#stop telling people that they need all of these outrageous things just to feel beautiful

[morgue-me]

I was talking to someone today about how ridiculous beauty standards are and they said that people should "stop gatekeeping sexy" and I just think that's beautiful

[pierregazly]

but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau

oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.

ynleclerc

tagged charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and others

ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?

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username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles

username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here

username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around

arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?

ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?

charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?

ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3

scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏

username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does

username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭

oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw

username oscar??

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others

oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪

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logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over

username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!

username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant

username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!

ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl

oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer

landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨

username lando really said i'm the third wheel??

username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too

username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil

username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(

ynleclerc has posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, pascale.leclerc.355, and others

replies

oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this

ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour

charles_leclerc who is this

charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating

charles_leclerc we won't hurt him

charles_leclerc answer my texts

ynleclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others

ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍

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username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied

username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)

arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo

liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl

ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)

pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗

charles_leclerc maman?

username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage

username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...

username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)

username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar

ynleclerc

tagged oscarpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, and others

ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮‍💨

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri love you <3

oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.

arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?

charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?

pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍

charles_leclerc maman, you knew?

ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3

tresbelleleclercspam

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'

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charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race

charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non

arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned

lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should

oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???

ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers

oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3

i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!

i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.

[foldingfittedsheets]

In the bloom of my youth I found myself on an evening with my best friend in the park. We were young and it was a beautiful warm summer night to be out. At sixteen in a small rural town our options for entertainment were limited but it had been a good day.

Park is a somewhat generous term for the locale, what it amounted to was a cleared space with some planters and bushes, a tiny podium, and a square of trees round the perimeter. We had been hanging about with our friend who needed to leave, and waiting to be picked up ourselves, carless plebeians that we were.

So there we were, two teen girls in the park alone as the last of the light faded. Neither of us had cellphones, and my nana was collecting us right from the park as we’d agreed earlier. We were in no hurry, knowing she’d arrive when she arrived.

Until my friend said, “What was that?”

I looked up to where she was pointing but I didn’t see anything. “What?” I asked.

“I think it was… someone streaking?”

It was absurd to think. Our little town, tiny and rural as it was, with a streaker. But I loved my friend, so instead of laughing I said, “Let’s go see.”

I’m not sure what I thought it was, but I was confident she’d be less nervous if we investigated and found a plastic bag or a jogger in white. And I’ll admit I was curious at this anomaly. We made our way across the park to where she’d pointed.

That’s when I saw it too. A flash of pale skin under the streetlights, moving too quickly through the shadows and shrubs to see clearly. My friend clung to my arm, shrinking in on herself and I felt the first twitch of fear. Investigating no longer seemed like the thing to do.

I was determined to protect her from whatever was lurking, so I changed course and started cutting away from the movement, heading for the small shopping center not too far outside the park.

Our progress was suddenly arrested as the mysterious figure launched into our path. A man crouched on the pavement before us, fully nude except for a loincloth. His hair was in white people dreads. It was in every way like Tarzan had stepped out of the animated movie into real life.

My friends fingers were digging painfully into my arm and we stood stock still, staring at this bizarre apparition. He was still a good fifteen feet away from us. He stared back, making soft simian “ooh ooh” sounds.

I was struggling to process that a man in a loin cloth was right there when he started to move toward us. It was in his monkey half crouch, a few shambling steps, slow, with his eyes fixed on us.

“Leave us alone!” I declared.

He stopped, tilting his head this way and that. Then shifted like he would take another step.

I was fully afraid now, but I was also furious that he was menacing us and scaring my friend. I dropped her arm, marching forward with wrath in my eyes and said, “Get out of here before we call the cops!”

At my approach he turned and bolted back into the bushes. I whipped around and zipped back toward my friend, grabbing her arm and power walking us out of there. We arrived at the nearest business and darted inside, conveying what had just happened in garbled snippets.

The workers were outraged to hear our story. They let me call my nana to tell her where we were, then asked if we’d like to call the police. I shook my head. I emphatically did not want to deal with the police.

In the safety of the store my fear had started to feel ridiculous. It was probably just some bored prankster.

As we waited for my nana my friend quietly admitted she would rather liked to have called the cops. I apologized for not asking. We lapsed into silence. She said, “I can’t believe you went toward him.”

I couldn’t either. I didn’t remember planning on it, only I wanted to be between him and my friend. “Do you think he was crazy or was it just a prank?”

She shook her head. She didn’t know either. All these years later I still don’t really know what happened that night. If he was on a dare, or cosplaying Tarzan for fun, or if he was unwell. A lot of the details have hazed over with time but the utter dissonance of seeing a man in a loin cloth pop out of the bushes is seared into me.

I also remember back then, in a whisper both scandalized and fascinated, my friend admitting, “I saw his penis.”

[helluvathings]

It's interesting that the episode description straight up warned for Stolas lacking self-awareness. It's more or less a confirmation that Stolas and his character arc aren't finished, and between that and the content of the last couple episodes, I ended up going back through the series and looking at the path he's taken so far. Warning now, there's a lot of 'deconstructing' Stolas at first, but I do think he's on a positive trajectory and the set up serves as foundation for future character development.

Anyway for anyone interested in a from-the-beginning rundown of Stolas's arc, full post is below.

From his first conversation with Blitzø, you have Stolas in his bath making the favors for favors offer, while Blitzø is working and in a life-or-death situation. The language Stolas is using is too formal; it causes communication issues, and Blitzø has to tell him to stop using "rich person talk." The scene that sets up their whole dynamic is 1. Stolas establishing the transaction (given he could've straight up punished Blitzø for stealing or just taken back the book, this isn't bad; it just is), 2. Stolas at leisure while Blitzø's job has him in danger, and 3. the class/education difference resulting in Blitzø having difficulty understanding what Stolas is saying.

Move forward to Loo Loo Land. The language Stolas uses with Blitzø gets a lot of attention already, as does Stolas's rather poor grasp of social cues/difficulty seeing outside his own perspective causing him to clash with Octavia. One point I don't see raised as often is that Stolas hiring Blitzø to spend time together, when he doesn't need a bodyguard, and then sexualizing Blitzø while he does his job, is both condescending, and doesn't show much respect for what Blitzø actually does. He pays him more or less to put on a show, so Stolas can indulge a fantasy of them having a relationship (not because he's evil, because he doesn't know better).

Then you've got Stolas in the newest episode, getting annoyed with Blitzø for saying he thought Stolas couldn't be hurt because he was immortal. That if I.M.P. could handle Striker, Stolas surely could. Stolas's sarcastic, "It's not an imp's place to protect a Goetia, is it?" comes across different when considering Stolas literally once hired them as mock bodyguards. It just... escapes him, why Blitzø would think the idea of Stolas needing their help is outrageous. Never mind how clear Stolas's rescue in Truthseekers made their power disparity. Stolas often has trouble putting himself in other people's shoes, and it shows here.

The Harvest Moon Festival brings in Striker, who's basically a "class problems" mouthpiece, exaggerated for emphasis. He even remarks directly on how Stolas's treatment of Blitzø can look from the outside. There's also the episode's opening bedroom scene, where Stolas's idea of flirty talk is copious use of microaggressions, plus the later scene with Blitzø snapping about Stolas not using his proper name. It's likely not an accident that these things happen the same episode Striker appears.

Truthseekers has "impish little plaything," with honorable mention to Stolas pinching Blitzø's cheek and scolding I.M.P. like children. But it also has Blitzø's vision all but screaming how Stolas makes him feel. On the one hand, it's Stolas who brings him back to himself. He washes away the muck. He's something beautiful amidst the ugliness. But he's on a pedestal, he has Blitzø in chains. He has shadow Blitzøs fanning him like servants, and Blitzø stumbles away from him blind and mute, smothered by feathers.

Ozzie's is actually good for Stolas's development, because he gets his first reality check when Blitzø makes it clear he thinks Stolas only wants sex. (It also shows how Stolas feels about Blitzø behind the bad erotic-novel scripts he's been using, which is the first time the audience sees this outright). After that, Stolas realizes his relationship with Blitzø was problematic. He sees the transaction and gets rid of it, and he senses something off with his behavior that has him start calling Blitzø by name and stopping with the 'plaything' type remarks.

But the past two episodes have made it evident he'd made those realizations in a vacuum. His broader class awareness is basically nonexistent, and when Blitzø tries raising the issue, he groups Blitzø with Striker by default, as if any criticism of his status/wealth/privilege is unreliable and antagonistic toward him specifically. He refuses to sincerely consider that Blitzø isn't merely judging him, and that he might be saying something with legitimate basis.

The Circus is especially interesting. Aside from the commentary underlying the 'buying Blitzø' plot, the episode shows Stolas getting scolded by Paimon like a dog for showing respect to an imp; that likely wouldn't have been an isolated incident. It's played somewhat for humor ("I'm so good at daddying"), but it also shows why he'd have so much trouble with things like microaggressions. He has literally been trained to hold himself above others. And just going off the way Stolas is framed at Stella's party, isolated and alone, being laughed at by Stella and her friends, I suspect Stolas may see himself as a "good rich person," because he doesn't seem to fit well with the Goetia either; he's laughed at and bullied, he lacks privilege in his own ways. He identifies more with other demons than his own class--and it blinds him, I think, to the fact that he is still part of his class, and isn't immune to the problems that come with that.

Even in Seeing Stars, there's the moment with Stolas all but strangling that poor butler and hardly seeming to notice. In an episode that's almost entirely focused on father-daughter relationships, that still gets tossed in. Regarding the Octavia plot, Stolas lacking self-awareness comes up again; it's understandable that he's distracted with the divorce, and we do see him try to resolve the issue, but it feels like a quiet alarm indicating hey, you might have a recurring problem where your daughter is concerned.

Western Energy is another 'Striker shouting that class issues matter in this show' moment. While I think Stolas going the 'well, you're part of the system, so you can't complain' route when Striker tries bringing it up is loosely relevant, I also don't blame him for that one. Poor guy is being tortured, he deserves some slack. Oops, in my opinion, shows Stolas at his best; he's just been turned down by Ozzie, but he still sticks around and helps. We even see how sincerely happy he is when Fizz returns. It's a good example of how decent Stolas can be beneath it all, as well as his sense of romance appearing in a healthier way.

Then come Full Moon and Apology Tour, where most of the Stolas subtext gets screamed and/or bitterly snapped in his face by Blitzø. It's stated directly by the main character that those things matter, in a way that imo portrays Blitzø as at least partially sympathetic. And of course the Apology Tour episode description, yelling it for the folks in back.

What all this is trying to say is: 90% of Stolas's time on screen has set him up to have a 'getting more self aware' arc. I see a lot of accusations of the show babying Stolas, but I think it's more that it hasn't gotten around to doing what it wants with Stolas. There are 4 seasons. We're in the second. We've had Stolas's post-Ozzie's revelation, and now he's getting a lot more "you're part of the problem" feedback thrown his way. It's implied Octavia is going to contribute to that as well.

Anyway!! My personal guess so far is that if the "loses his powers and/or titles" theory that's been going around has any merit, that's going to instigate the start of actual, substantial change. Will that actually happen? No idea. But Stolas's flaws have been as articulated and developed as Blitzø's, and at this point, if the consequences aren't explored in the same way, it'll be dropping a ball that's already well in the air. I also think this isn't going to be a "fixed by the end of season 2" thing. Stolas problably won't appear again until Mastermind, and then there's just Sinsmas. There isn't time for him to change in two episodes. There is, however, time for him to have some big realizations, and for the change to happen next season.

[spotsandsocks]

Cover art by @ronordmann it’s beautiful and I love it (and you 💕)

This Must Be Love 5.7k of fluff love and confessions.

Three days before Valentine’s Day Buck has plans to help Chris with his homework, except the evening takes an unexpected turn when Chris has some unexpected questions about love and that leads to something else unexpected.

The living room table is all set up and ready, Buck’s stash of pens, pencils and various school based items has increased ten fold over the last few years. He even has a special box for all the stuff Chris needs when he’s doing homework at his loft. Today the box is out and he’s ready, primed and even keen to get some homework done. 

It’s ironic reallly homework was never his thing, Maddie always had to drag him through it. Buck’s lucky Chris is still relatively motivated to do his. He’s double checked the equipment all laid out twice when there’s a knock on his door. Right on time.

An enthusiastic pull at his front door reveals his two favourite people and he greets them with a smile.

“Gentlemen, Buck’s House of Homework awaits you.”

“Buck.” Chris sounds exasperated and rolls his eyes as he walks past heading straight for the table but there’s a glimpse of a smile for him despite the welcome.  Behind his son Eddie’s own eyes roll, his face a picture of parental patience worn thin.

Buck wonders if either of them know how similar they look when they do that. Eddie mouths “bad mood” and shakes his head to accompany a shrug that declares he has no idea what’s wrong with the boy in front of him.

With a slight sigh no doubt at the teenage-ness of it all  Eddie walks over to Chris to say goodbye.

“Ok I’m going. I will be back in a couple of hours and then if you have done your homework.” He ruffles Chris' hair and gets an annoyed jerk of protest as Chris moves his head away in an attempt to dislodge his dad’s hand. 

That makes Eddie roll his eyes again but while Buck sniggers softly he does feel sorry for his friend , it’s tough adjusting to an almost teenager. Giving up on his son Eddie looks at Buck to continue “and if you haven’t eaten too many snacks” Buck throws him an outraged look at the suggestion. “ I will treat us all to pizza.”

“I can cook us something.” Buck offers quickly because he loves cooking for them, it makes him feel like they’re a family. “I don’t mind.”

Eddie get a soft look on his face as he closes the gap between them and once close enough his hand lifts and then it’s gently holding onto Buck’s arm. It lands just at the edge of his T-shirt sleeve so Eddie’s palm is half on his skin. Buck tries hard not to notice how warm and strong his hand feels.

 “You don’t have to.” 

“I know but I like to, cooking’s fun but  usually I can’t be bothered if it's just me so…’” He finishes on a hopeful note.

“Ok, if you’re sure then a home cooked meal with my boys sounds perfect.” The smile on Eddie’s face widens.

Buck looks at him in admiration. God he looks so happy, so much lighter than he has for all the years Buck’s known him. He’s so proud of Eddie, of how far he’s come. The smile on his own face is instinctive, mirroring the one he’s receiving, while at the same time he tries to damp down on all the feelings the words ‘home’ and ‘my boys’ stir in his chest. 

Instead of dwelling on all that he pushes Eddie towards the door, “Now go. Go do your things. We’ll be right here.”

Eddie does as he’s told but turns to look at him from the doorway. He pauses, so Buck has the full weight of his warm brown eyes on him for a handful of heartbeats. Just enough time for him to tell himself to stop it; stop reacting, stop hoping, stop wanting. He doesn’t think stop loving. He knows he can’t, he’s tried.

That look gets him every time. You’d think he’d be used to them by now. Eddie doesn’t mean anything by it. He can’t possibly. He shouldn’t let those big brown eyes do anything to him, least of all get his hopes up.

Eddie’s eyes slip from Buck to Chris and then back again, “Be good, both of you. Especially you.” That last bit is accompanied by a quick wink in Buck’s direction that spikes his heart rate instantly. 

Then he’s gone and Buck left staring at the door, he turns, a huge sigh slipping out unheeded and finds Chris sat at his kitchen table staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You ok bud?”

Chris goes “humph”, a noise Buck’s never heard from him before. Looks like Eddie’s right and Chris is in a mood. He decides to ignore it and goes to the fridge to get some drinks for them. If he glances over at his almost teenage companion a few times, just to check which way the wind is blowing mood wise, at least he’s subtle about it.

He takes one final glance over the rim of his juice then risks it.

“You good Chris?” 

“Fine.” 

Not entirely convincing. He pushes his luck a little further. “You sure?”

This time Chris sighs and dramatically drops his pen on the table.

“Buck?” The boy's eyes are fixed on the table. There’s a weighty pause then Chris looks up, right at him and says,

“What’s it like being in love?”

Unfortunately for him, he’d just taken a mouthful of juice so the question reduces Buck to a coughing and spluttering mess.

That came completely out of left field. At least he hopes it did. Shit. What if Chris has worked it out. What if Chris has noticed how he feels about his dad and worse what if he tells Eddie and what if they both end up hating him for it. What if he loses them, what if, what if, what if….

Chris is looking at him, he has to get it together. Grabbing a cloth to wipe at his face and dab the stains from his top Buck says, “Um.”

Which is marvelously articulate and not at all suspicious. So he tries again and this time manages something a little more like an actual sentence.

“So I’m…um  why why um… why would you think I know that?”

Chris looks at him like he’s stupid. “Uh cos you're old, and haven’t you been in love like loads of times?” 

Oh thank god, his heart rate crashes back to normal. That’s ok then. He can handle that.

He crosses the room to sit with Chris.

“No, not really, definitely not lots of times anyway.” 

Counting backwards from Eddie he thinks maybe three, is that too many or not enough for a man his age. It’s nowhere near his other number, that one has never had a lot to do with love but that’s hardly something to be discussing with Christopher.

Christopher’s question is tricky but he tries to be helpful. “And I think love feels different each time and different for different people, so really it’s difficult to explain.” 

Chris looks extremely unimpressed by this piece of news.

“That’s not helpful. How am I supposed to know then!?”

Buck chuckles at the plaintive question but Chris has a point.

“It’s tricky. Sorry bud, no easy answers.” He waits a few seconds. “So am I allowed to ask why you want to know, might help me be more specific?”

Chris looks away, confirming Buck’s suspicions so he keeps his voice gentle, “Maybe you like someone? Or maybe you think you do?”

Chris’s eyes dart back to his then down. His voice is quiet.

“Maybe.”

“Is this about Valentines?”  It’s the 14th in three days. 

Chris’ nod is so small it would be easy to miss.

“You thinking about maybe giving someone a card?” Buck’s tries to keep the ‘aw that’s adorable’ look off his face but Chris’ little face screws up, and damn it, he’s still so cute although Buck would never dare say that these days. 

Eventually Christopher reluctantly commits to another “Maybe.”

After a second failed attempt to catch his eye Buck says “You don’t have to sign it you know.”

This time Chris sighs and says with a hit of irritation “I know that!” Buck waits. “but I don’t even know if I like them or if I like them. It’s so confusing!”

Oh. Buck can identify with that. His mouth twists into a small sympathetic smile.

“Yup, it certainly is.”

“Even for grown ups?” Chris sounds horrified.

“Absolutely!” 

To be honest he's pretty sure it never actually gets any easier or if it does he’s still waiting for it to happen.

“So how am I supposed to know if you guys can’t even tell! It’s impossible!!”

Chris sounds quite emotional and Buck doesn’t exactly panic but he doesn’t want to do  the wrong thing either. 

“Maybe we should wait for your dad? You, you should probably talk to him about this. Not me.”

Chris pulls another one of  those ‘are you stupid faces’.

“Why not? I wanna talk to you. You’re like my second dad anyway.”

Buck’s heart stops. 

“Chris…” his own voice is breathless and barely audible even in the silence of his loft.

The boy before him has no idea he’s said anything remarkable, he looks up, confused at the change of his tone. “What? That’s what dad says. He says it all the time.”

Buck's brain is struggling to keep up. He’s rather stunned by Chris' casual comments. He has to swallow before he can ask,

“H he does?”

“Yup” Chris doesn’t even look up this time just does his next math problem like he hasn’t rocked Buck’s entire world.

“He’s always telling people about you, my teacher, the neighbours. He even told my dentist about you last week, when she was going on about enamel. Dad said “Buck already told him that but who listens to their dad!” Chris says it in an pretty good impression of Eddie, then mutters to himself “embarrassing! I listen, just don’t wanna brush sometimes.”

Buck blinks rapidly. Had Eddie really said that? About him?

“Anyway,” Chris carries on oblivious to his inner turmoil “tell me what it’s like being in love.”

“Um” he wants to say it’s like this, your heart going crazy because you think for just a second they might love you back. 

It’s wanting to be part of someone’s life so badly your whole body aches with it,  that you want to belong to them and have them choose you back. 

It’s a voice you turn to with a smile already on your face because you know the face you’ll see will be your favourite one.

It’s brown eyes, that see all of you and smile.

He doesn’t say any of that. How could he, so he stalls until he can find words better suited to a young man with questions about his heart.

Proud his voice sounds so normal Buck buys himself time.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea.” 

Chris looks at him suspiciously but Buck grabs some card and pens and waves them enthusiastically.

“Why don’t you make a Valentine’s card and we can talk about it. Then at the end if you decide you like them like that , you’ll have something to give them.

Chris eyes narrow thoughtfully, “Ok, it’s not a terrible idea but you have to make one too.”

He laughs, it’s either that or sigh, “ I haven’t got anyone to give one to.”

Chris gives him a look he doesn’t quite understand and mutters something under his breath again, this time Buck only catches a few words but “could” and “tried” are clear enough.

“What was that?” He studies his companion with a slight frown, he’s feeling a little confused by surly pre teen Chris, his sympathy for Eddie is increasing dramatically by the minute.

“Nothing, but I’m only making one if you do.”

It’s not worth arguing so he gives in , “Ok, if you insist.” 

He has no idea what he’ll do with his card but if it helps Chris work through some stuff he’s all for it. 

“Let’s finish your homework then we can get creative.”

Read the rest on AO3

[mrsackermannx]

Lourdes, I need more of your delicious Geto thoughts-

Do you think he would be secretive about your relationship or enjoy pda? Also how would he feel about others trying to flirt with you? What are some of the things he likes to do to let others know you’re his?

what it’s like dating geto suguru <3

tags: sfw, kissing, pda (slightly suggestive).

an: JAZZ YES LETS GO! this isn’t even all of it🤭

I think it’s subtle but not secretive at all, like when people look at you two for longer than a few seconds the love is so intense and unwavering it’s ridiculously obvious and hard to look away because of how in sync you two are. He’s smitten and I don’t think he hides it at all, it shows in his pda in fact! His pda to me is very much, hugs from behind with sweet kisses to your temple/cheekbone/cheek and or the corner of your mouth, he also does that thing where he loops your scarf around your neck and pulls you close with it so he can kiss your lips/forehead. You’re always coiled together somehow, like he loves where you sit with your back against his chest so he can put his chin on your head, hands resting on your thighs (his hair smells amazing🤭). He’s quite clingy really, his hair is always tickling you and falling around you in long silky curtains because he’s always wrapped around you, he’s so broad and his embrace feels so safe. He always smells so ridiculously good too, like vanilla and something a little oaky. But also like fresh soap ALL THE TIME.

As far as others, I think he gets playfully jealous because they’d never be any reason for you to look elsewhere😌. He knows this. But I think if people were flirting too obviously, he’d walk over, loop an arm around your waist and be like, “hey, beautiful, ready to go home?” all smirking, tucking his hair behind his ear before ducking to give you a sweet kiss. I do also think he’d be kind of outrageous sometimes if he’d had a few drinks; he’d walk over and hug you from behind, a hand sliding up to rest just under your breasts in the centre. You’re all like, “suguru! stop! ah, sorry this is my partner!” whilst giggling into his touch, your body is as much his as it is yours. Your cheeks heat as he maintains eye contact with the person flirting with you as he kisses along the curve of your neck until he reaches your ear to whisper a silky, “mm, let’s go home.”

Things he likes to do to let others know is definitely that you guys have subtle matching things, like scarves, earrings, necklaces especially! Like a simple silver necklace that matches and hangs from each of your necks, I think he likes to hold hands too, and carry all your bags. His phone background is either deffo one of you in a robe on one of your spa getaways together, glass in hand, his large hand smushing both of your cheeks whilst you laugh, or it’s you all dolled up sat opposite him in a restaurant, with your eyes half-lidded, looking at him with all the love in the world. People are always shocked when they see it, but he’s so quiet and gentle, that it’s not unexpected. He smiles proudly as he says, “that’s my fiancé/partner. I know, she’s absolutely beautiful.”

He also loves to pick you up from work, flustering everybody because he always whispers in your ear, and you always look so flustered, that or your attention is immediately captivated by him. (He brings flowers sometimes too, or food- your favourites). You can’t take your eyes of one another. Loving Suguru is intense, quietly intense. Sometimes you can barely be apart, because he feels like home too much, so calm, so soft. And his arms feel like home. Hugging you hello with his hand cupping your head as he whispers a soft, “Okaeri” (welcome home)

Geto overall as a partner. He dotes on you, rubbing your hands when it’s cold out, wrapping your scarf around you, holding your umbrella, always gazing at you with so much love. Always smiling when he asks, “I didn’t ask what you’d eaten, I asked if it was something you enjoyed?” When you tell him no, especially because you didn’t eat with him, he’s leaning over for a kiss. “Then let’s go to your favourite place for dinner.” This man knows everything and anything about you, and you to him. He loves long deep conversations about everything from your childhood, to your first friendships, your family, your deepest desires, fears, he commits every day in how he loves you, treasures you, continues to learn you. “Arguments” with him don’t even last more than an hour, he never raises his voice either, he’s an amazing communicator, always calm, always making you feel heard, they happen so rarely because you talk about everything and you know you’re in it for life. Being with Geto feels the most like being yourself because you can just be, and he can just be, you love each other unconditionally.

[foreveranevilregal]

Encantober Day 1: Sunset

Pepa sat down on the hillside overlooking the meadow. Today was easier than usual. She had been tasked with drying out a field that had gotten flooded when the river grew too full. It had been a rainy spring. Not her fault, of course. Okay, maybe some of it was her fault. Her boyfriend, Carlos, had broken up with her, and she took it pretty hard. But not all of it! Not all weather was her fault. She kept trying to tell people, and no one listened…

Thankfully, drying things out didn’t tax her as much as making it rain did. All she had to do was think happy thoughts and the sun came beaming down, strengthened by her gift. Usually, she’d think of her siblings. Or if there was a cute boy that she had her eye on, that worked too. When she was younger, it was animals that did the trick. She had no shortage of happy thoughts. It was the sad ones that were harder.

She’d settled in with her book, opening it eagerly. It was a new book, and she was dying to see how it would end.

A couple chapters in, she felt a shadow blocking the sunlight. Peering up, she saw a guy she didn’t recognize. Someone new, in their town? That didn’t happen often.

“Mind if I join you?” He spoke up.

“Go right ahead.” She folded the corner of her page and closed the book, setting it on the grass beside her.

“Hope I didn’t interrupt you reading.” He sat down next to her.

“No, it’s fine.” She was dying to know what happened next, but this new guy intrigued her. “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new here?”

He nodded. “My family just moved here. My name’s Félix.”

“Pepa.” She took his proffered hand, shaking it. His hand felt strong, rough. Pepa felt sparks go through her that had nothing to do with her gift.

 “It’s nice to meet you, Pepa. I was exploring around and came upon this little meadow here.” He held a hand in front of his face conspiratorially. “To be honest, I needed a break from my little siblings. They drive me crazy sometimes.”

Pepa laughed at the comment. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Five. And I’m the oldest.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “Do you have siblings?”

She nodded. “A brother and sister, but we’re triplets, so no one is really the oldest. Well, Julieta acts like she is, but she’s only like five minutes older. Can’t have gained that much wisdom during that time.”

His laughter was one of the most beautiful sounds she’d ever heard. “Oh, I’m sure she gained so much wisdom. Those five minutes were very important.”

Pepa gasped and shoved him reflexively.

He fell over. For a second, Pepa was afraid she’d hurt him, but he sat up like nothing was wrong. “Hey, us older siblings have to stick together!” He defended himself.

“She’s not-“ Pepa began, outraged, but stopped short at the grin that cracked on his face.

“I’m kidding.” He shook his head good-naturedly. “Lighten up, Pepa.”

Those words struck dangerously close to home. How many times had the other kids told her the same thing? How many times had her mamá warned her to rein in her emotions? She blinked rapidly to quell the tears. Clear skies, clear skies, clear skies…

Félix cleared his throat. “Okay, that was a bad joke. Sorry.” He offered her a sheepish smile. “Anyway…you said you had a brother too?”

“Bruno.” Her voice was flat. She’d managed to stop the spiral, but it always took her a little bit to pull herself out of a funk. “His name’s Bruno.”

“Bruno.” Félix scratched his head. “I haven’t met him yet.”

Pepa barked a laugh. “I don’t imagine you would have. He hardly ever leaves his tower.”

“Tower?”

Pepa gestured towards their casita. It was barely visible from this distance, but one could still make out the distinctive shape of a tower.

“Okay, Bruno has a tower. Why not?”

Pepa appreciated his nonchalance. People weren’t so accepting of Bruno. Granted, Félix hadn’t met him yet, but Pepa had a feeling he’d be different. He was so friendly; she just couldn’t imagine him being mean to Bruno.

“Wait…” Félix appeared to be puzzling something out. “My papá said that’s where the Madrigals live. Are you a Madrigal? Is it true what people say, about the magic gifts?” He sounded genuinely curious, his voice lacking the usual tone of suspicion.

“Yes, I’m a Madrigal,” Pepa said simply, ignoring the second question. “Tell me about your family. I feel like we’ve just been talking about mine.”

Caught off guard by her abruptness, Félix shrugged. “Well, they don’t have magic gifts, but they’re still pretty cool. Most of the time. My papá is named Roberto, my mamá is Antonia, and then there’s my siblings: Felipe…”

If Pepa said she remembered all the names he listed off, she’d be lying. She was too focused on the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, the excitement in his voice as he told her about all his family members. It was clear he loved them very much, and she found that sweet.

Suddenly, he stopped talking. “Is it just me, or did the sun get brighter?” He shielded his eyes, glancing up at the sky.

Horrified, Pepa followed his eyes. It was true. She’d become so happy, enthralled by his presence, that she’d unwittingly made the sun shine more brightly. “Sorry,” she apologized, rubbing the end of her braid nervously.

“Why are you sorry?” He asked, confused. “It’s not like you control the sun.” He tried to meet her eyes, which bored firmly into the ground. “Wait- do you control the sun?” The realization seemed to dawn on him. “Is that your gift? You control the sun?”

He sounded awed, not scared. Pepa took that as a good sign. “Technically, I affect the sun,” she corrected. “Other weather too. It’s connected to my emotions.”

Her cheeks grew red. Why did she admit that? Félix had a way of disarming her. She was in trouble if he kept going like this.

But he seemed to take it in stride. “What does bright sunlight mean?” He pointed up at the still blazing sun.

“It means happiness.” A thin veil of fog enveloped Pepa, for which she was grateful.

“And the fog?” Félix observed her. “Wait, you’re blushing. Are you okay?” His eyebrows wrinkled concernedly.

She gave a noncommittal shrug. “Whatever I feel visibly manifests as various weather phenomena. My emotions are on full display for everyone all the time.” She swept her hand over her head. “You tell me if I’m okay.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” he deduced. He scooted closer to her. “That seems like… a lot.”

She scoffed. “You can say that again! Julieta got the most useful gift. She can heal people with her food. And Bruno, he sees the future. What do I get? Here, Pepa; why don’t you get a gift that makes you thunderstorm when you’re mad and rain when you’re sad? That’ll surely help the town!” She huffed. The cloud that had sprung up overhead weighed heavily on her.

Félix studied her. “And makes the sun shine when you’re happy,” he pointed out.

“What?” Pepa was still mired down in her turmoil.

“Earlier, when the sun was brighter, you said it was because you’re happy.” He reached out his hand towards her, placing it on the grass between them. “So it’s not all bad.”

“I suppose not,” she conceded. “It’s still dumb though. And a lot of pressure. You try dealing with the knowledge that the town’s crops depend on how you feel that year.”

“Because you’re so happy you’ll dry them out?”

“Try because if I’m too sad I’ll drown them.” Pepa hmphed. The corner of her lip curved upward though in recognition of his attempt to cheer her up.

“I see.” Félix tapped his chin thoughtfully. “Guess we’ll just have to make sure you stay happy.”

Again, the words she’d heard a million times before came out of his mouth. Once again, they lacked the tinge of cruelty that normally accompanied them. She peered over through her fingers to see him beaming at her. “Good luck with that.”

“I seem to be doing a pretty good job so far. You were happy earlier,” he noted with a smirk.

Pepa couldn’t help the smile that erupted on her face.

“There’s that beautiful smile,” Félix said. “Glad to see it again.”

Was he flirting with her? Pepa couldn’t believe it. Okay, lots of boys had flirted with her, but this one was different. He was special. She could feel it. With a start, she looked up to find the cloud had vanished and the sun had returned to its previous brightness; albeit far lower in the sky.

She cleared her throat. “It’s getting late.” She pointed towards the setting sun. “I should get back home before my mamá starts wondering where I am.”

“Of course.” Félix helped her up. “Wouldn’t want her to think you were out with a boy or something.” His lip quirked into a smile.

Oh, he was definitely flirting with her. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” She flashed him a coy smile. Two could play at that game.

They walked back together until he reached the street where his family lived. “Until next time, rayo de sol.” He waved goodbye.

The townspeople who were outside later said they’d never seen such a brilliant sunset.

[returnsandreturns]

“Buddy, I’ve gotten through most of the emotional pain from the breakup,” Foggy says, before he’s even got their door fully open, tossing himself onto his bed, “but can I be vulnerable with you right now?”

“Of course,” Matt says, amused, turning in his chair.

“I am—outrageously horny,” Foggy says, lowering his voice like somebody might hear them. He’s been holding this in but he’s got to talk about this with someone and Matt is legally obligated to be that person. They signed a contract and everything. “Like levels of horny I have never experienced. There’s something about being cut off from regular sex that makes you go fucking crazy.”

“I’m a light sleeper,” Matt says, dryly, blushing faintly in a way that Foggy normally loves. “I am extremely aware of how horny you are.”

He knew in his deepest heart of hearts that he probably wasn’t being stealthy but desperate times call for a truly record-breaking amount of masturbation.

“Oh my god,” Foggy says, laughing, grabbing a pillow and holding it over his face for a long moment, voice muffled when he says, “I’m so sorry that you’ve heard me jerking off. If it helps, it’s therapeutic.”

“It’s okay, man,” Matt says, getting up to take the pillow from him and sit on the edge of his bed, hand hovering nearby before patting Foggy gently on the arm. “I get it. Why don’t you just hook up with someone, though?”

“It feels like it’s too soon,” Foggy says, sighing, “but it really needs to happen because I’ve been imagining having sex with, like, everyone I interact with. It’s getting problematic.”

“What do you mean by everyone?” Matt asks, waiting through a few long quiet moments before he asks, incredulous, “With me?”

“I said everyone, didn’t I!” Foggy says, because if Matt’s been listening to him get off for a week, he might as well break down all the walls. “Don’t worry, though—I will eventually stop wondering what your sweat tastes like when you come back from the gym, just like I’ll stop thinking about all of my professors in various horrible porn scenarios.”

“. . .my sweat?” Matt asks, making a face.

“Don’t judge me, Murdock,” Foggy says, laughing. “My hormones are—eating my brain. I’m not going to hit on you, you’re just caught in the crossfire.”

He’s never bothered to come out to anybody—things just happen and sometimes they happen with surprising people and then you can add things like blowjobs to your list of personal skills—so choosing to come out to perfect, beautiful, extremely Catholic Matt by telling him that he’s been lusting over him is a real choice on his part. He always looks so shiny after he works out, though.

“So it’s just proximity?” Matt asks, sounding like he’s actually offended by it.

“Thinking you look lickable?” Foggy asks. “I think you've probably noticed but you have that impact on anybody with an ounce of sexual impulse, Matt. I try not to think about you like that because you’re important to me and also very pious and almost definitely exclusively into girls—”

Matt leans down to kiss him before Foggy can explain all the reasons he tries not to want to have sex with him and those reasons suddenly no longer exist. Nothing exists, actually, nothing but Matt’s mouth and their bodies when Matt moves to get closer, hovering over him when he eventually pulls back with a gasp.

“I’m kind of horny, too,” Matt says, softly.

“Let’s explore that,” Foggy says, guiding him back down.

[sl-newsie]

Behind Masks (Dr. Jonathon Crane x OC) Ch. 6: Sympathy Empathy

“Good morning, everyone.”

It’s group therapy and the new perky voice almost startles me. I look up from the crossword Edward gave me to see a young blonde therapist carrying a handful of roses. When she reaches me her eyes light up.

“Oh! You must be Calico! My name is Dr. Harleen Quinzel and I will be overseeing your group session today.”

“Hello. Um, why the roses?”

“This is to help tap into your empathy,” Dr. Quinzel explains and hands me a rose.

While the idea is inventive all I can think of is the deadly beauty behind the rose’s thorns. Ivy clearly loves this exercise since she's cradling her own rose and Nigma’s apparently trying to write a dozen flower riddles.

“So what are we supposed to do with them?” I ask as I twirl the rose.

Dr. Quinzel smiles brightly. “Give them to someone and tell them you care about them.”

Ivy rolls her eyes and ignores the instructions to continue babying her rose. However Edward jumps up right away and holds his rose up to me.

“Calico, may I offer my sincere apologies for your unfortunate predicament here. Personally I feel your young naive mind is far too valuable to be torn apart in this Hellhole.”

I take the rose and offer a weak smile. “Thanks, Ed. If it weren’t for you guys my mind might have turned to jello by now.”

“I won’t allow that.”

I turn around and find Crane standing behind me with what almost looks like annoyance at Nigma. The geek smiles and goes back to work on his riddles. I guess group therapy is over… but I didn’t get to do the activity. Unless-

I lift up my own rose to Crane, who looks at it apprehensively.

“What’s this for?”

“Dr. Crane, I want to say that despite your twisted methods of psychological treatment and outrageous experiments I think you are a very smart man with a hidden conscience, even if you disagree.”

He finally takes the rose, still looking deeply perplexed, and tucks it away in his pocket. “Calico, time to go.”

“Why not take her to the basement, hm?” Ivy jabs. “Make her your mindless puppet.”

Crane ignores her and drags me out before Dr. Quinzel can interrupt. 

“Why does Ivy keep mentioning the basement?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to stay out of, dear.” He opens the gate and scoffs. “Why on Earth do you subject yourself to boorish group exercises?”

“It was just a rose, Crane. No need to flatter yourself. I could have given it to anyone.”

“But you gave it to me.”

“Because you happened to be closest,” I say simply.

We enter the operating theater once again. I’ve lost count of how many experiments Crane’s performed but so far I’ve had to endure endless hours of criticism and shouting from hallucinations of my parents. Sometimes they appear as fuzzy visions that try to slap and mock me, sometimes all the toxin does is cause their shouting to ring in my ear. As usual I step up to wait next to the platform while Crane prepares today’s dose-

“Ow!”

A sharp pain jabs into my side. I look down and see a needle poking through my jumpsuit.

“What happened?” Dr. Crane asks without looking up.

“Got stabbed. Medical syringe by the looks of it.”

He stops working. “Wait. What color liquid was in the syringe?’

I look back at the needle and shrug. “Green.”

Crane’s head jerks up and he gets closer to look at the needle I’m referencing. “Oh God. That’s my newest toxin.” Suddenly he grabs my wrists and leads me to the wall. “Calico, you need to stand back. If you lie down it will take longer to filter through. I’m going to bind your hands so you don’t harm yourself.”

Why is he so shaken up? “I’ve dealt with fear before-”

“No, this dose is different. I haven’t finished working out the kinks. So far the test subjects have shown fear towards the things- or shall I say the people they favor.”

His words mull through my head. “So it reverses feelings of affection?”

Crane takes a minute to answer. “You could say so. Yes.”

Interesting. A toxin that turns love into fear. It’s cruel. Part of me admires Crane for wanting to fix it. Oh well. It can’t be as bad as any other dose I’ve-

“Pathetic. Lying. Ignorant.”

Th- That voice. It’s Crane’s voice. But he didn’t say it-

“Callie, Callie, the world’s biggest disappointing psychologist,” the voice growls again with delight. 

Now I see it. It’s Dr. Crane, but it’s not. He’s standing in the shadowed corner and waves a scornful finger at me.

“You’re not real,” I try to say in a determined voice. It’s just like any other hallucination-

“I’m not like any hallucination, dear. I can hear your thoughts. You like this, don’t you? You like being my lab rat. Getting special treatment. But you’re just like any other warm body with a pulse for me to torture.”

No! He’s not- It’s not right. I hate it here! Having no connection to the outside, being forced to socialize with Ivy and Nigma, having to face those intriguing eyes every afternoon- No. I don’t like special treatment? This psycho is torturing me! Despite it being all for science… No!

Crane’s shadowy figure looms closer and I back up until the cold concrete presses against me, squeezing my eyes shut. I’ve dealt with fear… Why does this one feel different?!

“Calico, look at me.”

It’s Crane. The real one. Right? It sounds like the real one.

A warm hand gently grabs each of my shoulders. “Whatever you see is not real. It will never be real.”

I keep my eyes shut and shake my head. “How can you promise that?”

“Because I don’t hate you,” the doctor replies sternly.

I huff sarcastically at his words. “Good to know.”

“I’m serious.”

“Am I?” The figure in the corner asks. “Or am I just lying to make you more compatible? It’s worked so far.”

“Shut up!” I bark.

“I didn’t say anything,” the real Crane says in a confused tone.

“Not you. The other you.” I nod my head to the hallucination.

“You see a different version of me?” Crane does little to hide his surprise. “The toxin is twisting your mind to make it seem that I hate you.”

“No shit, genius!” I hiss.

By now the shadowy figure is looming over me. The tattered image of Crane shows glowing eyes as though a demon is staring through my soul. Of all people to hallucinate, why him? Perhaps it’s because I have no one else to have any amount of affection for. Granted I don’t own any hint of love for him, nor anyone. But the toxin’s effects dig out even my deepest thoughts that show my respect for him.

“How long does the toxin take to die out?” 

“It should almost be done by now,” Dr. Crane says, still staring at me.

He’s right. The dark shadow’s taunts are fading and those demon eyes along with them. But that doesn’t erase the memory. 

“There you are.” Crane’s voice pulls me from my thoughts and somehow soothes me. “Your eyes aren’t feral now. That’s it, deep breaths.” He slowly takes my arm to pull me up and lead me to the platform. “You should sit down now. I’ll check your vitals before giving you the proper dose.”

Dear God. Off of one poison and onto the next. If it weren’t for the last dose’s fatigue draining my energy I’d argue. Instead I follow his instructions and sit down before my legs give out. No doubt I’ll sleep heavily tonight.

“First your pulse.”

The doctor pulls up my sleeve and presses two fingers to my wrist. After a minute he jots down some notes and goes on to flash a light in my eye.

“Your reflexes are still active. How do you feel?”

“Like I just ran a marathon,” I reply, staring blankly at the wall behind him.

“I’ll arrange for a nutrient tablet.” 

Crane pulls out the selected syringe and inserts it into my arm. Once again I’m faced with my parents yelling at me to improve.

“Calico Prentiss, you are a disgrace to our family!” Dad roars.

Compared to the terror I just experienced ten minutes ago this is child’s play.

“Based on your reaction I assume you’ve begun to overcome your Atychiphobia?” Crane comments.

“Slowly, yes.”

The doctor writes down more observations and I can tell there’s something else on his mind.

“It’s been bugging me. Why is it you’ve never been with anyone? Mommy and daddy prevented you from dating?” he asks with hidden mockery.

I roll my eyes. “Quite the opposite, actually. They tried to set me up with any rich snob they could find. After they died I tried dating again. People tell me it’s fun but it’s not enjoyable at all when the people I meet don’t know a gun from a stapler.”

“So you’re attracted to intelligence,” Crane says, not bothering to look up from his clipboard.

I’ve never thought of it that way. Sure, being around smart people is a given perk. But actually having attractiveness to them, that actually explains why I’ve never dated much.

“I suppose I am.”

He hums in response and goes on to pack up his equipment. Another day, another toxin.

Bang! Bang!

The sound of someone pounding against the metal door to my cell jolts me from a deep sleep. In a frantic state I jump up and find- Crane? Huh. Why would he be down here at this time of night? The only time he visits is for experiments.

Bang! He slams his head into the door and grips the bars. 

“Jesus! What-? Dr. Crane, are you ok?”

Something’s amiss. I’ve seen Crane go crazy over watching me go through his toxins but this… I’ve never seen him this berserk. Almost like his mind is miles away.

“Not here.” The doctor finally looks up at me and I see a mix of pure terror and excitement in his disturbed blue eyes. “Not here, Calico. He’s not in right now…”

His eyes tell a wild story, shifting all around as if he’s seeing something I’m not. When he does make direct eye contact Crane almost seems to ask for help.

“Hey! Get back here!” A woman’s voice shouts.

Crane jerks his head at the voice and gives me one last silent plea before sprinting off down the dark hallway. Where-? What-? I have so many questions! I can’t just sit here!

I attempt to try and pick the lock just as an approaching flashlight beam blinds me. A woman in a police uniform walks up cautiously. When she sees me her eyes go wide.

“Oh my God! Isley was right! Crane does have a patient hidden back here!”

“What’s going on?” I ask urgently.

“My name is Detective Montoya. We’re here to investigate a call from Batman. Something about the basement.”

“I knew there was something in there but Dr. Crane never told me.”

Montoya sighs heavily and starts to pick the lock on my cell. “We found evidence that Dr. Crane has been dumping an unknown chemical into Gotham’s water supply. He has now been removed from the Arkham staff due to a sudden decline in mental health. How long have you been down here?”

Good question. How long have I been down here? I lost count after a month.

“I don’t know. Can’t see the sun.”

“I’ve heard of solitary confinement but this is inhumane.” Montoya opens the door and places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Has he done anything to you? Touched you? Abused you?”

Do I tell her about the experiments? After all, they weren’t as harmful as I expected. If anything, addressing my past has only helped me more than hurt me. Besides, Crane already got sacked. He’s done for.

“No. He just locked me up because a corrupt judge wanted me to be kept quiet.”

The policewoman shines her light ahead and leads me up the stairs. “You have nothing to worry about, honey. Crane can’t hurt you anymore. Seems to me like you’re just as sane as I am.”

I shake my head. “I was never supposed to be here.” At this point who’s to say what is sane? A month ago I would have called everyone in this asylum crazy. But after talking with Ivy and Nigma I realize now that even crazy people can be nice. I daresay they might even be more humane than sane people.

“Don’t worry,” Montoya assures me. “I’m going to talk to Gordon about this and get you a proper attorney. In your case I suggest Rachel Dawes.”

Okie dokie.

[kahlanmars]

BAD FEELING part. 25

Hiii.

Note: This chapter contains SMUT. We are all adults so it's okay, but if you are a MINOR, or someone who's name is Elle and has to watch me in the eyes after this day for example, or you simply don't enjoy it, you can skip it. It doesn't change anything for the plot. It begins with the bold "He pins" and it ends with the bold "Kisses you".

MASTERLIST

taglist: @crimsonincursive

25. The offer

When you wake up two hours later Haymitch is in the shower, using his minutes of hot water per day. You close your eyes, feeling the sheets on your skin. The headache is gone, but you don’t want to get up and face the world right now. 

When Haymitch comes to the door, dressed only in a towel around his hips, you watch him with doe eyes. He has a surprisingly fit body for a forty year old who has not done a single physical activity for years except for… worrying, you suppose. His shoulders are strong and firm and while he does not have a six pack, his chest is solid. His arms are shaped and muscular. He has scars all over his body, but you don’t mind, you have yours. It proves he is a fighter, a victor.

Your mouth is watering. He is too handsome for his own good and you think you should celebrate your victory in the trial and suppress your mind from thinking about the people in the mission and your job.

«I say you noticed the toothbrush I sneaked out for you. You are here all the time, it’s only… Hey, like what you see, Sweetheart?» He smirks, noticing your ogling. You giggle and then pout a little when he doesn’t stop.

«Drop the towel and return to bed with me, Sir.» You order. To convince him better, you start to lower the zip in the uniform, slowly revealing your black bra and your underwear. His eyes widen and you just love his reaction.

«The drug in your system…» He begins, but you throw the uniform out of the bed and you practically toss him under you. He won’t be under you for much, you already know. 

«Is gone. I’m your Daisy now.» You reassure him with a kiss, and then another, and another one, until you start peppering kisses on his neck and chest.

«My Daisy…» He closes his eyes in complete pleasure under your caresses and for a minute you think you won this contest, but he starts talking again. «If Coin wants me, I have to go.»

«She has to get in line.» Your pout deepens. 

«Daisy.» He tries to laugh and to kiss your pout away - the very reason you have one, actually - but now you grow annoyed.

«If you don’t want me you can just tell me.»

«I think you noticed how much I want you, Gorgeous.» It’s your turn to smirk at his confession, «But I have to check on the mission. What if they have news?» 

«Nothing happened. Don’t you have a beeping thing? They beep if they need you, and you can’t go in otherwise.» You lean for another peck. «You can just as well stay with me.» You bite his lobe. «I can make you forget. Just a little pause from worrying.»  

He closes his eyes again and his hands are roaming through your body now, checking your thighs first and then keading your breasts, your ass, with so much strength you let out a moan. «You are so beautiful.» He whispers. «What did I do to have you?»

«I’m sure your life was full of sins and somebody chose me as the right torture.» You murmur against his ears, and offhanded with a pelvis hit he is obviously on top again.

«The sweetest torture.» 

He pins his knees to hover over you, tracing a line of wet kisses against your skin. He nuzzles your breasts and then your shoulders with his callous hands and you trap his thumb into your mouth. You bite him a little, letting him go with an outrageous “pop”. 

«Good girls don’t bite.» He reminds you. You look at him with big wide doe eyes, the most innocent look you have.

«And bad girls, sir?» You whisper, and you immediately feel how the word affects him. He’s got a thing for control in bed, he is the one who gives orders. You don’t always follow him blindly.

«Bad girls get punished.» He murmurs in your ear and you gasp in delight when he closes his hands around your neck, adding a bit of pressure. He would never do that without your consent, but you just adore it. He never hurts you, he knows how much he can press. 

«Say that you are mine.» He commands, his eyes are almost predatory, he is a wild animal right now. He looks at you like you are a delicious meal and he is about to eat you, to devour you. It’s intoxicating.

«Am I?» You ask, enjoying the weight on your body and the pressure on your throat. «But you don’t want me.» 

«Daisy…» He warns you, one of his hands going down between your legs to caress you before daring to give you a spank. «Is this mine?»

«I’m all yours.» You cry out, tears in your eyes from the sensitive spot. «My soul, my body, my lips.» 

He smiles, a real smile because your words are real, and he claims your mouth in a passionate and burning kiss, lips crashing onto each other. He frees your neck, kissing it and nuzzling his nose against it for a moment as an apology to your sore skin.

«Good girl.» He praises you, and you let out a moan. You admit you like a lot to be his precious good girl.

He goes down to give attention to your neglected breasts. He kisses the bra’s cleavage with care, cupping and touching them, until he grows bored and decides the brasserie is in the middle of him and his pleasure. He clasps it with a prowess you don’t really want to investigate, tossing it over the bed. 

«Do you promise you’ll never wear clothes again?» He begs between kisses over your flesh, and sometimes he bites. He traces circles with his tongue against your nipple.

«Everyone would see me.» You remind him, and immediately his grip tightens. You know your man. 

«Never.» He confirms and he finally is on his knees to take proper care of you. He slips a finger in you without any warning, and you just know he is about to rip your panties. You can’t afford it now.

«No! Toss them away.» You order, making him laugh. He chuckles and obeys nonetheless. 

«My beautiful, beautiful girl.» He licks and bites and kisses your core and you bite your lip trying not to scream. This man has talent with his tongue. He takes you to the culmination three times and just before the climax he draws back, with a smirk on his infuriating face. The third time you think you’ll have a heart attack. «So delicious, my favourite meal. I would eat you forever.»

«Please, Haymitch…» You beg, and you take his hair in a fist. 

«Please what, Princess?» He asks, playing dumb, a satisfied expression painted on him. He has never been so handsome, with his shining blue eyes, naked in his glory and ready for your beatitude.

«Please make me yours.» 

He suddenly is in you and dear heavens this is where he belongs. Between your legs, pumping into you like his life depends on it, while you break apart and you suppress a scream against his neck. He is not gentle, you’ll have bruises on your back and your ass because he squeezes too much, but it’s a good squeeze, oh so good, and you are not that kind yourself, scratching his back with your nails like you are a wild animal. 

«Let me see you, Sweetheart.» He searches your eyes and when you come with a cry, he follows you with his climax while he kisses you.

You watch him with such fondness he raises an eyebrow.

«What?»

«Nothing.» You dismiss it. «It’s just, even with this mess and the mission and the war, even if our life is in danger… when I look at you I feel like everything will be okay.»

He places a kiss on your shoulder. «Ain’t sure of many things but I’m damn sure I’ll protect you, Gorgeous.»

After the bliss, you lay on the bed again, your hair spread over the pillow and your body… you are not sure you can use your body right now, especially to walk. You have a dumb smile on your face, you already know, and you trace circles around his arm. 

«Are you sure you have to go?» You whine a little. You are aware a twenty something year old does not behave like that, this is a spoiled brat behaviour and you have not been raised like this, and yet you want him to stay at your commands. He doesn’t need to go outside, not when his hot girlfriend is willing to do whatever he wants. Other people would kill for something like that, wouldn’t they? 

…You are being irrational. You know he can’t. Especially when Coin hates you so much and Katniss is on the loose. She is begging for a reason to ground you again or even banish you, and she grows tired of Haymitch every day a little more. 

«Quite sure.» He leans for another kiss while he tries to zip his uniform, which is very hard if you are stopping his hands. «Sweetheart. C’mon.»

«Okay, then I guess I’ll wait for you.» You shrug. You can clean a little, your man is many things but “tidy” is not one of them and you used to be a housekeeper after all. A pretty good one, even.

«Don’t you have a job to do?» He asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Not anymore.

«I start tomorrow, they didn’t want any side effects of the drug.» You are assigned to your mother, as an assistant. The thought makes you want to puke, there is a specific reason why you didn’t choose that career and it’s because you don’t like births, or any indication of it. Still you know the herbs and it seemed the logical solution for your lack of job. You can’t have a day or two to think about your career, in District Thirteen. You don’t need a career, you need to be useful to the group.

«Okay, but don’t wait for me. Go to Effie or somewhere else.»

«Maybe.» You can’t even bear to think about it. The corridor between this room and yours is too long.

«Gorgeous, I really don’t mind being used as a stress-relief… in fact, please do it, but would you tell me what’s wrong?»

You don’t look him in the eyes, very busy staring at the grey sheets. It’s humiliating. «I’m scared.»

«Of the guards? Because I talked to them and-» The guards are another thing you don’t want to think about. The guard who dragged you is out there, and the others, the ones with the lizards, are too.

«Of the people. They will look at me and they will know I killed a boy from their home.» 

He stops getting dressed and climbs in the bed to cuddle you. Which is rare. «You don’t know that.»

«But I know. If… I never had to deal with this before. I didn’t meet the Capitol guy’s family. Clark’s family was dead when I landed in Thirteen, but here? I can come into the cafeteria and bump into Caius’s mom. And she has every right to hate me. He was a shitty person but he had a mother, he had a father… Maybe brothers and sisters and I killed him. And the kids at school! They will ask questions. They will think I’m not their teacher because I don’t love them anymore.» Your eyes are tearing and your lips are trembling, and you know you are acting like a child but you are weak in front of the man you love. You can bear being weak in front of someone who’ll never use it against you.

Haymitch kisses your cheek and strokes your hair. «Okay then, stay here forever.»

«You are very funny.» 

«We can share the toilet, share the bed, share the meals, share the clothes, share the underwear…»

«Haymitch! Gross!» You laugh a little but that fades soon. «I can’t go out. Please don’t make me go out. Just for today.»

«Don’t be a baby. I’ll come with you. To Effie, and then to Finnick because you will want to know how he is when you are in your right mind. I have to go to the nursery anyway, Marjorie wants to talk to me.»

You make a face. «I bet she does.»

«Jealousy is not a good look on you. She confirmed your story with Plutarch, you know?» Oh yeah, she did. She’s the one who lost, so you have to be good with her. The jealousy still stings. She may have lost now, but she has been in his mind for twenty four years. The other woman. 

Or, well, you are the other woman.

«Yeah, she is a perfect angel above us all. I saved her life, I can hate her as much as I want.» 

He rolls his eyes. «Get dressed.»

«Funny how men usually tell me the contrary.» You deadpan.

«Usually? Am I not the only man who slept with you?» He knows too much. Effie specifically told you one time not to reveal anything, because a mystery is sexier than the truth. And Effie Trinket is always right.

You wrap a lock of hair over your finger. «Doesn’t mean they didn’t try.» 

«I really don’t think I want to have this conversation.»

You flash him a smirk but you don’t deny him a kiss when in a blink he’s all over you again. «Oh, jealousy is such a good look on you.»

 

You manage to go to your room alone, at the end. Haymitch is with President Coin, discussing something you really want to know - because the people you love are still in the Capitol - but you are forbidden to go with him.

«Sweet darling girl!» You are barely in the room when Effie hugs you tight. «I missed you so much! I was so worried!»

She doesn’t look different, because in your mind you know you saw her three days ago. 

Time has been weird since this spring. Your Games feel ancient, and yet it didn’t pass a year. You are changed so much so quickly. 

«We were so worried.» Portia adds. «And we’re sorry about the school.»

You try not to think about it. If you think about it you start to cry, and you can’t cry right now because Effie would be crushed. You have to protect Effie. 

«It’s still better than prison.» You try to smile. Portia takes your hand and you frown, because Effie is the touchy one.

«Listen, I don’t know if you want to do something like that, but I have an offer.» She reveals. She is excited, you sense.

«For me?»

«Yeah, I mean… you have a good eye for looks and fashion, we’ve seen it in the Games and Effie told me you stole a curtain to make a dress, so you can sew. I know you wanted to be a teacher, but now that's not a possibility anymore, if everything goes well and the war ends you can come working with me.»

«With you?» You are well aware you sound like a parrot right now, repeating every word.

«Well, for me, not exactly with me. An internship, six months, and then you can decide if you want to stay with me or to do something with the things you will learn. So?» 

You are speechless. You did confess to them you wanted to be a tailor when you were in the Games, but now everything is different. For once, you are not really sure there is going to be a better tomorrow. And Portia is a Capitol citizen, she would want to return there. As much as you like Capitol City - your fellow citizens hate the city, you actually like it - Haymitch won’t ever move out of District Twelve. 

«It’s unexpected, I have to… I have to think about it.» 

«You have all the time in the world right now. And of course you can stay at my place or’ Effie’s, if… if we still have a place to live, of course.» 

Do you want it? Yes. The immediate answer is yes. You want to work, you want to be successful under your name and you want money. You can picture yourself, you have so many ideas, so many dresses you can create and so many styles you will learn. Portia is a genius, your dresses for the Games made you feel like a princess and you are smiling right now.

But Haymitch. He would never say no to you, but he hates Capitol City and with a fair reason. You could never do that to him.

«Thank you, Portia. Really.» 

Here, in Effie’s arms chatting with her and Portia, you feel at peace.

It does not last long. After a moment, you hear a scream. You open the door and you see a lot of people in the corridor, looking lost. 

When you spot Marjorie you take her wrist to stop her. 

«What happened?» You ask her. She’s shaken, upset, she’s so pale she could faint any minute.

You start to worry. 

«The Capitol, they bombed, they… they dropped bombs on kids.» She whispers. 

You don’t understand. What kind of move is that?! «On kids?»

«Our kids too.» 

You freeze as your whole world collapses. «M-my kids? The kids in my class?» 

You can see their faces. Some are ten, some are even thirteen, like Prim Everdeen. So grown up. You are so proud of them. 

She’s answering you - she doesn’t know more than you do, you know that, you know and you just want someone else but nobody understands a thing now - when a scream breaks the corridor in two. 

A woman is screaming loudly, she’s desperate. 

And you recognise that voice.

It’s Katniss’s mom, Mrs. Everdeen.

[samwearsreebok]

Sam x Leah

Forewarning: I wrote this while drunk and in my feels about Sam and leahs breakup. Its pretty much gibberish

I was still trying to sort out what to do when I heard the most beautiful voice ever, "sir, are you ok?"

I turned around to see my gorgeous girl staring at me with concern in her eyes, as if she'd never seen anyone so torn apart before. She probably hadn't. In fact, I bet no one had ever looked like this to her before. Her long dark hair flowed down past her shoulders and covered half of her face. She was so beautiful. The way the light caught in her locks made them look almost luminescent. She wore a white dress shirt, tie, slacks, and high heels that matched the occasion perfectly. I almost forgot this was my engagement party. Leah could hold a candle to any woman's beauty.

"Hey honey" leah said as she walked over to us.

"Hi" I managed between breaths. I gave her a weak smile.

She smiled back, but it wasn't quite genuine.

"Let me help you up sir," emily but in putting her hand under my arm. "So you must be Sam, leah wasn't exaggeration, you are beutiful!" She enthused.

"Thanks, you're pretty cute yourself," I muttered as I got to my feet. My knees were still shaking from the shock. I took a deep breath and tried to get myself together.

"Are you okay, Sammy?" Leah asked it must be obvious how weird I felt. Like my whole world just turned inside out. I couldn't figure out why.

It was like when I'd first seen Leah and she was dressed up for the prom. Except then I knew her and was interested, or at least attracted to her. But now...now I didn't know what to think anymore. I think this officially made me worse than my father.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, uhm...thanks." I replied nervously. Leah just stared at me, not sure what to say. I'd been acting really strange since i first turned, i knew that much. Becoming a werewolf then keeping it a secret from everyone isn't the easiest thing. Especially not when everyone is watching you, waiting for you to go crazy again and need to be but away. So I could understand her confusion. I hoped emily wouldnynpick up on her confusion.

Emily broke the silence finally, "i hope we can be friends"

"Sure," I replied, trying my best to sound normal. It wasn't easy. "I don't have many friends in this town. I feel kinda left out at the moment."

"That's sad," she said sadly as she looked into my eyes.

I turned and started walking towards the kitchen, hoping they'd make me some food. My stomach was growling loudly. I'd not eaten anything all day. All morning I'd been too nervous, then I'd gotten sick. I wasn't sure I could eat at all right now.

Leah grabbed my arm, stopping me before I got far. "Sam, are you sure you're alright? You seem kind of..." I watched as her words trailed off.

"What?" I asked.

"You know," she said hesitantly, "a little bit, um...well, different."

"Oh, I'm sorry, did i scare you?" I asked outraged.

"No! No, Sam, not at all. It's just...well you know," she stammered.

I sighed, "yes, I do know. I thought we were supposed to be moving on from this." I rushed. "Every time I have to talk about this I go back to square one." I could feel the tears forming. Just talking about it made me want to cry.

"I know, I'm sorry," she said sympathetically. "But it's good to have someone to talk to who knows what you're going through."

"Thanks," I said with a nod. "Sorry I lashed out, it's just,"

"Hard." She finished for me. "We all have to deal with it in our own ways, Sam. If it helps I'll tell you the truth, ive never seen someone phase before, " she paused, "but I wish I had been with you, it would make things easier."

"You know I'm a werewolf?" I couldn't believe she knew. I thought we were talking about my mental health.

"Yes, I've known since last year," she said calmly. "My mother told me about the story's."

"Your mother knew?" I blurted out, shocked.

"Of course she did," she nodded. "It's the tribs history, only a few people go though it. We keep it quiet, we don't want to risk your safety."

"You mean I could have talked to you about it?" I gasped.

"Maybe, if you wanted to," she shrugged. "But I'm not sure you would have."

"True, I might not have," I admitted. "I just didn't know you knew."

"How did you find out?" she asked curiously.

"Only once a changed did I believe it." I answered honestly. "I spent a week in the woods alone after I first became a werewolf. Then I came back and people started treating me differently. I was paranoid, terrified someone would see me change and think I'd lost it like the rest of my family. So I kept it a secret. Obviously the elders knew and told me I had to protect our people. So I did."

"I can understand that," she said sympathetically. "I'm glad my mom told me, it makes everything easier. I feel like less of an outsider knowing I'm part of something bigger. I just hope it doesn't get you in trouble."

"Hopefully not," I agreed. "Do you mind if we keep this between us?"

"Not at all," she smiled reassuringly. "I promise."

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "I've been hiding it from everyone."

"Like you said, it's hard for everyone to talk about," she nodded. "But I think it's important to know you're still human."

I sighed, "you might be right."

"So, you've been seeing each other a while now?" Emily asked as she enteredthe room. I was happy to talk about Leah. "I haven't seen her since the prom. Have you been dating long?"

"A couple months," I said with a shrug.

"That's not bad," she said. "You've been through a lot in a short amount of time. I'm glad you've found someone who cares about you. Do you two always stay together during these changes?"

"Most of the time," I said vaguely. I didn't want to get into it. "I'm going to go get some food. See if i can convince my stomach to eat."

"Alright, well, if you need anything let me know," she told me.

"I will," I replied as I headed for the kitchen.

[almaqead]

"Beautiful Patience." From Surah 12, Yusuf.

Record breaking temperatures are searing the southwest of America just as the climate change models predicted. The power of such predictions, supplied by a state of the art project implemented by the Obama Administration has so far been underestimated.

"Through the Climate Data Initiative, the Obama Administration is today issuing a call to America’s top private-sector innovators to leverage open government data resources and other datasets to build tools that will make America’s communities more resilient to climate change and to forge cross-sector partnerships to make those tools as useful as possible."

This was dated March 19, 2014, over a decade ago. How is it possible America is being scorched while other parts of the world are being flooded when we had ten years' worth of data to give us a head start?

Look at the weather patterns now:

Are we prepared to watch half the nation bake to death? Possibly! We have suppressed our outrage, just as the Quran says. We know how to scrub the atmosphere of greenhouse gases, and we know how to go containerless at grocery stores and that we need to replant trees and forests and restore habitats that were assisting us with climate reclamation, but we have not done these things.

Let us see now what God told Muhammad about receiving warnings and holding back on the proper behaviors needed to avoid catastrophe:

12: 77-83:

˹To distance themselves,˺ Joseph’s brothers argued, “If he has stolen, so did his ˹full˺ brother before.”1 But Joseph suppressed his outrage—revealing nothing to them—and said ˹to himself˺, “You are in such an evil position,2 and Allah knows best ˹the truth of˺ what you claim.”

They appealed, “O Chief Minister! He has a very old father, so take one of us instead. We surely see you as one of the good-doers.”

Joseph responded, “Allah forbid that we should take other than the one with whom we found our property. Otherwise, we would surely be unjust.”

When they lost all hope in him, they spoke privately. The eldest of them said, “Do you not know that your father had taken a solemn oath by Allah from you, nor how you failed him regarding Joseph before? So I am not leaving this land until my father allows me to, or Allah decides for me. For He is the Best of Judges.

Return to your father and say, ‘O our father! Your son committed theft. We testify only to what we know. We could not guard against the unforeseen.1

Ask ˹the people of˺ the land where we were and the caravan we travelled with. We are certainly telling the truth.’”

He cried, “No! Your souls must have tempted you to do something ˹evil˺. So ˹I am left with nothing but˺ beautiful patience!1 I trust Allah will return them all to me. Surely He ˹alone˺ is the All-Knowing, All-Wise.”

Commentary:

Because our parents and their parents were complacent towards climate change and because we have listened to them instead of mediocre lawmakers who have not grabbed the wheel from us and attempted to what we cannot do for ourselves, save our world, we are in a lot of trouble.

The Quran, a source of hope says if we exercise "beautiful patience" and come to our senses, tempt ourselves do to do something good and root out all resistance to a global terraforming effort, we can surely save this place and return it back to the condition in which God gave us.

"Ask ˹the people of˺ the land where we were and the caravan we travelled with. We are certainly telling the truth.’”

Mankind cannot allow the theft of life on this world from the good, because a few foul persons do not feel like paying attention to the signs. What is happening to us no longer unforeseen, we are responsible for cooking this planet to death, and upon our shoulders what must happen to cool it down again. We must stop letting uncouth persons rob us of the chance we have before it is too late.

[keneestorytimelibrary]

Rockey Chapter 1

Chapter 1

‘So this is what it’s like to be cheated on?’ I thought to myself as I watched my “fiance” Danny, and my coworker, Veronica, make out. They didn’t even try to hide it; they were in the corner of the empty “break room” barely behind a coat rack. It was pathetic really…their moaning and high pitched giggling could be heard throughout the adjacent dining area. It wasn’t long before the noise gained the attention of the rest of the servers. 

My best friend Caden appeared next to me. Though I didn’t turn around to see him, I recognized his perfume. I could imagine how his face must have been: twisted and contorted into disgust, shock, and anger. And knowing how his personality was, I knew that his emotions would push him. Before the two had a chance to realize they had been caught, Caden had removed his favorite hoop earrings, pulled back his white button up sleeves and lunged at the two. Even with a fresh manicure set, Caden managed to fuck up both of their faces, and rip their uniforms. All without breaking a single nail. 

The two managers, who were on duty, had rushed over to the break room once they heard the commotion. Worried parents, and a few older guests were outraged over the entire thing, and began to complain. By the time the managers arrived, the remaining guests, and part of the back-of-house staff had joined the viewing. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!” Jack yelled, running between the group, forcing them to stop. He was the youngest manager in the restaurant, and by far the most annoying. He had this habit of irritating people with his lack of common sense. He had started as a bartender two years ago, and managed to worm his way up to the top. He walked around like if he was higher up than anyone else, despite the fact that there were servers older than him. He would play favorites; only honoring those who chose to entertain his crack-pot ideas. It was just amazing to see how far ass-kissing can get you…

“Oh, I will tell you what the fuck is going on here!” Caden said, his shrieking voice carried throughout the entire restaurant. Caden attempted to swing again,but Jack held him back. Though Caden was very skinny, he had a lot of power; Jack could barely hold him back from attacking.

“You three, into the office NOW!” Ryan exclaimed as he ran inside the break room. He was a lot older than Jack; having been the manager of the Spanish restaurant since the beginning. If there was one person the staff and crew listened to, it was him. He was like the older grandpa in the group that everyone loved, and hated getting upset. 

The staff and guests had dropped their heads, as if they were in trouble, and returned back to their places. It was at that moment that Danny noticed my presence; I could only picture how I looked that very second. My hair, as always, was pulled into a messy bun that was unflattering. Working three jobs a week can do that to you. 

My average, black, watery eyes were hidden behind an old pair of aviator glasses that once belonged to my grandpa. My tan skin began to turn pale and ugly from the tears that would not stop falling. I could feel my nose begin to run, just adding onto the masterpiece that I called my face.

I could feel my breathing quicken, as I tried to desperately regain my composure. It was futile though; the more I tried to fix myself, the more tears fell down. Ten years of a relationship, and engagement flushed down the toilet within a matter of minutes. Every beautiful moment that we shared was quickly tainted by the image of Danny and Veronica, and my body desperately needed to be washed from it.

Had this been the first time? Was it something that I had done? Was there something wrong and unappealing about me? I mean, compared to me, Veronica was a stunning beauty. She was tall and thin, had long, wavy brown hair. There was not a pimple in sight, yet on my face, I could count half a dozen Mount Everests. Other than the blotchy makeup, and cat scratches on her face, she was the definition of an Instagram model.

Danny stood there, his mouth left wide open. He looked like he was trying to find an excuse. He kept opening his mouth, as if to say something, but no words came out. It was hard to stay angry with him when we normally argue, but the smeared lipstick on his face was the fuel to the increasing fire. Danny’s black hair was disheveled, and his apron was nearly torn apart. He looked like he felt guilty for getting caught. His eyes kept running between my own and the floor. That was one thing about him...that no matter how he was acting, I could tell how he felt by looking into his eyes. 

“I SAID MY OFFICE NOW!” Ryan screamed. The three of them began to make a slow walk towards the exit. Jack led the group out, not bothering to look at me. Caden followed, looking at me with pitiful eyes, secretly promising that this wasn’t over. Next was Veronica, who gave me a cocky smile, as if she would’ve done more if given the opportunity. And finally Danny...Danny didn’t even bother looking at me. His eyes were glued to the floor, as he quickly exited the break room. 

‘He couldn’t even look at me.’I thought. ‘The bastard couldn’t even look at me…’ I began to play around with the plain silver ring that he had given me last Christmas. He had saved up his tips for months to buy a simple wedding band. Though everyone criticised him for buying something so small, I loved it. I loved simple designs. I loved the thought behind every present anyone ever gave me. But as I continued to play with the ring, I couldn’t help but feel anger for the far fetched future that would never come true. I couldn’t help but feel that the simple wedding band became heavy, as if all of my insecurities, that were brought to light at this moment, focused onto that one object. 

Ryan was the last to leave. He stopped as he reached me, extending a hand to my shoulders. He looked at me with worried eyes. I tried to look at him, but my mind flew far past him. My never-ending questions began to drag me away. I tried desperately to focus on his voice, but it was so hard.

“Rockey...are you ok?” Ryan asked. I couldn’t bring myself to answer him, though I had a feeling he wasn’t expecting much of an answer. The burning sensation in my eyes intensified, and I knew it was a matter of seconds before I began to wail. I hated the sympathetic look he was giving me. 

“Rockey...I am so sorry this happened to you. I would understand if you need to take the rest of the day off.” He said in a low voice. “But please stay and talk to me for a bit. I don’t like seeing you like this.” All of a sudden, there was a large crash in the kitchen. Apparently Jack was not able to control the group, and Caden had begun swinging again. Ryan quickly ran out of the room, leaving me alone.

I was finally left alone to my thoughts, or what was left of it. It was a highway of scrambled emotions. I couldn’t get a handle on anything. What did I want to do? What would happen next? Do I stay with him? Would I trust him again? What if this happened again? I had moved into his apartment a few years ago, and the closest relatives I have are in the next state over. He has a car, and I don’t. What would I do if I left him?

I had a mixture of anger, sadness, confusion, violence, and rage ravaging through my mind. And as if by magic, everything became clear. It was as if I had snapped a pencil in half. There was only one thing that I could think of at the moment. 

Before I left the restaurant, minutes after the chaos died down, I stopped by the kitchen. A group of servers and cooks had gathered around and began gossiping. They became silent as soon as I entered. My face was still a mess, but I remained focused on the task at hand. I found Jack standing by the office, trying to listen to the conversation that was being held inside. Apparently, he was supposed to get the servers to go back to work, but became interested in the conversation going on. 

I walked up to him, ignoring the bombardment of questions from my coworkers. I ripped the ring off my finger and gave it to him. I didn’t have to tell him what to say; he knew almost instantly what needed to be done. As I turned around, I grabbed something off the counter. I managed to do so without anyone noticing. I ripped off my apron and strutted outside to the parking lot. 

I never popped anyone’s tires before. I always imagined it to be loud, and that the sudden pop would scare me. But I found out that I actually liked it. The four tires popped with such ease, that I couldn’t help but take the same knife and run it through the doors. I was determined to fuck up Danny’s 2010 black Mustang GT. Then, I would aim for Veronica’s bright red bug. I knew that it would not help me feel better, but it was one hell of a good start. 

Within minutes, I had managed to destroy his car. I used the handle of the knife to break through his windows, and create a handful of dents. I was surprised by the energy I had, despite working two jobs today alone. A small group of guests and servers had gathered by the front door, recording my handy work. 

Once I was satisfied with my work, I turned to the group and bowed. “You guys haven’t seen anything yet.” With that, I turned around and began walking back to his apartment. It would take about an hour, but I knew he wasn’t going to come back tonight. I had all the time in the world to have fun in the apartment. Thank God I was not under the lease agreement...

[the-firebird69]

Arthur (1981) Trailer #1 | Movieclips Classic Trailers

I guess is my guess or I guess I guess she says and it's Hera they both go up there to do the ACT as us to say that the ACT is not necessary because they're down here they say trying to hold them here and they're not around but that's what they say they're doing so they're delusional as hell hoping for the best day and think they're riding and they're mentally ill and they don't understand what they're doing so we don't like them after this and we don't want them back or around or in our face at all and they're kept out the butler's pseudo empire and he says some dumb things but really he's aware this is not our plan this is your plan to be an outrageous loser and while BG and Ellie are up there the groups are getting ripped to pieces the same thing happens to Megan Merkel she's saying she's me and it's going to be a flash dance they're saying it about you and they're saying that you're in the way of their plan to install me like Reagan or something and she says you have to be s******* me is it don't you people ever f****** interview people you capture don't you question them and look at their data all their stuff is the same it's everywhere the street sign in La means the same f****** thing as a street sign in New York is the same thing as a street f****** sign in London what is wrong with you people it's very simple I don't want to go up there and have the job they want me to have but holy f****** s*** you're like f****** encouraging to kill you so it's nobody in the f****** way you understand that s*** so she says I absolutely understand something it's very stupid so take some time to think about it instead of being thought of as dumb holy f****** s*** I can't believe you can't get this s*** they named everything they came up with a whole bunch of systems all their code is all over the place and you're doing something it is really gross just like Trump's doing every single day here I feel bad for you because you had potential you're going to stop your people from destroying each other and it didn't work so they probably won't revenge on you and she said thank you quietly and left. So she's walking around the park this is started crying so how long have you been around quite a while but I see practically everybody who supported me falling and they want that psychological effect and it's affecting me the opposite way and I like people tell him I'm special forces and they're decidedly wrong and pushing in the wrong direction and it's a beautiful day everyday is a beautiful day so she looked up and said it is beautiful out here and it was cold and windy in a fall day but she breathed it in and said I love the smell she said I don't want to go and I want to straighten out and figure it out as she's walking off she says you to leave me alone and we said what and have people miss out on the message that you're trying to send this is what they have planned for your people and for us too and she says okay it felt better and she likes her people said we have to talk and she smiled and you're talking and said we feel much better and that's what's going to happen with Arthur if he gets off this high he's on so he says it's already happened to us just know you're in this high now thinking that you're riding and you're not doing anything so he goes and that's what it looks like because I'm supposed to do it just like you and he says boy that makes sense and I've actually been him oh yeah it's probably a lot deeper so he looks around and sees it and starts to weep and says we're going to be okay to her and he says how actually she says how and says we need children now so they're trying to make one it's really hard and they get upset and they go around and try different things and doesn't work so they found out that they're being monitored really heavily and it works so we're going to have some Faith and Hope it and we're going to try and work with them cuz they used to do it in the past and they're small

Hera Zues

We needed this it's like we're arguing but we're arguing about something that's really not as vehement as most other things it's just that we're not noticing what we're doing they're having us do it and we should capitalize on it and to do the capitalization you need to know it I'm going to try and remember it and he says with a tattoo and I'm going to go ahead and do that

Meghan Markle

I need to do that too I'm starting to remember he's trying to stop them and this is a hard place to be

Becka

Olympus

[iheartgracie]

claudiagideon quotes from foolish hearts

“Leaving me. And Gideon. In the bathroom. Alone.

“Should I…?” he says after a moment, glancing at my hand, which I’m now cradling to my chest for no reason at all. The pain’s settled to a dull twinge.

“You don’t have to.”

“Want to.” He shifts closer. “But not if you don’t want me to,” he says, quieter, and oddly serious.

I swallow. “It is an … integral … part of the process.”

He smiles a little, takes my hand in both of his, points my finger, and raises it to his face. I feel the warmth from his mouth, the press of his lips on top of the bandage.

I never think about my hand being small. I never think of any part of me being small, really, but it looks small in Gideon’s.

He lowers my hand but doesn’t let go. I try to say “Thanks” but the word sticks in my throat, comes out more like “Thurnk.”

He just smiles, and I realize how close we’re standing.”

“You got Battle Quest,” I say.

“I did.”

“How come?”

“Because you like it,” he replies, and then makes a face. “So, you know, it must be fun. I just … figured I’d try it.”

“I glance over at Gideon and find he’s looking at me. His gaze darts back to the screen, but there’s a small smile on his lips.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

I swallow. “I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Okay. But I’ll wait with you until it comes?”

“If you want to.”

He does. And when the bus comes, we stand up, and he sways toward me a little. I get the feeling he wants to give me a hug. Like we’re parting for some significant period of time. Like we’re … people who hug each other good-bye.

But he keeps his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, a half smile on his lips.

“Be safe, okay?”

I nod. And then I hug him.

Just briefly, so quick that he barely has time to take his hands out of his hoodie and hug back.”

“Why wouldn’t you want maximum interaction between the two most essential parts of the meal?”

“Is cereal a meal?”

“The way I make it, it is.”

I can’t help but grin.

“I will make you Froot Loops. You��ll never go back.”

“Okay. Make me some Froot Loops right now.”

“Right this second?”

I nod.”

“So crunchy cereal only. First entry for JustClaudiaWallaceThings.”

“Ugh. No one would follow that account.” It’s the same thing Iris said about my “update account,” and it’s not wrong.

“Why not?”

“’Cause there’s nothing to say.”

He makes a noise of outrage.

“Crunchy cereal only is the first entry!”

“I think it’s confirmed that like ninety-nine percent of the population likes crunchy cereal only.”

“I need to see some literature on that.”

“I would follow JustClaudiaWallaceThings. There are so many of them.”

“Name three.”

“I will name six.”

I purse my lips, trying to suppress a smile. “Okay. Go.”

“Number one, looks good in yellow.”

“His gaze darts back and forth between me and his cereal bowl.

“Number six, best laugh. Ever.” His eyes land on me, fix there for a moment. “When you make Claudia Wallace laugh, you feel like you’ve earned something.”

I swallow. I want to look away, but I can’t. “It’s like a snort,” I say. “Like a snort chortle. It’s a snortle.”

He moves a little closer. “Is that a Pokémon?”

“Gideon—”

“Do you want to go to Homecoming with me?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Awesome.”

“Unless you really like the person you go with. Then it sucks less.”

“Hm.”

“Maybe you should give it a try,” she says as we make our way up the path to the arts building.

“You should come.”

“I’m not gonna third-wheel you and Gideon.”

“It’s not … it isn’t like a date date.” I reach for the door.

“Claudia, I will bet you ten thousand dollars Gideon considers this a date date.”

“I don’t have ten thousand dollars.”

“Good, because you’d lose it,”

“I wear a dress I wore to my cousin’s wedding last year. It’s nothing particularly special, but Gideon tell me it’s “Beautiful. Radiant. Excellence,” and I can’t stop smiling.”

[andreasphilippineslitblog]

Week 4 Blog

This week I read pages 155-195 of the book “Monsoon Mansion” by Cinelle Barnes. 

The most important sentence of this week can be found on page 195: “I did not know which to cover with my dye-stained hands: my bleeding cheek or my eleven-year-old eyes.” Everything Cinelle is experiencing is literally a roller coaster: up, down, sideways, loop, left and right. Elma had returned from being sent to a school, and helped Cinelle with being in survival mode. Cinelle had to do everything on her own since everyone in her life left: Paolo, her father, the helpers, the animals she took care of, and friends. Her mother and Norman stopped paying bills for the water, since they were running out of money. They then had started to be indulged in politics and wanted to seemingly start a conflict, and win. Cinelle had met someone new during her survival mode, Diyosa– a sweet, and beautiful pregnant woman. She had lived in the mansion with Cinelle, at night but gone in the morning. Diyosa helped Cinelle through her first period, and treated her as her own daughter. Cinelle really needed her since her own mother was too busy with politics and Norman. Although Diyosa’s duration of time was short, she left Cinelle with helpful advice. Her mother and Norman moved North, because of the “business” they were rooting for. The North consisted of poverty, people with guns, and conflict. There was a safe house filled with guns, crates, TV’s, and men with weapons. Norman is building a dynasty, using the 7 M’s: Money, Machine, Media, Marriage, Murder, Myth, and Mergers. Which he obtained by getting with Cinelle’s mother, using her resources, and her. Now, a war is going to begin because Norman wants to rule for power and is using children as a weapon. So, Cinelle was forced to gather children and do labor for food, since they have more energy, and are more willing to work for food. Cinelle witnessed violence, death, and war. 

Every time I turned the page, I was in utter shock of what Cinelle was experiencing. I felt so terrible knowing that an eleven year old is experiencing life so horrid. The part where Diyosa had to educate about her period, and tell her the warnings that came with womanhood, broke me. I felt so enraged that her mother just left her at home alone. All she wanted to do was be with Norman and get money, she could care less about people’s lives. She’s such a selfish entitled woman, it’s outrageous how she acts. I understand what she went through, the trauma that she experienced but she should’ve been there for her daughter. Their mother-daughter relationship hurts me, like I sympathize with what Cinelle feels. I hope things change for Cinelle and she gets what she deserves, a support system, and basic human needs. 

Word Count: 478