I just think you could use your common sense a little more," he was joking on the last part, but you knew he meant it. "I'm not always gonna be around to save your ass if you get kidnapped off the street at 3AM."

"I thought you became Daredevil entirely for my sake?"

"I didn't become Daredevil to protect you," he said. "Maybe it's my reason now...but not always."

You nodded. "Of course. How silly of me."

"I love you, okay?" Matt said. It was the first time he'd ever told you that; maybe you'd known for a while, but actually saying it was a whole other ballpark. "Never change...maybe just be more careful."

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I love you too."

[freshlyhooked]

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL YEAH I'LL PROMPT YOU OKAY WHAT'S UP man i had to scroll through a bit but THIS FEEL VERY DARBY-ESQUE AS DIALOGUE TO ME so it stood out

(17) “You know what? You can go shove that apology up your ass because I don’t want to hear any of it.”

or if you want to write Jack, because i always default to touch for him

(31) reassuring touches

oh my god KATYYYYYYY YOU’VE DONE ME THE INCREDIBLE HONOR OF PARTAKING IN TUMBLR PROMPT WRITER CULTURE FOR THE FIRST TIME AT THE BEHEST OF ONE OF MY MOST FAVORITE FANDOM AUTHORS EVER?!!??!?! we go fucking BIG or go HOME in this bitch which means you get BOTH PROMPTS for the price of ONE and then I KISS YOU!!!!!!! 

this got a little out of hand but.,. we live and we breathe. ENJOY!

-/\-

“I’m gettin’ real sick of your hot-and-cold, can’t-make-up-your-mind bullshit, Perry.” 

The back of the Scapegoat bus is rapidly approaching sauna-like levels of hot after spending all afternoon baking in the unrelenting South Carolina sun, and the cheap mobile AC unit Jack rigged up to the dash two months ago only works if the bus is running. East Coast gas prices are entirely too high right now for Jack to waste a few gallons sitting around in his dumb bus with the AC on, so sprawled out shirtless on the futon it is, killing time praying to a god Jack doesn’t believe in that everyone will just leave him the fuck alone until he’s scheduled for his promo later. 

Not praying hard enough, apparently, because the only warning Jack gets before tattooed knuckles are banging at the bus's back door is the crunch of thick rubber soles on gravel and a few carefully crafted expletives. Jack groans under his breath. The banging just gets louder. 

(The back door doesn’t lock. Jack knows that Darby knows the back door doesn’t lock. He bought the bus for less than five grand on Facebook Marketplace. The back door doesn’t fucking lock, and he’s still knocking.)

“Oh my god, fuck off!” Jack snaps after a few agonizing minutes, loud enough for Darby to hear through the metal walls once he realizes that Darby’s discovered his hiding spot and has no intention of leaving anytime soon. He kicks at one of the wheel wells hard enough to rock the bus's chassis for good measure; not that he’s foolish enough to believe it’ll scare Darby off, because it won’t, and it doesn’t. “Don’t you have a psycho cowboy to survive tonight? You got your stupid title shot, so—”

Darby must finally get tired of knocking, because there’s the godawful screech of the metal door handle scraping against the rusted, non-functional lock and then the back door swings wide open. It might be some kind of poetic irony how the fresh air that rushes in is an instant relief against Jack’s superheated skin, flushed and glistening with sweat in the light of the few rays of afternoon sunshine that sneak in around the Darby-shaped shadow now hunched in the doorway. 

“It smells like hot ass in here,” is the first thing Darby murmurs once the door’s open, quiet and unobtrusive, in direct opposition to how he’s just barging in like he owns the damn place, as per the fuckin’ usual. Jack’s still blinking hard against the sudden bright sunshine, trying to get his vision to focus. For a moment he’s terrified, trying to recall where he’d stashed the belt before he remembers it’s tucked under the driver’s seat up front. Darby knows that, too. So why is he…?

“Why the fuck won’t you leave me alone?” Jack growls once his eyes finally adjust to the contrast, picks out Darby’s face against the lightly graffiti’d backdrop of the bus walls just to fling one of his lumpy travel pillows at it. Darby dodges. Jack goes to stand, but the heat maybe took a little more out of him than he thought, because he gets about halfway to his feet before his vision starts to spin. One hand smacks hard against the steel wall as Jack scrambles to balance himself, stomach churning, and— “Jesus Christ, dude, were you trying to kill yourself back here? Jack, you’re burning up.”

Darby’s hands are cold. They’re not usually cold, Jack’s familiar enough with the rope calluses on Darby’s palms to know that much, but right now they’re just another stark relief. He must’ve come straight from inside the arena. Cool fingers press against Jack’s cheeks, his forehead, splay across the dip of his collarbone, and between one blink and the next he’s sitting down, back pressed against the wall, overwhelmed by the dizziness. His futon is drenched in sweat. Jack hopes Darby doesn’t mind. 

Another blink, and Darby’s got Jack’s water bottle in his left hand; screws the top off with his right as Jack blinks blearily at him, trying to figure out where he’d procured it from, because not even Jack can remember where he’s got the thing stashed half the time. But the bottle’s open, and Jack is nauseous as fuck, and Darby’s coaxing the rim of it between his lips, so it would be foolish not to just grab the damn thing and drink, right? 

The only sound for a few precious moments is the creak of the rusty hinges on the bus door as it sways a little in the breeze. Jack sucks down what’s left of the water in his bottle in hopes that maybe, just maybe Darby will fuck right back off to wherever he came from once he’s done, but Jack polishes off the bottle and scrubs the back of his hand over his mouth and the moron is still fucking staring at him. 

(The dizziness abates some, though, once he’s a little more hydrated. Maybe he should’ve spent the extra cash on gas for the AC after all.) 

“What?” Jack rasps, the petulant huff tugged free from his chest when the prickling silence and the staring combination become too much. Darby doesn’t answer immediately, just plucks the empty bottle from Jack’s palm and eyes him with a look Jack can’t place. It makes him nervous. Most things make him nervous these days. And then Darby opens his mouth. “You lose one cage match and your first course of action is to burn yourself alive in the back of your shitty bus?” 

Jack’s still swallowing down the last of the nausea, weak all over, but it does nothing to keep him from flipping the double bird at where Darby’s now crouching between his feet. “You’d know a lot about that, right? Burning people alive. Fucking psycho,” Jack grumbles, kicks one heel out to try and topple Darby over when he swats at his wrists in response. There’s a scoff and then the offending leg is snatched up by cool fingers, curving around Jack’s ankle, firm against the bare strip of skin between his rolled-up pant leg and where his sock begins. Jack kicks again, weaker, not aggressive enough to dislodge them. “Jealous I’ll finish the job before you can?”

Darby doesn’t respond. Not verbally, at least. Those cold fingers tighten around Jack’s ankle for a moment, a brief squeeze, and then they’re skimming up the length of his calf, tucking beneath the rolled fabric of his jeans. The temperature difference prickles goosebumps along Jack’s skin, makes the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end. Like this, Darby between Jack’s spread legs, it’s almost like they’re back in Nashville; both soaked through with sweat and blood, reeking of gasoline and shitty grease paint, Darby’s hands on Jack’s skin, and— 

Darby needs to leave. Jack needs to make Darby leave now.

“You need to—”

“You’re hiding in here,” Darby says, the words carefully chosen, and it isn’t a question. Jack stares at him, expression maybe a little too openly off-balance, because every conversation between them anymore is a damn game of chess and Darby never hesitates to press his advantage. “You’ve been hiding in here all day. From who? From me?” 

“From—” Everybody. “—nobody, you dick. Not everything is about you.”

“From your EVP buddies?”

Jack sits up with a start, shoots his hands out to shove once, hard, at Darby’s shoulders. Darby’s not expecting the sudden motion, goes over easy with a muffled curse, and then they’re tussling on the floor of the bus. Because god forbid the two of them sit alone in a space for more than five minutes without either fighting or fucking, right? 

“Get the fuck out.” Jack’s fingers curl tight around Darby’s shirt collar. A seam pops. Jack’s just glad Darby’s wearing a shirt at all.

“Matt, right? You mad at him for last week?” Darby rips Jack’s hairtie out. Curls half-matted together with sweat come down in front of his eyes. Jack’s obscured vision makes it easy for Darby to flip them, forcing Jack onto his back, pinning his shoulders to the shoddy carpet squares he bought on clearance when he realized he probably needed to cover up the rusty bus floor before somebody got tetanus. Jack gnashes his teeth, shoves at Darby’s arms. They don’t budge. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Darby replies too quickly, shrugs too casually, and Jack hates that he can tell it’s a lie. He shouldn’t know these things about Darby. How his fingers twitch when he’s focused. How he blinks fast when he’s trying not to laugh. Jack’s dizzy all over again trying to figure him out when Darby settles back, sits on Jack’s hips to keep him prone. Jack struggles for a few tense seconds, bucks and squirms to see if he can dislodge Darby’s weight, but—

A trash can clatters somewhere outside the bus. Jack realizes all at once that he’s shirtless, Darby’s perched on his waist, and the back door is still wide open. Darby’s grinning. Jack’s ears are burning. He goes still. 

“Darby,” Jack catches his breath and tries again. Forces his voice to stay level, quiet, because he’s acutely aware that if anyone were to come wandering back near the trailer bay parking lot and see them through the open door this would be incredibly difficult to explain away. He can’t even explain it to himself, Darby’s insatiable obsession with him, but— but maybe it’s Jack’s fault in the first place. Enabling, and all that. “What do I have to do to make you leave?”

To his credit, at least, Darby doesn’t beat around the bush. “Tell me why you keep sending me away.”

Jack… laughs. A real laugh, disbelieving, maybe a little bit mean. “Did you hit your head? Are— Are you fucking serious?” And it is mean, but it’s not Jack’s fault. He knows a lot about Darby, and Darby doesn’t typically ask stupid questions. “Darby— we don’t— we can’t do this. I—”

“Then why’d you let me in? Last week?”

Jack freezes up. His tongue goes thick in his mouth, clumsy, visions of spine tattoos and ice blue eyes dancing in his head. Darby doesn’t let up. “Before then, too. In Vegas.”

“...The back door doesn’t lock. Nobody let you in.” Jack croaks after a terrifyingly weighted pause, a misdirection, a non-answer. He’s never been good at chess. Darby knows that, too.

“You would have, if I asked.”

Jack goes tense. Narrows his eyes. “And— And I would’ve given you a fucking title shot, too, if you had asked.”

When it comes to their game of misdirections and half-truths, it’s probably too honest for Jack to confess; but it’s easier to admit he would’ve given away the title shot than attempt to come face-to-face with his own feelings. Maybe that’s why Darby still looks upset, brow furrowed in frustration, and Jack realizes suddenly what Darby’s real goal is. Darby wants him to put a name to this. Darby wants Jack to label this tenuous something between them that isn’t just fits of passion borne from residual bloodlust. Jack’s stomach goes cold with fear. “Darby, I—” 

“No— No, Jack, you listen to me—”

“—Look, I’m sorry, okay? This isn’t—”

“I don’t want your fucking sorries!” Jack isn’t expecting the outburst. His jaw clicks shut when Darby shouts, shoves at Jack’s shoulders, eyes going wide and furious. Worried for a second that Darby’s back in a fighting mood, that they’re going to draw unwanted attention, Jack tenses up. Anticipates a punch that doesn’t happen, because as fast as it had come, Darby’s anger is gone. Instead, it almost sounds like exhaustion, when Darby sighs. “Take— take all your stupid, half-baked apologies and shove ‘em up your ass. I didn’t come here for you to say you’re sorry.”

Jack can’t look him in the eyes. “Then what did you come here for, Darby?”

Is it terrible to admit that it’s not quite a surprise? Darby, as good as he is at twisting his words, at making Jack feel like he’s winning until he’s accidentally bared half his soul… it’s not his preferred method of communication. No, Darby’s all action; hard lines of movement, of strength, and it’s the same now, when Darby buries his hands in Jack’s hair and presses them together hard at the mouth. 

And even this is usually a battleground, too. Kisses are generally a war, between them— gnashing teeth and tongue, just another way to play the game, to decide a winner. But it’s different today. Today, Darby holds him still and teases into his mouth like a lover, and at least this part is unexpected enough to bring Jack pause. It’s the middle of the day, and the bus door is wide open, and Darby’s tongue does something that rips a groan from Jack’s chest, and… 

Sometime later, Jack comes to. 

He’s dizzy, but there’s a cool breeze washing over his skin, gentle fingers brushing curls out of his eyes as he pants for breath against Darby’s lips. There’s something unspoken there in the way that Darby looks at him. It’s noisier outside, more foot traffic, and Jack can hear people talking, the jingle of keys as more staff pull up to the arena. For all of two seconds Darby seems frustrated, annoyed, and then he’s… sitting up. Standing to his feet. Leaves Jack boneless and devastated on the floor, still trying to blink himself back into coherence, and flicks Jack’s hairtie back into his face for good measure. Jackass.

“I’ll win tonight. And the belt, too,” Darby says, and the words are absolutely, completely meaningless; Jack already knows. There’s a determination on Darby’s face that hadn’t been there before, not even when demanding his TNT title shot in the cage, and Jack has an awful, terrifying theory on the reason behind it that he’s saving for later. It’s easier to have an emotional breakdown in an actual bed. “And turn the fuckin’ AC on, if you’re planning on staying out here until call time.”

“Get lost, Darby,” Jack mutters back. There’s no heat behind it. The bus chassis shakes as Darby steps through the door, hops off the back stoop into the gravel below, and Jack sits up just to watch him go. Stares at the hard line of the spine tattoo peeking out from beneath the collar of Darby’s shirt until it disappears behind the rest of the trailers and then he’s alone again, though it isn’t as triumphant a victory as he’d hoped. 

Because it isn’t a victory at all; Darby’s going to keep wedging himself in between Jack and the rest of the Elite until he’s satisfied, until he has Jack all to himself, and god fucking damn it, Jack’s going to let him.

(He turns the AC on.)

-/\-

[jerrylevitch]

Chris is a harasser?! And Ronnie disowned his brothers and his mother?? And Anthony stole care money from his mother!?which Jerry was paying??? Why was Chris trying to distance his brothers from their father? (I hope you will correct any incorrect information for me and explain more to me) If Jerry was a bad father, was Patty a bad mother? She did not deserve this treatment at the end of his life, and to see his children in this state, and I was sure that Jerry had his reasons, I mean, from a person who loved his family to a person who disowned them…! I truly feel disappointed… I don't blame him, what a farce this is

Years ago on Facebook, Anthony had a public argument with his brother Gary on photos on his profile. I think it was a photo of their mom or something. Gary accused Anthony of not caring about their mother Patti, and Anthony shot back about Gary not being there for Joseph. Anthony alluded to Chris molesting Joseph. Anthony ended up deleting the comments soon after, but not before fans saw the exchange. This was like in 2012.

Anthony wasn't allowed to see his mom after stealing the money meant for her care. Jerry had been paying the money, then found out what Anthony was doing, and stopped communicating with him. They had been pretty close, before that.

There was an unfinished documentary that Scott was making, that was posted on vimeo. I saved some of those videos. Scott confirms that Anthony isn't allowed to see his mom though it's never specified why, and Anthony goes to see her finally in a nursing home, in the documentary excerpt.

Chris probably was trying to keep the other brothers away, because it just made Jerry upset. That is speculation there though. I don't think that Jerry was aware of Chris having a dark side. Anthony called him Chris the devil, a few times on social media. However Anthony is an awful person himself, and we have feuded with each other on social media. (Somehow he still has me as a Facebook friend?) LOL He told me I was a little person who is best suited to work with shoes..... I work in the entertainment industry and teaching field, but ok. Lol This was after I told him that some info he was saying about Martin and Lewis films was incorrect, and he couldn't handle a polite reply. He's such a pompous ass.

Ronnie disowned his whole family (not sure about Patti), likely partially because of the drama. I had suspected that Ronnie was Jerry's biological son for yrs, and last yr Rick Sapphire (Jerry's former manager/publicist) said that Ronnie is his biological child and when he found out, disowned the family. I don't tend believe Rick Sapphire on very much. Jerry fired him for taking money from fans for autographs and other stuff. Some stuff out of his mouth is just flat out incorrect, and to me he seemed to have vendetta against Jerry, after they fell out. He does currently represent Gary Lewis as his manager. I do believe that Ronnie is Jerry's biological son though. He always had the same dimpled chin. It's clear that the mother of Ronnie had blonde hair. Much like Dean Paul Martin Jr, had blonde hair and looked totally like Jeanne Martin rather than Dean at all.

I just don't know what Patti did for Anthony to treat her like that. He stopped speaking to her for years after Jerry and Patti's divorce too, and took Jerry's side only. She wasn't invited to his wedding, and didn't see her grandchildren for years. He helped her sue Jerry for proceeds from The Nutty Professor remake later, when they had made up. I guess Jerry forgave him after that, because they were close again in the 00's. He still seems very opportunistic.

[empressofdiamonds]

Review of my past dopamine detoxx efforts, so you can learn from my fails and wins, just cuz I love you

YOUTUBE - I simply uninstalled the app off my phone. Some think it is simply unimaginable, that they can't handle it without YouTube, but Istg it's all lies your mind is telling you. If you're spending so much time on YouTube Shorts, just uninstall. It's like, so easily accessible via the YT app. On the desktop website version it is not as accessible (important keyword!), and thus, you're less likely to binge so hard. Every time I installed YouTube, Shorts was my bane. So I was so much off just uninstalling it. I also unsubbed from all my channels, I used to only have a few subs but I realized I just didn't listen to any of their content. I liked the IDEA of those people, their aesthethica, their whole mood, etc. But their content didn't help me. So out the window it goes!

FACEBOOK - That was a easy one to be quite honest, I used to post a few pictures a month, mostly food or hike trips, stuff like that. I just kept my Facebook going on for the professional groups and school group chats, otherwise it would be completely shut down. I now just don't post anything at all, nothing at all. People don't need to know every minutiae of my life. Shoo shoo.

TUMBLR - This one bit my ass hard. I unsubbed from every single blog, even my favourites, and saved the list in an archive sideblog. But it turned out I just didn't visit those blogs that often, and thus, I wasn't as active on Tumblr as much. So I'll concede, because I love my blog and Tumblr so much, I'll subscribe to a few blogs, but be very strict about my curating. One of the issues I had with Tumblr was the endless scroll of aesthethic pictures without any informative and thought provoking content... it just annoyed me to no end having to scroll and NOT MISSING THE "IMPORTANT" STUFF. (FOMO in a nutshell). Later on I'll reexamine my use of Tumblr. Maybe I'll just unsub again, maybe I'll curate it even more, to be seen. That's the beauty of this process, you can make mistakes, learn from them, and correct your shot as you go. No need to get it perfect from the start.

REDDIT - Despite deleting my account, I noticed I kept coming back to Reddit, because I lacked things to occupy my mind (veryyyyyy important to me else I'll go rabid). I found solutions that engage my mind, without absorbing negative vibes. Yeah as you might've noticed, Reddit is like so negative, and so irritating. No bueno. I installed a very simple sudoku game without ads, and downloaded a big fat bunch of boosk to read into my ebook. A massive quantity I can't ever finish them all. Smart babes gotta maintain their brains!

INSTAGRAM - It has been like YEARS since I ditched this, but I still remember very well my lesson: I obessively followed accounts of influencers, and artists and those home decorating accounts, to a point it took like a hour to check every single account's posts. Spending so much time over this, because I ASPIRED to become those people, but DIDN'T do any sort of effort. I did save pictures of artist's art, thinking I will do something inspired by their stuff, but I just did nothing. I just collected and collected and collected. It was exhausting my precious time without any good return, and as the wastage went on, my guilt became heavier. A guilty mind will do shit. It won't do stuff. It will procrastinate. So I decided to just quit, it was hard at first, but later I realized I just didn't miss it, and I was happy to have my productive, creative mind back. So yeah, good riddance

[wendytestabrat]

kyle’s most toxic/chaotic episodes:

•ike’s wee wee - for harassing ike once he found out he was adopted and saying he’s not his real brother and then sending him on a train to nebraska

•cow days - for him being a spoiled materialistic brat and a jerk to cartman all for some terrance & phillip dolls; HE FUCKING THREATENS CARTMAN INTO RIDING A BULL AND THEN WHEN CARTMAN GETS HURT AND HAS TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL HE STILL MAKES CARTMAN GO BACK ON THE BULL

•douche & turd - for bullying and pressuring stan to vote for a giant douche, sending puff daddy after him, LITERALLY SPITTING ON HIM, and using kenny for his own benefit all so he could beat cartman. also the fact that he wanted a giant douche as the mascot was just immature af LOL

•cartman’s incredible gift - for jumping off a fucking roof because he couldn’t stand to see people taking cartman seriously as a psychic

•mr. garrison’s fancy new vagina - for his blatant racism (and internalized anti-semitism) assuming he would only be good at basketball if he was tall & black - basically he did blackface here LOL

•two days before the day after tomorrow - for hiding the jew gold

•ginger kids - for BREAKING AND ENTERING into cartman’s room to turn him into a ginger which caused cartman to go on an extermination against every non-ginger

•le petit tourette - for rounding up 47388392 pedophiles to shoot themselves on dateline because he was mad abt cartman pretending to have tourettes (even tho he was just jealous of cartman’s brilliant idea LOL)

•imaginationland - for being so fucking arrogant and sure that leprechauns aren’t real that he signed a legally binding contract to suck cartman’s balls (which wasn’t very smart) and then couldn’t honor his commitment when he was wrong. i’m sorry but like IDGAF what a bet is about you just don’t agree to suck someone’s balls idc how sure u are that you’re gonna win LOL.

•tonsil trouble - for making fun of cartman for having aids and then gets MAD at cartman for making aids jokes later on to stay positive smh

•britney’s new look - for coming up with the idea to get a paparazzi photo of britney for $$ - it was his fault that britney shot herself

•fatbeard - for purposely trying to get cartman sent off to somalia to die and inadvertently making his brother go there too

•you have 0 friends - for being an annoying social media prick and not leaving stan alone about facebook and doing dumbass shit to get more FB friends WHO GIVES A SHIT people who care too much abt their social media followers are losers

•it’s a jersey thing - yeah do i even need to explain this one?

•crack baby athletic association - for exploiting crack babies for money and acting selfish & greedy like cartman in the process

•you’re getting old/ass burgers - FOR SELLING OUT STAN AT HIS WORST AND BEING A BACKSTABBING ASSHOLE

•a history channel thanksgiving - for throwing a hissy fit over cartman’s idea to use the history channel for their thanksgiving report and then getting all pouty later that he was wrong about aliens or whatever the fuck

•ginger cow - i don’t need to explain this one

•go fund yourself - for being all extra and causing drama by making his own startup company bc he was jealous of cartman for coming up with the name ‘washington redskins’

•stunning and brave - for encouraging cartman to stand up to PC principal and getting him sent to the hospital (AND BTW KYLE DIDN’T WANNA DO SHIT ABT PC PRINCIPAL UNTIL IT PERSONALLY AFFECTED HIM AND HE GOT IN TROUBLE FOR THE COMMENT HE MADE ABOUT CAITLYN JENNER)

•skank hunt - for accusing cartman of being the troll and getting everyone all riled up to break his shit

•wieners out - for him being salty when he found out cartman moved on with heidi, you know after he deadass broke all of cartman’s shit

•fort collins - for him threatening to expose cartman’s INTERNET HISTORY to heidi

•doubling down - for stealing heidi from cartman

•super hard PCness - for blowing up canada bc he was still pissed off about cartman & heidi LOL

•tegridy farms - for enabling cartman to sell vapes to kindergarteners (including his brother) despite his original stance of being against it, deadass almost giving up his entire birthday money for cartman, and then letting cartman beat up the drug dealer & helping him break into a vape shop 🙄

•south parq vaccination special - for trying to steal the vaccines for himself - yet bitching at stan & cartman that they were being selfish JFC

•south park post covid and the return of covid - for getting mad at cartman for being a rabbi and having a happy family and accusing him of stupid bullshit and cussing in front of his wife & kids (bringing up shit from 40 years ago) and then making cartman sacrifice his entire family to help him

•the streaming wars part 1 - for giving up all the money they earned on the streaming services to let cartman get tits LOL

[themagnusbane]

GAP The Series Episode 9 Thoughts

After the way we left things off at the end of episode 8, I really really need us to get an apology (or rather Mon should get the apology) in the first half of this episode, and for the truth about Kirk to be revealed. I'm tired of his ass and the drama his secrets bring, and I just want the sapphics kissing and fucking dammit!

So yeah, let's kick things off.

Aaaaand of course we're starting with my baby girl Mon crying her eyes out, with Sam's words ringing in her head. As someone who still remembers the horrible things my lovers have said in a fit of anger, this totally tracks. Words can't be taken back. It's why they haunt us, coloring our interactions with others, sinking their claws into the essence of who we are, and erasing our self-esteem with every trickle of their poison. Now, I know Sam is the way she is because of her witch of a grandmother, and Mon not telling her the truth about Kirk (which I still lay at the feet of Kirk because that piece of shit basically took advantage of his position and Mon's sweet nature to push her into keeping a secret she shouldn't have had to keep in the first place!!! He's just as terrible a boss as Sam!!), triggered those feelings of suspicious and distrust, causing her to lash out, but personally, I want to see her acknowledge that her words do hurt. Both truths can exist. Sam is the way she is because of the abuse she's suffered at the hands of her grandmother. But also, Sam's treatment of, and words to Mon, (not just what happened with Kirk, but since she started working for her), is horrible, and I really hope that this show has someone call her out on it, at the very least, cuz if I was the one in this universe and watching this mess, she won't like my words.

2. Y'all know how much I love this show, and these two women. They've been serving me EVERYTHING I wanted, since the very first episode. But I swear, I need to have a conversation with the writer. I find it very troubling that Mon's only upset right now, seems to be her worry that Sam doesn't love her anymore. There's a prioritization of Sam's feelings over Mon's pain in the start of this episode that just has me screaming at my screen at this point, because the writers in the room, made certain choices that I don't agree with.

3. But honestly, this is one of the most beautiful shot shows!!! That visual of Mon lying down on her bed, being surrounded by her mix of pink and white teddies and pillow, with her pale skin and pink lips and the black hair is GIVING!!!!!!!!

4. The way I hissed at Kirk's annoying voice and his talking about telling Sam the truth about his Facebook identity. Like DUDE, THAT IS NOT THE SECRET WE WANT YOU TO SHARE! Tell Sam about your backstabbing, traitorous ways!!! I swear, I can't believe I went from thinking of him as a good egg, to wanting to enter the screen so I can strangle his ass!!!

5. The audacity of him saying he's told Sam the whole truth when WE KNOW there's still more he's hiding from her. Trash! Trash! Also, Sam isn't jealous at your supposed affair with Mon because she wants you. She's jealous because her girlfriend keeps getting caught in compromising positions with your no-personal-space-respecting ass!

6. Kirk, don't try and be charming, it doesn't suit you. Don't try and flirt. Sam doesn't want you. Don't try and be complimentary, Sam doesn't need you to boost her ego. Just sit there and be the useless, lying fucker you are. Don't try and pretend to be someone you're not. We see you!!

7. I love how Sam thinks she can just show up, and Mon would jump to see her. Hell to the nah! Not after all the vile VILE things you said. Fuck that shit! Good on Mon for insisting on not seeing Sam. Make her work for it my darling. Make her WORK FOR IT!!

8. Shout out to Sam for recognizing just how amazing Mon's mum is, and that she's a core part of the reason why Mon grew up to be so gracious and lovable. Teacher Pohn, you deserve all the applause and all the flowers!! Take you for your generous spirit and your kind heart. Best mum award goes to you!! To think that both you and that witch of a grandmother exist in the same timeline. Smh. Honestly, whenever we get a glimpse into Mon's family and just the love she was raised with, I feel even sorrier for Sam. I imagine just how restrictive it must have been for child Sam to live with a grandmother like that, who's more focused on prestige and her bringing "honour" to their house, rather than Sam's own happiness.

9. Sam's heartbroken expression at Mon ignoring her and walking past, is breaking my own heart. Urgh!! See, this is why you have to be careful what you say, and realize just how much you can hurt the girl you love. You need to apologize Sam. Really apologize. Not the apology where you spin things around, and avoid stating exactly how you fucked up. You need to be honest, and own up to that shit, cuz you really really hurt your girl.

10. Mon's stepdad is awesome and he gives great advice. But I also resent the fact that what he's saying is from a position where he holds incomplete facts. He thinks that Sam and Mon's relationship is purely professional, and I can see why he believes that Mon's boss coming all the way to their house and patiently waiting to see Mon, after they had a "fight" is rare and commendable. But we the audience know that that isn't the case, and as much as I love his advise of speaking out and clearing the air by talking about the fight, I hope the writers find a way to work it into the conversation that Mon has every right to be upset, and that Sam is aware of that. But knowing the writers and how society has a way of villainizing anger as an emotion, I'm not holding my breath.

11. This is so unfair!! Khun Sam!! You know acting adorably is our weakness. How can you split between playacting like the little ghost baby and a dog in one scene??? How is Mon meant to hold onto her anger when you act so cute??? How am I????? Urgh!!! This is so unfair!!!!!

12. My baby Sam. Look at that honest, sincere apology!!! There was a bit of worry for a moment that she was going to gloss over it (girl, no one buys that when you basically called Mon a two-timer, you meant that in a "she's beautiful and clever" way. Don't try and play us.), but she powered through, and apologized sincerely and honestly. Sure she might have centered herself a little in the apology (would it really be Sam if she doesn't? Not like y'all should do that though. If you are apologizing and suddenly start talking about how the rift caused you to lose sleep, and how you don't feel too good, dial it back several notches. The apology is meant to center the aggrieved party's pain, not yours), but that was soon left behind as she was honest with her jealousy and was sincere with wanting to do right by Mon. You know what we call that????

13. Sam's pleased nod, at Mon loving the dinner set up has me grinning like a fool. Sam my beloved! Why are you so increasingly adorable???? Falling in love suits you so much my beloved!!!

14. And the gift giving!!! Her going to the same accessories stand that she had initially criticized for being "cheap", and purchasing matching bracelets for her and Mon??? Sam! My heart! Sweetheart!!! You are redeeming yourself at such a quick pace!!!

15. Hehehehehe. I love how drinking a scotch whiskey for them, is part of their foreplay for having sex. Rofl! You go my queens. Get it on!! Let loose! Get it on!!!

16. Gghjghjghjghjghjghjg. That little squeal of Sam when Mon pushes her into the pool. So fucking cute and adorable. Hehehehe.

17. I couldn't have been the only one who moaned at that shot of Mon looking down at Sam while the latter was in the pool right. Cuz fuuuuuuuck.

18. Aaaaaaand they are following it up with them making out in the pool. My mouth is dry. Fuck. This show is killing me. Sam's head being tossed back. The way she's licking her lips. The deep breaths. The fingers to her mouth. The camera panning to where we don't see Mon but we know she's there, tossing Sam's salad, and eating her out. Their two hands around Sam's throat? This fucking show! This fucking show. I'm too horny for this. RIP to my ass. This show has fucking killed me!!!

19. The fact that my eyes which have just been blessed by my lesbians, lesbianing, are now being tainted by Kirk and his heterosexual red roses, and entitled pushing of Sam to go on a date with him, is homophobic and should be classified as a hate crime!

20. Nita in that red jumpsuit though, is giving Scooby Doo-Monster unleashed!!!!

21. Aaaaand of course Nita noticed the couple bracelets. That sharp-eyed look, and the smirk after she makes the connection?? I WANT THIS WOMAN TO RUIN ME!! Just one night. That's all I ask!!!

22. Kirk strikes me as one of those pretty boys who get buy on their looks and have never had to really use their brains, which now that I think about is, an insult to those pretty boys because at least they have brains. Kirk doesn't even have an iota of a braincell cuz if he did, and if he use that singular braincell to think, he would have known that NEVER IN A MILLION LIFETIMES would Sam want to enter a joint-venture with Nita. Like how can you claim to be her fiancée and not realize this singular, basic fact?

23. I'm sorry, why... WHY would the writers think it is in ANY way okay for Sam to out Mon to Kirk? Her conversation with Kirk can easily stop at "I have a lover". That's it. That's all that she needed to say. But to bring Mon into this, to name her, to her soon to be ex-fiancee, in their workplace, when she is very much aware that her employees are nosy and they might even be eavesdropping on this conversation, and even if they aren't, WHY WOULD YOU OUT MON TO KIRK??? What the fuck!

24. Aaaaaaand she stalks off, after outing Mon, leaving her alone with her now ex-fiancee, a man who probably feels that he's been made a fool of... I have a migraine. With the way the writers keep writing Sam and the choices she makes, it's like one step forward and two steps back for me.

25. Nita taking the opportunity to hit on Sam is doing things to me because fuuuuuck, they look so good together, and you know shit would be smoking hot between them both!!

26. I love that Sam immediately shuts her down, but seriously Sam. This is twice in two scenes, back-to-back that you have outed your girlfriend, without confirming that she is okay with coming out. What the fuck are the writers thinking??? Why do they think this is in any way okay???

27. Sam's delusions in thinking that Kirk will "understand" has me shaking my head so hard. Girl, you give that man way too much credit. When will it occur to you that that man likes to make decisions on your behalf, without considering whether or not that's what you actually want???? You seemingly "broke his heart", admitted that you have been having an affair with the girl he's seemingly been bearing his heart to, and you think he's a-okay???

28. Ha!!! I totally called Yha and Chin having an affair!!! Sam's reaction to catching them is peak hilarity though!!! But, please tell me why I didn't clock that Chin has a wife?? Why didn't I know this? Was it mentioned, but I didn't remember it? Cuz I'm going through my memories of his character being introduced but I can't remember them mentioning his wife.

29. Sam's "I only come to work to look at your face" statement is so valid. I feel you on it girlfriend. Capitalism fucking sucks. Why work when you can be gay????

30. Yo! Are they about to have sex in the office????? Which no complaints, but is that door locked???? If there's anything we learned from the History that Shall not be Named, Also known as History: Salt is the ultimate villain, it is that ALWAYS LOCK THE DOOR!! ALWAYS!!!

31. Sam's hand on Yah's head as she pushes her out of the office is sending me!!!!

32. GAP is giving me the workplace romance I didn't know I NEEDED!!! That sex scene in the office? Jesus!!! This show's making up for edging us for so many episodes !!! GAP is like "they took forever to kiss", and now that they have, there shall fuck on every single available surface, and I am utterly grateful to them for doing that!!! Hehehehe.

33. I'm sorry, how the hell is Mon standing in front of the mirror, and can't notice that her lipstick is smudged, and she looks well and truly debauched.

34. Yha's "ooooooh. Haaaaaaa. Ooooooooh". I AM DEAD!!! DEAD!!!!!

35. Too many people are learning about Mon and Sam's relationship. I suspect their relationship won't stay a secret for long, at this rate.

36. Cher is so hot! Fuck!!! All the women in this show are fucking hot. It's the hair, plus the shirt and the teasing. They just do it for me. The amount of sapphic representation we are getting in this show, is making me so goddam happy. This is what I want! THIS!!!!!!

37. The honeymoon vibes of this getaway is making me so happy. Add Risa and Cher's openly showing their love. The conversation about same-sex marriage in Thailand. This is perfect. I'm squealing so hard!!!

38. Aaaaaand of course they can't let us be happy for too long. Like I get why Mon is hesitating. She's idolized Sam for so long, and feels like she can't measure up to her. But sweetheart... SAM LOVES YOU!! Urgh! I thought the only opposition to them marrying would be Sam's grandmother. I totally didn't factor in Mon's hang-ups into the equation.

Looks like next week's episode has the honorable grandmother making an appearance and URGH!! WHY??????????? I've been thinking of who might have put her on Sam and Mon's trail, and I'm thinking it's either Kirk or Nita, cuz I only trust those two as far as I can throw them, which isn't very far!!!

Next week's definitely going to be a doozy. Brace yourselves everyone!!!

[reirei19050]

Mandatory disclaimer: this rant isn't me attempting to say the authors are inherently malicious people or anything. Though, considering the Erins' reputation with poorly handling serious themes, I cannot entirely trust they are competent enough to have intended what's described below. If they (or just Vicky, since some have described it as being "her book"?) did, they failed.

Without further ado. Been thinking about the most contradicting statements made regarding SpottedLeaf's Heart, depending on how you interpret Vicky's words.

Firs up is a screen shot from Vicky Holmes' twitter, dated April 13th, 2017.

[ID: Much alarm at the Thistle Spotted age gap. Cats don't take any notice of that kind of thing, I'm afraid. I don't condone eating raw mice either. End ID]

I can't tell if she's referring to herself or the audience; probably both, actually. Regardless, I don't think her aim is to defend a fictional pedophile here; reading her next statement makes that a tad more apparent. I can only assume it is a poor attempt at explaining why no other cats took notice.

Here's a second screen shot, from Vicky Holmes' FaceBook page. It is not dated, but also came out at some point in 2017 as well, either sometime before or after Shattered Sky's release date (April 11th of 2017). So, it might have come out before the first screen shot presented, or might not have; I'm not sure.

[ID: Goodness me, I was not anticipating that strength of reaction to SpottedLeaf's Heart. I did warn you that I'd found the balance of the story hard to get right. I wanted to explore SpottedLeaf's character more thoroughly, and show how she ended up becoming a medicine cat, but I also wanted to hint at just how bad ThistleClaw really was.

I am intrigued by the twin themes of criticism, that I have never really proved why ThistleClaw deserved to go to the Dark Forest, and that I have included something as nasty as a very young apprentice being approached by a much older warrior. Well, this is why ThistleClaw was consigned to the Place of No Stars. For SpottedLeaf, becoming a medicine cat was also finding a place of sanctuary from cats with confusing, sinister motivations and ulterior motives.

Huge thank you purrs to everyone who has commented here and elsewhere. Your passion for these books leaves me breathless, as always. Do bear in mind that I only work for novellas now. I'm not a part of the editorial team that creates books within the main series, so I'm afraid I can't talk about Shattered Sky. Warriors has the best fans in the world, with the loudest voices and (sometimes) sharpest claws. Be safe, precious clan mates. Love, Vicky. End ID]

In universe, I honestly doubt that ThistleCunt preying on SpottedPaw romantically is why StarClan sent his ass to the Dark Forest. Or he just appeared there. Obviously, these anthropomorphic cats don't care for age gaps enough to condemn him, Vicky said so herself, but if this is the desired reason as to why he's there as opposed to all his other, also terrible actions long before this book had been brainstormed...Many more characters should be there, including multiple fan favorites. So, even if that's the reason Vicky wanted him to be there, narratively it holds zero weight, because no other characters are held accountable for doing the same exact things. You know, since they're the supposed "good guys" or on the "good side."

Which, is bad. Really bad, for a book series aimed at children, to not make it clear enough how wrong not only his actions are, but any other cats who do the exact same thing. Making the readers feel disgusted by him (and him alone) is not enough. Them being human minded but cats does not take away from the severity. When an author features topics as serious as abuse, pedophilia, etc. in their writing targeted at an audience so young, they need to do it with much care and caution or not at all. You cannot have a villain do something, present it as bad, then turn around and have heroes do the same thing and be justified or brushed off. Or in Warriors case, have the good guys do all the nasty things first, then present a villain who does the exact same shit. It sends the wrong message.

Remember: fictional characters are not capable of having their own thoughts and feelings. They are narrative tools whose decisions are dictated by their creator(s). The "beliefs" held by these kitty cats do not matter, therefore don't work as a defense.

[blorbocedes]

I would love to hear any more thoughts or hc’s you have on the goldlicks au

so it's 2009, set after this. lewis and nico are on an extended break lol and nico is fucking jenson.

jenson slid in his dms SMS the second nico changed his Facebook status to 'it's complicated' and yes jenson is lewis' buddy but it's also an exploration of why hes willing to be the backup fuck

nico going from closeted bestie to promiscuous bisexual (it's 2009 we're allowed to be problematic). jenson's fine being seen with nico at the clubs, in fact they're doing body shots, he's very comfortable w his reputation. so nico's at the mclaren parties and lewis is overcompensating by having a bunch of girls on his arm, reigning world champion. dying mad about this nico cozies up to jense who has his hand on his ass. nico's very femme fatale seductive mind games but then hes also mad jenson sees him like that -- nepo baby princess son of f1 world champion monaco pretty boy. and he's all waaaah cause lewis knew the real him (girl. who is the real you, do you even know. codependent bestie)

but then lewis starts dating a literal pop star with HIS name (miss nicole)..... and jenson wins the championship and nico jumps on him~ something something saying he only dates world champions when lewis is in earshot, except jenson lifts him up and says he loves him and nico's like oh. oh no.