#I’ll do a real piece one of these days but. gawd.

[ex-textura]

Essek growing his hair out is an attack on me personally

#critical role #essek thelyss #critrole #critical role fanart #my art #sketch #I’ll do a real piece one of these days but. gawd. #cr spoilers

[blonde-toddy]

Random and Not So Random thoughts while watching Bridgerton: Season 1, Episode 4

Oh they're at court.

Also she's not a commoner. She's the daughter of a Viscount.

Another Daphne brag moment, but homegirl really got the juice. She's bagging mfs over hand holding and dancing.

Violet dgaf. She's hungry now, damn it!

Oh he's buying jewelry already.

Ooooooh the way she imagines the Duke behind her. Honey yes. That scene was hot.

Too bad she came back to reality.

Hyacinth is my spirit animal.

Lady Whistledown ain't ready to write Simon off yet. She's waiting on the Dukes Hail Mary.

Shit. So am I.

I have never seen someone look so depressed in such an exquisite piece of jewelry. It's like the necklace chokes her. Testament to the acting and script for that though. It truly represents a trap.

Awww Simon is wearing that heavy bag out. I would say poor Simon, but he made this damn bed.

I love Alice and Will. They are the kind of wholesome love I need to keep my heart steady watching this damn show. She's his rider and I love it.

Alice roasting Simon over Daphne. Get. Yo. Girl. Mane.

I always cringe when a man tells a woman to smile.

Poor Marina. Portia is determined to find her the oldest mf. She's playing smart though.

Those damn dingbat sisters.

Maybe Penelope does care.

Well at least the least mean sister got a caller. They're awkward/cute.

Eloise girl, I love feathers in hair. Your one dimensional preaching is wearing me out again.

A boxing match date? I'd be down.

The prince legit seems like a nice guy. And Daphne is trying....but she's CLEARLY hung up on Simon.

Oh look Simon's losing focus on his friend because he's too focused on Daphne and the prince.

Ok mf! Take that shit off and roll them sleeves up. It turns me on too sis!

Oh look at the sweet family talk with the prince. Girl he'd give you any and everything you wanted.

But you and the Duke are just ATE TF UP about each other!

Mondrich for the win!!!!

Oh Benny. You've got a new friend. But what kind of friend? Give me more of this.

Well Anthony is smug and pleased as punch. Simons courtship of Daphne has ended. She has her perfect suitor. And Simon is leaving England to go rake and fuckboy about.

Though Simons hard slammed shot when the prince approached says he's anything but happy.

Violet always worries about the wrong shit.

Hyacinth always wants to know the good shit.

Be Hyacinth.

Oh fuck the prince is ready to propose. That shit escalated quickly.

SIMON!!!!!! Now would be a good time for that Hail Mary.

Good job Anthony. Way to realize that the women in your life have agency over THEMSELVES.

Violet always beating around the damn bush.....but she is still 100% #teamduke

Aw Daphne you're gonna break down snitching on yourself.

If it wasn't real with Simon you wouldn't be so ate up about it, and you would be rocking tf out of that necklace from the prince instead of crying.

There's a reason for the black in her outfit. For Daphne, who is normally all pastel blues, that black is her mourning. It's her 'attempting' to put to death her feelings for the Duke. And also I think mourning the loss if the bond they shared. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. But this seems like a very deliberate show with it's details.

Danbury ripping Simon open before she sends him off. Big energy.

She knows everything you thick headed mf. Why won't you just listen?! You letting your rank ass daddy live rent free in your soul.

He's so jaded it hurts.

Ayyyye this Trowbridge party looks like the real deal.

Oh gawd. Marina and the old man.

Mr. Finch and the cheese frock. Jesus who wrote this. I love it

Cressida you have been Daphnes biggest hater all season and now you're mad that she's with the prince. He was never gonna marry yo basket headed ass anyway.

Oooooh shit Simon sees the 'intimate painting' and has 2nd thoughts.

Go. Get. Yo. Girl.......Bitch.

Ooooh Benny's at the new homies spot and it's lit!

Naked models, easels, mingling between the classes. Yes indeed.

2nd sons having fun. Hell yes.

Damn Even Sienna at the ball...as a performer of course.

And Anthony looking tongue tied.

Violet....you need to chill. There take another sip.

Portia trying to shade Lady Trowbridges style is comical. Both of y'all bitches gaudy as hell.

Oh shit Phillipa lost her man.

Wtf is wrong with Lord Featherington?

And wtf are you doing Eloise?

Ayyye she just let her have it. You think servants have the time to be Lady Whistledown? I'm dead.

"Get out."

Ok Penelope with your saucy ass.

Well fuck! You just pushed him right to Marina. You played yourself boo.

Oooh the prince is about to shoot the big shot and Daphne keeps running away.

She done spotted Simon. Its over.

Fuck off Cressida.

Rip that mf necklace off girl.

Simon followed her ass outside.

"Miss Bridgerton." Motherfucker, call her Daphne.

"I came to say goodbye." Man. Go to hell.

Daphne serving those barbs. You not ready to keep playing with her.

Damn, Simon. If you're not gonna give her what she wants, get out the way.

Tell his ass sis.....even if you don't believe it yourself.

Really Simon? You stand there quiet as a mf church mouse whiles she's pleading with you to say something.....then you take off after her once she walks away from your shit

I swear.....men.....yall mfs really do shit like this. Speak up! Or...LET. ME. GO.

She's really cracking on his ass and I'm here for it....but wtf us up with his "I forbid you." Who tf are you to me? I'm glad she ain't playing with his ass.

Ooooh he called her Daphne and grabbed her.

Oh honey this is what fulfillment feels like, isn't it?

He's definitely fulFILLing her all the way up!

Oh shit Anthony caught them.

At least he finally landed some decent blows on Simon.

This RAKE ass mf still won't marry her.

Oh Simon.....for once.....Anthony is in the right and you the wrong. You are really about to die over your fucking daddy issues. Boy bye. Again.

Poor Daphne.

Wait, how did Cressida know she was in the garden?

That can't be good.

At least Benny is having a good time.

Dearest Portia, when you go looking for shit, it usually falls in your lap.

Marina keeps carrying on about Colin and Penelope is crushed.....or scheming....or both.

Aww Penelope let her hurt feelings cause a fight with her bestie. Her jealousy is seething.

Daphne still out here having to educate Anthony....though I get the need for the duel. And he still thinks he's running something.

Ooooh this is why they brought up 2nd sons.....Anthony is prepping Benny to take over. Well Benny, at least you had one good night out.

Colin caring for drunk Violet is parenting goals one day.

Oh great, now yall wanna bring Colin into the shit.

Simon raiding Wills spot for booze was so uneccesarily loud.

So Berbrooke alludes to her dishonor and Simon caves his fucking head in. Simon legit dishonors her and he's just like ,"Kay, guess I'll go get shot now." Someone get this man some therapy.

Oh great Anthony is back at Siennas door with more of his bullshit. Girl. Close that door.

No, not after you've let him in and climbed his torso. I guess y'all fuckin again.

He lost all the money and now he's fucked up.

Her face while he cried, is literally the face of every woman sick of a mediocre man's shit.

Oooh now they're all riding off into battle like the fucking idiots they are.

Colin is so pure.

I knew that Cressida shit would come back.

Well at least Anthony was willing to care for Sienna in his death....but damn mf, treat me right while WE'RE here.

Oh the dramatics of drawing a gun.

Nobody is here for Simon's weak ass apologies and I'm okay with that.

Hurry hurry Daphne.

Daphne down....but she's alright.

Call them idiots just like they are.

Simon still being a hoe about this shit. You really about let her be ostracized because you're a fuck boy.

Ultimate fuck boy line...I can't be with you because I love you too much. Fucking hell.

They do obviously love each other though.

Hold up.......you CAN NEVER, or WILL NEVER give her children. Don't play this like you have a reproductive issue.

So your reason for not marrying her is that you "can never" give her children and you know that's what her heart desires.

You playing with fire, Simon.

I wonder how much shit I let slide with his character just because he's portrayed so well by the phenomenal Regé-Jean Page.

No, I do love Simon's damaged ass. He just makes me so mad.

So the duel resumes......or not.

Daphne said, "Fuck them kids, give me my husband." Or something like that.

Well. This us an uncomfortable arrangement even though both of these idiots are in love.

Simon's evasion will most certainly come back to bite him in the ass.

But I'll be here with my popcorn and tissue, rooting for these cool kids to make it!

#bridgerton #bridgerton reaction #bridgerton season 1 #simon x daphne #daphne x simon #lady danbury #the duke of hastings #daphne bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #penelope featherington #marina thompson #portia featherington #will mondrich #violet bridgerton #hyacinth bridgerton

[jlalafics]

Hey can you do an everlark fake dating please🥺🥺

Anon, I’m sure you were looking for something a little more romantic than what I came up with. There is romance, but there’s some other stuff too.

Thank you for inspiring this four-parter. I hope you enjoy!

_____

Summary: Peeta needed a date for his brother’s wedding. His co-worker Katniss was more than willing to play along. Sometimes, simple favors can turn into so much more. A fake dating story done in four parts. Rated E. Definitely NSFW.

A Simple Favor

The Invite

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Peeta gawked at the frilly invitation in his grasp, then at the attached list of activities.

Three days.

Three fucking days of wedding activities to torture him.

“Can we tone down the cursing?” Katniss, his co-worker, sat down at her desk adjacent to his. “This is a place of business.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you had to go to this.”

Peeta swiveled his chair, tossing the invitation onto Katniss’ desk. It landed smoothly atop her keyboard and she reached to read the perfect calligraphy print announcing the upcoming nuptials of Rye Mellark to Delly Cartwright.

She turned back to Peeta. “Yeah…so?”

“Look who’s the Maid of Honor.”

Katniss looked to the right part of the invitation which listed the wedding party.

Her grey eyes suddenly shot up at him. “Oh, holy fuck! Is that her?”

“Yeah. It’s hard to look at her name and not still see her sucking off my best friend.”

Katniss snorted. “Yeah—that’s not an image even I would likely forget.” She examined the invitation again. “Gawd, even her name is pretty. Madge Undersee.”

“Don’t remind me,” Peeta growled, yanking the invitation from her grasp. “Who plans three days of pre-wedding activities?”

“Your brother and his affianced, apparently.” Katniss gave him a sympathetic smile. “You think she’ll bring him?”

“According to my brother, they’re officially together now.”

Peeta never used to be this bitter.

However, two years ago, that irrevocably changed when he discovered his then-fiancée on her knees and giving his best friend a blowie—on his bed. Madge had wept, of course, telling him that it had just happened.

And Gale…he had begged for Peeta to understand that it wasn’t just sex…that he felt something more for Madge.

How the hell was he supposed to understand that?

Peeta had packed his things and immediately left the apartment that he and his best friend had been living in—let the fucker deal with the astronomical Bay Area rent on his own.

He then accepted a job at Panem Projects, a Brooklyn based start-up created by tech mogul Haymitch Abernathy. The uber-genius had invented an app that allowed you to search for specific non-profits and charities that one may be interested in contributing to.

On Peeta’s first day, he met Katniss Everdeen, who was part of the QA department he was in. She was a supervisor while he was just one of the lowly engineers.

They had been sitting across from one another ever since.

“That sucks.” Katniss sat back, crossing her legs, as she watched him carefully. “Did you want to get wasted after work?”

++++++

It was at their fifth round of shots that the idea came about.

“I can’t go to this.” Peeta held the invitation, now beer-stained and being used as a coaster for their peanut bowl. “It’s basically a three-day Peeta Mellark roast!”

“Yeah, and a wedding,” Katniss replied. She leaned forward, her cheeks warmed from booze. “You know what you need? A date to this God-awful event. Not just any date, a hot date.”

“Here’s the problem, sweetheart,” he replied. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“It doesn’t have to be a real date,” she reasoned. “Find a great-looking chick who’d be willing to spend three days looking like she worships your cock. Isn’t this what those dating apps are for?”

“I don’t want a stranger around my family!” He reached for the beer bottle in front of him—was this even his? “That’s how those Netflix crime specials come about.”

Katniss chuckled. “Okay. Understandable.” She met his glazed stare. “I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“I said I’ll go with you,” Katniss declared. “I’ll be your hot date.”

Peeta took a long swig. “Uh…no offense Katniss…you’re definitely pretty…but hot?”

“I have been known to dress up once in a while.”

He looked at his friend; her dark hair was in its usual braid and she wore a pair of fitted jeans along with a zip-up with the Panem Projects logo on it—some sort of fiery bird. On her feet were a pair of Converses that had seen better days.

“You’re really know how to make a girl feel desired,” Katniss told him. “I can’t think of any possible reason why Madge would dump you.”

“Hey now! That’s hitting below the belt!”

“Well, you don’t think I can be hot!” she retorted. “Give me your phone!”

Peeta, in fear of his life, pulled out his phone from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to the woman.

Katniss picked up the invitation with her free hand and started to type with the other.

“Katniss…Motherfucking…Everdeen…” She handed the phone back to him. “I’ve RSVP’d for you and added myself as your plus one.”

He looked at the browser window and then back at a smirking Katniss.

“You actually wrote ‘Katniss Motherfucking Everdeen’ as my date’s name.” Peeta had to smile. “My mother is going to love that.”

“She’s going to love me,” Katniss assured him. “She and everyone else at this wedding is going to forget who the hell Madge Undersee is after I’m done with them.”

Peeta had to ask. “Why are you doing this?”

“I know how it feels to be taken by surprise.” She was suddenly staring very hard at the dirty bar table they sat at. “Plus, you’re my friend and we take care of each of other.” Her eyes met his, her own looking like she was on the verge of breaking. “Right?”

Peeta reached over and squeezed her hand. “Right.”

++++++

“Okay, so I have prepared a portfolio of myself.” Katniss presented him with a closed folder. “Childhood photos…likes and dislikes…just some general information that a boyfriend should know.”

“34C?” Peeta eyed her doubtfully, briefly flitting to her white button down. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. You bought me a lovely dark green lingerie set for our last anniversary.” Katniss pulled out a piece of paper. “Here is a little questionnaire that I’ve made for you, just for me to know you a little better.”

Peeta skimmed over the questions. Most of them were pretty general; where he was born, his parents’ and his brother’s name as well as their ages, his favorite foods…then—

“Why do you need to know if I’m circumcised?”

“If we have supposedly been together for about six months, shouldn’t we be having sex by now?” she questioned.

“True.” Peeta looked around the room. “Is it okay that we’re using a meeting room for this?”

Katniss shrugged. “The guys in IT use this room to play Pokémon every Friday.”

“Also, when are you going to do something about…” He waved his hand out at today’s outfit: a pair of black slacks, a white button down, and brown loafers. “…that.”

“Don’t you worry your perfect little blond self.” Katniss playfully ruffled his hair. “I didn’t realize that you were so fixated on looks.”

“You were the one who suggested ‘hot’,” he pointed out. “However, my parents, who are generally good people, can sometimes be judgmental. So besides being very smart and extremely accomplished—we’re going to have to show them how great you are on the outside.”

“Peeta, do my looks matter to you?” she suddenly asked. “I mean, do you think that I’m pretty?”

Katniss wasn’t what people would call conventionally beautiful.

Her hair was a single shade of black which could be a bit-frizzy on humid days, and her complexion was sun-kissed with a sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks. However, Peeta saw deep grey eyes that sparkled when she was particularly excited about something (pushing a new feature on their app, for example) and full rose-colored lips that needed no lipstick.

And when she smiled, everything about her just lit up.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he said truthfully. “I do worry that the people at this wedding won’t see you the way I see you.”

“Then that’s their fucking problem, isn’t it?” Katniss smiled gently. “We just have to make this look real. I think we can do this.” She pushed a pen towards him. “Now, fill your questionnaire out, okay?”

“Alright.” He reached for the pen and his eyes went to her. “Katniss?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

++++++

Two Weeks Later…

“Sister—Primrose…24…a nurse in Seattle…Mom…Kate…former teacher…Dad…Marcus…former General in the Army….”

As he waited for Katniss’ Uber to arrive, Peeta went through the flashcards that he and Katniss had created in order to get through the three days leading up to his brother’s wedding.

They had everything from their first date (a Harry Potter trivia night at a bar close to their office) to any distinguishable body marks (him—a scar on his knee from falling off his bike at 12 and her—surprisingly, a scar just above her left butt cheek from a tattoo removal procedure, though she wouldn’t tell him what the tattoo was).

“Peeta?”

He had been so distracted that he didn’t even hear the car pull up.

“Sorry.” He tucked the cards in his back pocket and lifted his eyes to greet her. “Hey…holy shit.”

This was not Katniss Everdeen.

Katniss Everdeen didn’t wear her dark hair down in smooth waves that framed a perfect heart-shaped face. She didn’t wear sleeveless black jumpsuits that revealed rich olive skin and plush breasts (she was definitely a 34C).

“You like?”

She did a little twirl for him, graceful despite the stilettos she wore.

And, Katniss definitely didn’t have an ass that made his mouth water.

The unbidden thought of biting into one of those full globes caused his cock to twitch in his now too tight jeans.

“I like.” Peeta gave her a smile. “Maybe a little too much.”

She looked triumphant. “Give you a boner?”

“Fuck yeah,” he replied, a tad breathless.

“Then I’ve done my job.” Katniss wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hello boyfriend.”

Her mouth covered his own and his arms encircled her waist, pulling her tightly against his body. She teased, nipping at his bottom lip, her tongue skimming his lips before pulling away. Something surged inside him and his tongue invaded her mouth, sweeping in to taste sweetness.

Katniss growled against him, her center pressing into his now definitely hard cock.

Reluctantly—because they had to either breathe or die during the world’s hottest kiss—they pulled apart.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, gasping for breath.

“Because we’re supposed to be in love.” Her chest heaved, her eyes just cooling down from their kiss. “And couples in love kiss like that.”

“I know no couples who kiss like that,” he told her, a smile unexpectedly forming on his lips. “But feel free to kiss me like that whenever you see fit.”

++++++

During their five-hour flight, they went over the wedding itinerary.

“I’ve had a stylist pull looks for us for all the fancier events,” Katniss explained. “Don’t worry, nothing looks like we’re trying too hard. We’ll be more complimentary to one another.”

“What would trying too hard look like?” Peeta asked curiously.

“Well, if your tie matched my dress for example.”

A flight attendant stopped in front of their seats. “What can I get you both?”

Katniss smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He will have…” Her fingers brushed against his ear lobe and he couldn’t help but shiver in pleasure. “…a cup of chamomile tea. I will have a coffee—”

“With milk and two sugars,” he breathed out, trying to smile up at the attendant.

“Thanks baby,” Katniss cooed at him, her hand brushing through his hair affectionately.

The woman quickly fixed their drinks, handing their cups to them one by one.

“Can I just say that you too are extremely adorable?” the flight attendant remarked.

Katniss put a hand to her chest.

“Thank you!” She looked to Peeta; her expression full of affection. “He’s just so easy to love.”

Peeta smiled tightly. “This is my dream girl…” He patted Katniss’ hand. “…right here.”

The flight attendant practically squealed before going to the next seats.

“You really could be a little bit more convincing,” Katniss remarked. “Maybe act like my touch doesn’t repulse you.”

“You don’t!” He shifted towards her. “In fact, it’s really the opposite.”

Katniss rested back against her seat. “Really?” She crossed her arms. “Convince me.”

Peeta unbuckled his seatbelt. Pressing the release button of the armrest, he pushed it up so there was no divider between them.

Katniss waited, obviously interested in what he was up to. He realized that their tray tables covered anything below the waist and his mouth widened in a grin.

“Tell me.” His hand went to her thigh. “What exactly are you wearing under this?” The fabric beneath his palm was smooth and he could feel a full firm thigh. He continued upwards towards the cleft between her thighs. “Are you even wearing underwear?”

Katniss’ arms fell to her side and she swallowed thickly. “I am.”

“And, if my hand found its way between your thighs—” His hand stopped just about an inch from her center and she let out a labored breath. “—if my fingers brushed against this practically non-existent cloth, would I find you wet?”

“Maybe,” she whispered.

Peeta leaned forward, his mouth going to her ear.

“Would you let me put my fingers to your clit? Let me rub you until you came all over this seat?” His pressed his mouth to the spot behind her ear and she shivered. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’d happily fill this cabin with the smell of sex if I fingered you into completion—”

“Stop—” Katniss gasped out, her hand covering the hand on her thigh. “I’m convinced.”

“Good.”

Peeta moved his hand away—but not before quickly brushing the tips of his fingers at her center. The feeling of heat had him hard immediately.

“You’re far from repulsive, Katniss.” He met her heated stare. “I’ve always thought that.”

Katniss snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Peeta took her hand, placing it to where his erection demanded to be freed.

“Believe me,” he demanded, and her fingers moved against the rough fabric of his jeans. “This is because of you. Yeah, it’s extremely hot to see you in this get-up, but what makes me hard is that look in your eyes.”

Katniss licked her lips. “What look?”

“That fire,” he told her, his thumb caressing the top of her hand. “That fire in those grey eyes will always get me, if you’re in this black jumpsuit—” Her fingers enclosed along his cock, gripping him firmly. “—or if you’re wearing that ugly zip-up sweater that HR gave you for your work anniversary.”

“Excuse me?” They both jumped at the voice and looked to see the flight attendant. “We’ve just been notified that we’ll be landing a little sooner than we announced. So, if you could finish your drinks in the next few minutes—”

“Of course,” Katniss said quickly, her free hand reaching for her cup. “We’ll be done soon.”

The woman gave them a smile and moved on to the next row.

Katniss sat back, the hand on him quickly disappearing.

“You’re going to be more problematic than I thought,” she said, her eyes dark.

“Trust me.” Peeta let out a breath. “The feeling is mutual.”

++++++

“I never asked, but you and Rye are pretty close, right?”

Peeta nodded, pushing the cart with their luggage down the corridor as they left baggage claim.

“We’re probably just as close as you and Prim are,” he told her. “And Delly is great. Horrendous taste in friends, but she’s really a sweet person.”

“Do you suspect that Rye will see through all of this?” Katniss questioned.

Peeta shook his head. “We’ve done our research.” He stopped, reaching for her hand. “I also always thought that you and I had great chemistry…in the workplace. I think it transfers easily into whatever we’re trying to pull off.”

Katniss smiled. “I feel the exact same way.”

“Peeta!”

They turned to see a couple, running toward them excitedly.

Rye rushed over, pulling him into a tight hug and practically lifting him off the ground. His brother was a broad fellow; muscular from years of playing football throughout high school and college. However, Rye was as gentle as they came when it came to his younger brother and the lovely woman that he would soon be marrying.

“I’ve missed you, little brother!” Rye said affectionately. “Welcome home!”

They drew apart, just as Delly pulled away from hugging Katniss.

He reached over to quickly kiss Delly on the cheek. “Hello soon-to-be big sister.”

“Hello, my sweet little brother,” Delly greeted in return.

“Rye, Delly—” Katniss beamed at him and his heart leapt at the affectionate gesture. Taking her hand, he presented her proudly to the couple. “—this lovely woman is my girlfriend, Katniss Everdeen.”

Delly grinned at his expression. “I can already tell that she’s going to be a perfect addition to our family.”

Rye took Katniss’ hand, leaning and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“I welcome anyone who makes my baby brother smile this brightly,” he told her. “Welcome to San Francisco. Have you ever been here?”

Katniss shook her head. “This is my first time. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Thanks!” Delly glowed in excitement. “I can’t wait for all the festivities—” She whipped around to her fiancé. “—and for us to be married, of course!” They all chuckled at her exuberance.

Rye led them out into where the town cars were stationed; a man in a black suit immediately took the cart and headed to the trunk of the black Sedan in front of them.

“A driver?” Peeta asked.

“Mom and Dad insisted,” Rye responded with a grimace. “You know them.”

They all slid into the wide back seats, Rye closing the door behind him.

Delly immediately pounced. “So, how did you two meet?”

“We’ve been working together for the last two years at Panem Projects,” Katniss told her easily. “I’ve always liked Peeta and we became friends right away.”

“However, a little over six months ago, I finally got the balls to ask her out on an actual date,” Peeta finished for her. His hand found hers, their fingers entwining easily, and he met Katniss’ eyes. “And, wonderful woman that she was, she accepted. We’ve been together ever since.”

“I love it,” Delly said sincerely. “And you look so beautiful together. The children are going to be gorgeous.”

Rye smiled affectionately at his fiancée. “Don’t scare Katniss off, love.”

“I don’t know,” Katniss said, eyeing Peeta playfully. Her free hand reached to push his hair away from his face. “I’ve always loved blue-eyed children.”

“And, the children would look particularly lovely if they had Katniss’ hair,” he added, his hand reaching to the tuck a tendril of her hair behind her ear.

How did he never notice what was in front of him?

“Oh man,” Rye said, looking between them. He smirked at his brother. “You are so fucked.”

++++++

“It’s so wonderful to have you here, Katniss,” his mother said. “We’ve never had Peeta bring a girl home. You know, except for Mad—" She waved her hand, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, you are most welcome.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Mellark,” Katniss replied graciously.

“Call me Janice, my dear.”

Behind her, Peeta followed along with his father carrying their bags up the stairs.

“She seems like a lovely girl,” his father told him.

“I care for her a great deal,” Peeta said as he watched his mother and Katniss chat easily. “I don’t know how I even got her.”

“Trust me, son.” He gave Peeta an affectionate smile. “I think she feels the same way. I can tell just by the way she keeps looking over for you—like she can’t believe that you’re together.”

They stopped at the door to his childhood room.

“Well, we put some extra towels in your bedroom,” his mother told them. “And, Mags—” Peeta had introduced Katniss to the head of the household when they first entered his childhood home. “—made sure that fresh sheets have been put on the bed and she’s aired out the room as well.”

“Okay, but where will Katniss be staying?” he asked.

“We’re not so old to not know that you aren’t sleeping together,” his mother said. “So, we just set up your room for the both of you.”

“That’s perfect,” Katniss told his parents. She looked to him boldly. “Show me your room. I’m dying to see those little league trophies of yours.”

“We know that you must be exhausted,” his father told them. “So, we’ll just have dinner sent up and we can rendezvous for brunch tomorrow in the main dining room.”

“Thank you, Marshall,” Katniss said as Peeta opened the door for them. “Thank you as well, Janice.”

“Of course, dear.” His mother gave them a jaunty wink. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Entering the room, Peeta placed their bags at the end of his bed.

“What kind of life did you leave when you came to work at Panem Projects?” Katniss stared up at the high ceiling of the room, her eyes traveling to the four-post bed, and then to the floor-to-ceiling windows. She went to one immediately. “Oh my God! You can see everything from up here!”

“A house on Twin Peaks affords that kind of view. However, it’s not so great on foggy days,” he told her, watching as she examined every bit of his room from the bathroom (“A clawfoot tub!”) to the walk-in closet (This is practically the size of my studio!).

Taking off her shoes, Katniss leapt onto his bed. “Holy shit! This is heavenly!”

Peeta went to her, toeing off his own shoes before joining her.

They laid side by side, hands immediately reaching for one another.

He turned to her. “Did I ever say thank you for being here?”

“It’s all worth it to stay in this sweet room,” Katniss replied, her grey eyes dancing.

“So, you’re just here for the room?”

She smirked. “Well, I did also find out that you have a huge cock—so that’s a bonus.”

“Katniss!” Her laughter filled the room and his stomach tumbled in pleasure hearing it. He suddenly flipped, his chest over hers and the giggles fell from her lips. Peeta stared down at her, her grey eyes suddenly darkening as he examined her. “You’re something special.”

“I’m nothing.” Her chest rose and Katniss let out a shaky breath. “I just want to be here for you.”

“I want to kiss you,” he suddenly said, his hand reaching to trace her jawline. “Would you allow it?”

“Are you doing it because you want to thank me?” she asked tightly. “Or because you want to explore what is obviously between us?”

“Both, I think.” Peeta had never felt this exhilarated or this flustered by someone. Just a touch from Katniss and he was in a whirlwind, happy to be caught in it. “I just think you deserve someone less broken than I am.”

“We’re both broken.” Her hand reached for the nape of his neck, drawing him down until their lips were brushing. “I don’t know if we can fix that, but we can help each other mend.” She smiled against him. “Let’s see where this weekend takes us, and we can go from there. For now, I’m allowing you to kiss me. So, make it a good one.”

Peeta dipped his mouth into hers, sampling just a bit, and it was like he could breathe again. Immediately, his lips sought hers, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and swirling against her own. Katniss moaned and his heart rose in triumph as she pressed herself to him eagerly.

His hand reached to cradle her head, his fingers entwining in soft waves and he plunged into her mouth once more, exploring her in their kiss.

Katniss ripped her mouth off his, a string of saliva still connecting them.

“Fuck!” Her eyes were frenzied. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

He grinned. “I’m just exploring.”

Despite his attempt to remain cool, his own heart raced; the feel of her mouth…and her tongue undoing him.

This wasn’t the plan, but it felt right.

“This whole game we’re playing,” she said, her eyes full of hunger. “I’m going to crash and burn, aren’t I?”

“If you burn—” Peeta kissed her tenderly. “—then I burn with you.”

END OF PART ONE

#anon #request #fakedating!Everlark #Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #1 of 4

[iplaysims4]

“What A Treat”

...Continued from previous post cause it was pic heavy...LOL!

Treat herself. It was really digging into her pockets to do so but she deserved it right? I mean, she got bamboozled and thought she was finna be insta-rich but it was a scam.

Latrice ordered a Iced Tea for her drink and Mapo Tofu with Pork. Why!?!... cause first off...

She had no IDEA on how to use chopsticks! She barely use her utensils at home to eat let alone some darn chopsticks! Then...

She never had what she ordered before and burned her damn mouth! Like c’mon girl. you doing entirely too much cause you got some money  🙄 Girl...

But I guess it all worked out in the end cause she learned how to make something new in the kitchen. Okay den, I ain’t mad at chu.

But I ‘am mad that it was water shut off day and my girl was out here stankin 😷 and eating with no care in the world.

Now let me tell you bout this murphy bed. None of my other Sims has this bed but Latrice do. She went home all tired and was finally able to shower and went to bed. Now...I ain’t know her bed was broken until...

That bad boy closed up then opened again...LOL!

Poor Latrice.

Then she gon look at me as if I knew what was going on or if I did it. Don’t look this way!

Yea reconsider that.

I thought she had went back to sleep but then soon after, she got up looking confused.

Look at her. Wondering if that was a dream or not...LOL!

YES YOU GOT SWALLOWED BY YOUR BED GAL! It was real!

She called up a repairman to come in and fix her bed. That was one thing she wasn’t gonna try and repair cause if it electrocuted her, we was not about to find out this night.

The repairman came and fixed the bed.

Then leave their trash behind. I mean come on. At least be trained and skilled enough to take the trash wit chu!

Now it is always a pleasure seeing Tyler. But when Tyler papz come through with him and leave little treats that is worth some shmoney!...

Listen!!!! Not one piece of Ambrosia but..

Two of em! Look hea...

She finna get paid! Okaaay! Period!

She was down to 112 simoleans too! liiiiike. She has just paid her mortgage that was extremely high and she had to pay her bills too that was in the 800$ range. That put her down. << Nope. I was thinking too far ahead...Lmao! I think it was the loan payments and eating that put her down to 112 but as I was saying....Then look at Sim Gawd!

Sold one.

Sold the second one.

Came through baby. Allllll the way through.

She even ate a piece of the cake to say thank ya!

Mmm! Just like that. She was up there in the thousands. I’ll be playful too if I had got easy simoleans like that. What. A. Treat! it was.

#ts4 #the sims4 #Latrice #what a treat #Latrice tryna make it

[kaitycole]

A Year After - Morgan

Summary: What happens in the 365 days since Morgan left Sweetridge for her dream job in Boston.

Word Count: 2510

Pairing: Morgan (F) x Sawyer (past tense) Morgan x ???

Rating: PG-13, there’s smut but it’s pretty tamed

Tag List: @desiree---1986​ @kacie-0156​ @shakespeareanwannabe​

A/N: This is the first out of two parts for this. The second piece will be Sawyer’s year after Morgan leaves Sweetridge.

P.S. This is prior to me reading Book Two as well as a modified ending to Book One.

“I….”

“Seriously? Did everything that’s happened the last few weeks mean so little to you?”

“No! Sawyer, I couldn’t say goodbye because the last few weeks have meant everything to me! All last night, I kept trying to find the right moment to tell you, but every time…I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Sawyer shakes his head repeatedly, “I just don’t believe it. You could’ve said something when we snuck off, before we…we…”

He doesn’t finish his statement, he just turns away from her, hopping back up on his horse.

“Sawyer…”

“Hope that job gives you everything you want, Morgan.”

She watches as he taps the horse’s side, causing his horse to start walking back up to the ranch. Getting back in the car, she looks back at the Oakley’s, Cliff patting his son’s shoulder as he walks into the house.

I’m doing the right thing, right? This is what I’ve been working towards for years.

“Alright Spike, let’s go.” She looks over to at the cactus, but for some reason she gets the feeling that if it could, it would give her a disapproving look.

Fall

Morgan has settled into a quick-paced and comfortable routine at The Weekly. Spending those few weeks in Montana really helped her grow and she’s a force to be reckoned with now. Well, more of a force.

“Morgan, we’re heading out for drinks, wanna join us?” Adam asks her. Every other Friday night, Adam, Lucy and Dan all go out to blow off some steam and each time, she’s told them no.

When she first got to Boston, her heart was still broken over how her and Sawyer left things. She didn’t want to go out when she could just bury herself in work to feel better.

“C’mon, we know you already have your article written and submitted. It’ll be fun, I swear!”

Lucy was right, technically Morgan had her article finished yesterday and she was already starting the research on her next one. Plus, it wasn’t like she had anyone waiting on her back home, Spike pretty much took care of himself. She looks at her phone, one more time, seeing zero notifications before shrugging.

“Okay, I’m in!”

The group of co-workers cheer as Morgan grabs her coat and they all pile out into the chilly Boston streets and head to the bar.

“Wait, you met a real-life cowboy?”

“Yup,” she tosses back another shot. Morgan hardly drank, but since leaving Sweetridge, it became a more frequent habit.

“And you left his sexy self behind!” Dan practically shrieks and dramatically fans himself.

Lucy rolls her eyes, “Okay drama queen, chill.”

Morgan gives the group a straight smile, “Sexy or not, this was and is my dream job. I couldn’t pass that up. Even for a rodeo riding’ cowboy.”

“He could ride –”

“Do NOT finish that sentence, Dan.” Lucy cuts him off, causing the whole group to bursts into laughter.

Winter

“I’m pleased to announce that the promotion is going to Morgan Garrity.”

The office erupts into cheers as Morgan turns bright red. At the end of the day, her friends have thrown together a small celebration.

“There she is! Ms. Fancy pants!” Adam hoots as she walks in, smiling.

“Aww. Guys! You’re the best!” She hugs each of them before picking up a flute of champagne, sipping it.

“The best deserves the best,” Lucy winks.

“So, how are we going to finish out the night? Should we go to Whisky Saigon or Tunnel?” Dan suggests.

“We always go to Tunnel, why not try out Royale?” Lucy retorts.

“It’s Morgan’s night.” Adam turns to her, “What do you want to do?”

“Oh uhm,” she looks at the clock, “I was planning on going home and watching Smalltown, USA.”

“The show that documents a small unknown town in America? Why would you…ohhhhh!” Dan gives her a knowing look.

Her face burns red, “I don’t know what that look is for.”

“Mr. Sexy cowboy’s town’s on tonight, is it!?” Dan jumps up and down, “Change of plans, TV premiere at Morgan’s!”

“Yes! We can get box wine and popcorn on the way! Let’s go!” Lucy says as they all begin to pile out of the office and into the parking lot.

“Is it too much to ask for a night in alone?” She says with a snort.

“We could break in your new desk if you want,” Adam winks, pulling Morgan closer to him before his lips meet hers. She lets herself melt into him, this was a new fling. Her first fling since Sawyer, well, was that a fling? Whatever it was, she knew she couldn’t harbor those feelings forever.

“Dan and Lucy could walk in. Let’s go.” She grabs her coat and scarf before pulling him along.

About an hour later, the four are sitting in Morgan’s apartment; Lucy and Morgan are both curled up on the couch while Adam sits in the chair next to Morgan and Dan is sitting on the floor in front of the girls.

Morgan feels her stomach flop as the intro music begins to play, regretting her idea of not only watching it with friends, but in general. She turns to Adam who brushes his fingers against her knuckles causing her to blush.

“On this episode of Smalltown, USA we’re are going to Big Sky Country. That’s right we will be in Montana, a little town known as Sweetridge.”

“Whoooo!” Dan chants, clearly having a good time.

The episode shows footage of the small town, capturing iconic shots of Asha’s general store along with both the Mendoza’s and Oakley’s ranches.

It’s so beautiful!” Lucy squeals, staring at the breath-taking scenery.

Morgan sucks in a quick breath and feels her body completely freezes when she sees him. At first, it’s from behind, but his black hat is a dead giveaway. He’s on Dolly, he’s rounding up the cows as the cameraman zooms in, his face plasters the TV screen. There he was. Sawyer Oakley. Spanning out across her 55” flat screen.

“Pinch me! I must be dreaming. He is smokin’!” Dan says causing Lucy to pantomime fanning him. He looks over at Morgan who is still frozen.

“No way, Morgs.” She turns to him, “That’s him, isn’t it? That’s Mr. Sexy Cowboy!” Dan doesn’t need her to answer, he can tell by her reaction alone.

“Uhm…yeah…that’s him.” She turns back to the screen before sneaking a side glance at Adam who isn’t too pleased with the revelation.

The episode continues along with Dan’s crude cowboy puns. Morgan sees each of her friends, realizing just how much she’s been missing them. She feels her cheeks turn bright red when the camera then pans over to Sawyer. A shirtless Sawyer carrying a crate of what she assumed was Mendoza bourbon. She feels jealous rage when she watches Juliette wrap her hands around his upper arm.

“I’m sorry Morgs, but I’m totes judging you for leaving. If that was me, you wouldn’t be able to pry me out of his arms. Look at those muscles. My gawd!” Dan exclaims.

“It’s getting late, I’m going to head home.” Adam doesn’t wait for goodbyes before walking right out of her apartment.

“What’s up with him?” Lucy says.

“I’ll go check, be right back,” Morgan steps over Dan and rushes out of the door, catching Adam at the elevator.

“Adam. What was that about?”

“I figured I was a rebound, but you could’ve told me that we looked alike.” He shakes his head, “That why you picked me? Easier for you to think of him?”

“Adam, stop. That’s not true at all.”

“You’re not even over him, are you? I saw your face.” The elevator dings and opens as he steps in, “You need to figure out what you want.”

*                      *

It wasn’t until everyone had left that night and she was lying in bed, did reality finally hit her. Everything that she’d been trying to shove down, immediately came up when she saw him. She starts sobbing, clinging to her pillow as if it was him.

She knew Adam was right.  She wasn’t over Sawyer. And she’d be lying if she said she never saw the resemblance between the two of them.

I can’t just go back, can I? Just show up and ask for my job back? For him back? My  friends back?

Spring

She wakes up before he does, allowing herself to get lost in her thoughts before her day begins. Looking over at him, she feels her heart heavy, the sinking feeling that she’s tried to push down just fills her entirely. It’s been months since she left, just a few shy of a year, but she couldn’t understand why things still lingered.

Cause when I'm with him

                                   I am thinking of you                                                                        Thinking of you

“Well good morning,” he props himself up on one arm before pulling her down to him. He pulls her into a deep kiss while pushing himself on top of her. His lips slowly trail down her neck. She knew it was Adam. Kissing her, holding her, causing pleasure to ripple through her. But that didn’t stop her from letting herself imagine that it was the man who still had her heart.

He kissed my lips

                       I taste your mouth

                                               He pulled me in

                                                                       I was disgusted with myself

He lets out a soft groan in response to her moaning, his hands explore her bare skin as he pushes himself into her. She buries her face in the curve of his neck, gently biting down to conceal a scream.

It’s not long before she’s ready to stop fighting and let the pleasure wash over her. She can feel him getting close before moaning out his name.

“Sawyer…”

“Nice. Really nice Morgan,” Adam grumbles as he snatches his clothes off of the floor.

“A…Adam, I’m so sorry!” She tries to get him to stop, but he’s already half-dressed and looking for his keys.

“I don’t know why I did that.” He finally stops and looks at her.

“You aren’t over him. I told you to figure it out. I’m done.”

She sinks back onto the bed before she hears him slam the door behind him. She knew he was right, she couldn’t keep pushing it down.

*                      *

The last couple days at work were awkward and full of tension. Not only was Adam not speaking to her, Lucy and Dan weren’t exactly fans of her. When everything went down with Adam, he of course called up Dan to talk it out who then called Lucy. Let’s just say they weren’t too thrilled to learn about the short affair or her lingering feelings for Sawyer secondhand.

Not to mention the fact all of her inner conflicts were starting to come through into her work. She had been called into her boss’ office twice already over sources not being fully vetted as well as missing deadlines.

This went from being her dream job to just being a job. A place where for nine plus hours a day, she felt suffocated. Truly longing for the freedom Montana gave her all those months ago.

It was another silent day, Lucy and Dan gave a small wave and smile, but that’s all she got from them nowadays. It didn’t help that a lot of that was her fault. They had tried several times to get her to go out with them, sometimes with Adam, but most times without him, but she kept them at a distance.

She’s flipping through her photographs when she finds the one of everyone from their hike.

“I quit.” She announces.

“What did she just say?” Lucy asks Dan who just shrugs.

Her boss comes walking out of his office and she runs up to him, “I quit.”

“What?”

“I gotta get out of here. I quit.” She quickly shoves the few things on her desk that she wants to keep before practically running out the door.

“Go get that cowboy!” Dan yells behind her.

Summer

“I know what you’re thinking,” she looks over at the cactus sitting in her passenger’s seat, “I should’ve taken a plane this time. Or maybe called someone as a heads up. But I couldn’t let anyone stop me. I had to do this, Spike.”

The cactus sits there, silently, because it’s a cactus.

“You know, I think this is where we broke down last time.” Morgan looks around trying to see if she’s getting any closer.

Suddenly, she slams on her breaks, veering to the side to dodge a stray pair of cows walking in the road.

“MoOoOooO!!” The cow appears angry.

Catching her breath, Morgan fans herself; the commotion caused her to break out in a thin layer of sweat.

“Bessie!” She hears a familiar voice shout at the cow, who is now eating grass in the field across from where she came from.

A smile plasters on her face when she sees Dallas and Curly rushing over her way. Without hesitation, she jumps out of her car and waits. Curly notices her first.

“No way! I knew you’d come back!” His delighted squeals cause Dallas to look her way.

He doesn’t say anything and she can’t get a good read on him either. Before she could tell by a subtle smirk but he was reading blank.

“What brings you back!?! How’s your job? We have so much to catch up on!”

The pair watches as Dallas ropes Bessie and begins walking her back, still not saying anything to Morgan.

“Guess I deserve the silent treatment.”

“He’s always a grouch. Put’s Oscar to shame. Now come on, let’s go see everyone!”

She puts on a brave face, refusing to let herself look like the basket of nerves she is. This was it, the moment to know if she’d made a huge mistake or if this was the beginning of a great adventure.

“Ready?? Curly exclaims as they come up on the group.

Before she can answer, she sees Sayer helping a woman off a horse. A really beautiful blonde woman off a horse. She feels her chest constrict as he places his hand on her lower back, as that woman flashes him a flirtatious smile and as his cheeks turn red.

He says something to her, she tosses her head backwards with a laugh. Morgan watches as the woman playfully touches his arm and lets it linger.

Curly and her are close enough to hear them, but not to where Sawyer can see her.

“Same time tomorrow, Cowboy?”

“Same time tomorrow,” he tips his hat towards the unknown woman before she walks right passed Morgan.

Morgan feels her mouth dry. She knew she couldn’t be upset that he had moved on, it had been a year, but she couldn’t help but have hoped he would still be there when she came back.

Shaking her head, she stops walking, “I…I can’t, Curly. I shouldn’t have come.” Turning around, she takes off back towards her car.

“Morgan, wait!” Curly calls back.

Sawyer’s head snaps in their direction, “Morgan?”

#pixelberry #choices #choices fanfiction #big sky country #choices bsc #morgan x sawyer

[bolbianddolanhouse]

BNHA self insert AU

Nani the heck is this? Read here!

Chapter 20: What’s the Tea Sis?

It’s the day of the interview and our class was very excited to dress up like we were going to the Gala or some shit. I get visibly giddy and everyone outside the program notices.

“Iida-kun she’s in a good mood!” Kirishima nudges him in the locker rooms after in class training “you should ask her for that coffee date after finals before she gets busy.”

“I’ll ask her when we get to the dorms” Iida buttons up his shirt “she might be pretending again and she’s really stressed and bothered by something we did.”

“How do you know that’s what she does?” Mineta asks suspiciously.

“Because I always catch her when I think she’s a good mood to talk about things and she’s on the verge of going off on us.”

“Oof yea wait until then” responded Sero.

The rest of my day went uneventful and I teleported to my dorm the minute school let out for the day. I took my shower and finished before everyone came back from school. Right on the dot, Mimi and Jin portal in my room at 4pm with their outfits get coordinated. I get to flat ironing Mimi’s hair as Jin brushed Muffin 2.0′s fur, I do a dewy look on Mimi to make her eyes pop. I put my hair in a slicked back high sock bun and do a gold eye with glitter gloss, just to make things simple. Once the outfits were put on and we saw each other in the mirror together, we gasped on how much CEO realness we were serving.

“Ladies, shall we sashay out of this building to give these hero wannabes the full fantasy?” Jin got the leash that we put on the robo dog.

“Yes gawd! I wanna serve looks tonight~” I tongue popped like I was a drag queen.

We walk out, radiating power to whoever saw us.

“Oh Palma-san! What opulence you display” Aoyama came up to us as he grabbed my hand and Mimi’s “you ladies are what my dreams are made of” he kisses our hands “And you good sir are one lucky man to prance with these shining beauties!~”

Mimi gives me side eye “You aren’t kidding when you say some of them just throw themselves onto you when dressed up.” She takes out her sliver gun and points it to Aoyama “un-hand us croissant muncher, we got places to go.”

He immediately takes his hands away and backs up, all the boys were cackling at Mimi’s comment. Iida comes up to us and gives me the once over “In all seriousness, where are you 3 going?”

“Mission, top secret” Jin was lying through his teeth but we played along “If successful, we’ll come back richer. If we lose, we might not be coming back at all.”

“Yes, so I guess this is my good bye everyone” I try not to laugh “just in case we slip up.”

We quickly run through the portal Jin deployed so nobody had time to stop us. We laugh at my car as we waited on our other classmates to come out. On the way there, we pass by were I was housed and were Jin was housed. The location was just where the business district begins, not too far into town. We gathered in the parking lot and heading in just in time to give our presentations. There was panel of 3 people, 2 men and one woman in their late 40′s, dressed in executive like clothing. One of the men was clearly an ex-agent, the way he carried himself and the holsters on his waist were branded with a crest that I couldn’t recognize. We started with our term 1 projects, to nobody’s surprise, the robot dog took the interest of the panel. Next was a slide-show presentation of our year in pictures and all of us had a turn talking, the woman spoke up when we talked about Zippy.

“Waitwaitwaitwait! You, as a class, adopted this creature and TRAINED it to hold a gun?” she was having trouble putting it into words “and then you committed FRAUD to the agent board of education to let them give the lizard the test, passing him as a student and he received a license upon passing?!”

“Erm yes” Jin spoke up “but to be fair to the board of education that was present at the licensing exam, they didn’t check the roster nor looked up the student ID we gave them, it wasn’t in our school system and it was just ‘69′ 5 times on a faked school ID card.”

“Wow, a group 9 teens and a lizard outsmarting the board of education” said the other man to the ex-agent “impressive ain’t it? Remind you of old times?”

“Heh, those old geezers don’t know how to run shit” said the ex-agent, remising on his past “ok sorry for the derailment, please continue.”

We continued our presentation and they asked us a few more questions about our living space and off-campus trips. Some questions on our pro-hero practice exam came up and how was our experience with that.

“With your donation” I led into the closing statements “we’d have a better living space and more off-campus trips, despite the villain threat.”

“All we ask are those things” Hansai wrapped things up.

The panel thinks for a bit and talk amongst themselves like they aren’t sure if we are worthy candidates, the ex-agent turned to us for a final question.

“Not that it’ll matter, but how did you get here tonight?”

“Oh we took 3 carpools to get here” I spoke up “the school denied us a bus or limo because it wasn’t in the budget.”

The woman gave us a concerned look “How dare they deny basics! I’d had it with these pompous hero schools trying to suppress their agents!” she stood up and copied herself into 9 copies of herself “congratulations UA Intel A-class, you are our next donation recipients.” She came up to us and shook our hands, I took a peek at her appearance. She was a private agent, the ring she wore was stamped with the Emperor’s Coup crest, one of the highest ranked agencies that work closely with the country’s intelligence. Not to mention, she had a vine tattoo that crept up her right arm, don’t know what that means but it was a nice piece. We stayed a bit longer to thank them before heading back to the cars to debrief. 

“Ok kids, let me say, I’m proud of you for swaying them to giving us the money” Diya sensei started “but I want all of you to get your butts to bed! It’s nearing 8pm and I’m not going to play games with you tomorrow morning. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir” we said weakly, Jin raised his hand.

“Yes Matsui?”

“Can we get McDonalds? Under the condition that we pay for our own stuff and drive thru only?”

Diya thinks about it “If you give those conditions, then I don’t see why not.”

We cheer and Jin gets cocky as we pile in the cars to get to the nearest McDonalds, he plays Lip Gloss by Lil Mama on the way. We get our food and get so excited to go eat our food knowing we deserve it. I park and see my classmates off to their dorms, I teleport to the commons room, it’s empty and quiet. I don’t think much of it and I walk over to my room. I turn on my light and see Iida on my bed, tear stained like he was crying for hours.

“Oh my god!” I put my stuff down and run to him “What happened? Are you ok?” I put my hand on his face to check his vitals, he was alright but I was still concerned.

“You’re back! I was so afraid you weren’t coming back!” he held me “please, please take me with you on your missions. I don’t think I can live with myself if you got hurt or worse.”

I was confused at first and then I remembered that Jin lied to them, I was about to continue on the lie “Thank you for your concern but I’m fine! It was a success and nobody got hurt” I wiped his tears with my thumb “no more tears, come on big guy.” I levitated him up from my bed and to his room “I have some debriefing to do before bed and it’s way past your bedtime!” I plop him down on his bed and turn to leave.

“Wait! Ita” I turn to see him and he’s sitting up on his bed “I need to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

His mind blanked the moment I said that, we stood in silence as he turned red “Umm that I am so grateful that you’re alive and well!” he rushed his words “and I would love to spend this cold season with you.”

“I don’t know what all that means but um thanks?” I really didn’t know why he said any of that “well good night Tenya, sweet dreams.”

He waved good bye to me and screamed into his pillow because he messed up his wording. He meant to say ‘I’m glad you’re safe and let’s spend the winter season together after finals.’ “Why am I like this?” he spoke into the pillow “one look and my mind goes blank like I don’t have motor functions.” 

Next few days were my insanity days with studying and training for the crackheads. All us intel kids were really holding it together to take our 200 question multiple choice final on Tuesday. It would’ve been fine but it was just so much to take in one sitting, I finished in an hour and 24 minutes, you bet I floated my ass to the ceiling to weep to myself for comfort. Everyone else finished before lunch but I still had to go to hero class, I was too mentally exhausted to teleport so I walked. As I calmed myself to go to class, I run into the Big 3.

“Ah Palma-san!” Nejire waved me down “its been too long!”

“hahaha yea! It’s like I’ve been avoiding yall” I was uncomfortable but trying to be polite “are you 3 ready to graduate?”

“Ye-yea, we can’t wait to get out there in the workforce” Amajiki seemed a little more confident.

“Yes! And I would like to extend the invitation to attend our graduation” Mirio bowed as he handed me an envelope with my name on it “and also to my graduation party, since I know you like parties.”

“Oh thank you, I’ll be there!” I got giddy “see you then! I gotta get to class.” I waved them off as I briskly walked to class to flex on my classmates that I got personally invited to the graduation ceremony. But then I hear another voice call out my name.

“Palma-san! Hey over here!” it was Kendo and she looked worried.

“Oh? Hi Kendo-san, how are you doing today?”

“I’m feeling a little stressed but alright, thanks for asking” she shifts from a small smile to worried again “hey I heard about you cutting off Monoma, and I don’t blame you, thats not why I approached you.”

“Hmm, is he getting worse?” 

“Yea, he just isn’t motivated like he used to” she exhaled “the exam is tomorrow and he has one shoddy technique to show for all that time you spent with him, I just want to apologize for all that wasted time and his bad attitude.”

“No need to apologize, I knew what I was getting myself into” I sighed “if he wants to come back to technique developing with me, he’s more than welcome at any time but I already told him that he needs an attitude change if he wants to get far.”

“He didn’t mention that to me” she gave me a small smile “all he said that he liked you and wanted to win you over by improving before the next term starts.”

“Heh I don’t believe that liking me part” I laughed “but I’m looking forward to him improving.” I look at the time “oh jeez, gotta run Kendo! See you around, good luck tomorrow!”

She waved me off as I ran to class, and just in time too. I spend the class time with the final session of training and I really pushed it a bit to my ability and almost fucked myself up. But then I got fucked over because Mina wasn’t aware of her surroundings and almost got rekt by Bakugo’s blast wave, I used my teleportation to get her to safety but completely exhausted my mental capacity. 

“Oh my gosh Palma-san!” screamed Mina as I was face down on the ground “please please wake up! I’m sorry I was being a dumb bitch and you sacrificed yourself!” She was bawling as she shook my limp body.

“Binch I’m conscious, stop shaking me!” I groaned “flip me over tho.” She flips me over and I gasped for air “oof there’s rocks in my bra and ass bruh.”

Everyone stops and gathers around me, Aizawa breaks them up and kneels at me “Are you good Miss Palma? You were about to tap out before that tackle.”

“Nah nah I’m good” I wasn’t okay but I’m no bitch “lemme just get up.” I didn’t move as I tried to levitate up “Okaaay, let try the old fashioned way, hup!” I tried to sit up and could barely lift my head, I sighed in defeat “oh dear, I may have exhausted myself. How annoying!”

“Aww fuck sorry Palma” Bakugo apologized “here let me take you to the nurse.” he picks me up with some struggle. Iida runs up to us.

“No please allow me Bakugo I can-”

“Fuck off four eyes” he snapped “just because you like to baby her doesn’t mean you’re the only one that should help her.”

“Just hand her to me! You’re struggling to carry her” Iida wasn’t playing games, he took her from his arms. They started to fight over her on who was take her to the nurse.

“Um guys?” Midoriya started as he saw me slip into unconsciousness.

“STOP SHE’S SLIPPING INTO UNCONSCIOUSNESS!” Aizawa yelled as he activated his erasure for safety. “I’m going to take her to the nurse, class is over.”

I wake up in the nurse’s office and Recovery Girl was relieved “Oh good you woke up, you really pushed yourself Miss Palma.”

“I did?” I sat up and now I could actually move my body.

“Yes, I did a scan and your body was exhausted but your brain waves are strained and weakened.” She showed me a graph of the waves “here, it’s pretty close to unstable levels, I’m prescribing 5 days no quirk using.”

“Alright, I can deal with that” I sighed “at least it’s not going to get in the way of anything now that school is letting out.” I get released in time to go to Stats and Strats. I take the final and we were allowed to leave when we finished. Jin and I finish at around the same time and he portals me to my room to go into deep sleep. I change out of my uniform and go to sleep right away. I woke up close to 7pm, fuck I missed dinner I thought as my stomach growled I guess I’ll fuck off and eat yogurt and berries. I walk out to the kitchen and see the lights are dimmed and there was a plate of food on the counter. I wasn’t sure if it was for me but then I saw the note with my name on it: For Palma-san, sorry for being dumb.

“Well at least they know they’re dumb” I said as I sat down to eat. Before I could bring my fork to my mouth, somebody flipped on the light to full brightness. “Ay! mis ojos!”

“Oh sorry Palma-san!” Iida apologized and dimmed the lights again “I didn’t know you woke up.”

“Yea I did” I rubbed my eyes “I’m so hungry and just want to sleep for a few days to heal myself.”

“I’m sorry that we’ve been so inconsiderate of your health” he sat next to me “but let me make it up to you” he put his hand on my hand “lets go to coffee after finals tomorrow, to take the edge off.”

“Oh I’d love to but I got invited to graduation and a graduation party” I said to not sound like I didn’t want to spend time with him “maybe next week? I’m not doing anything and I really want to spend time with you again.”

He perked up “Really? You like to spend time with me?”

“Yea! You’re a great at conversation and I love how you willingly go where I want to go” I don’t see his face but he’s blushing “In America, I never got to do what I wanted and others often didn’t want to talk to me more than they wanted to. But when we have our alone time, I get heard and cherished like I’ve always wanted to.” I look at him and he tenses up “you’re one of my only friends Tenya, I don’t know where I’d be without you. And not to sound like a shojo beat manga but, you’re one of few that I have that I consider my chosen family.”

“Chosen family?” he asked with curiosity “whats that?”

“Oh um it’s a group of people you trust and get along with more than your own family” I explained “in this case, I’m separated from mine so I find trust and comfort in you, my squadron and Midnight.”

“I see now, I feel honored that you have me in that circle” he hugged me “thank you for seeing me as such.”

“No thank you, for approaching me on that day” I nestled myself in his chest “also I don’t know if this is weird but you’ve been improving on your hugs” I tighten my hug “they’re much less soul crushing and more gentle and caring, like the ones my dad gives me when I’m too stressed to close my eyes. He would hold me like this until I fall asleep.”

I yawned and he saw how relaxed I got “I will keep that in mind when you can’t sleep.” He let me finish eating before I fell asleep on the counter. I went to bed again and was very excited to see what’s going to unfold.

-The next day, sitting in on the hero placement exam-

I sit behind safety glass to observe all the hero courses go at it to show their skills. I was the only student in the small audience, everyone else was a teacher or staff member.

“So this is the legend herself” a deep male voice said behind me “Miss Palma, American born, double wielder and the most patient young lady in the world.”

I turn and see Vlad sensei “Oh! hello, I don’t know about all that but yes, I am Miss Palma.”

“You’ve put in great work to help my students to be better strategists and develop techniques” he bowed to me “thank you for your generosity and I apologize on behalf of Monoma for being a stress on your time with him.”

“Oh its not a problem! He’s welcome to seek me out when he changes his mentality on respect.”

“Thats a reasonable compromise” the siren rings to warn the students to be at the starting gates “I hope this will change his mind about it.”

I tried not to root for any one or scream when they’re fucking up. I saw alot of my techniques out on that field and it was a bit strange for me. Not because it’s my techniques but its because they found it useful enough to keep it in their repertoire. It ended and they got the final results but they won’t know until after school, but I got the insider scoop and the one person thats going in A class is  Shinso. Aizawa and I got really excited since he sought us out for his training and it payed off. I meet up with the others when they dressed and I let them know I was in the audience. After lunch, I took my hero course final with Aizawa and it was not as bad as I thought. There was no Stats and Strats because graduation. I attended their graduation in the auditorium, it was really nice, way better than American high school graduation. I got to see the Big 3 in each program and what made them the Big 3. Afterwards when I went up to the graduates, I was given a uniform button from Mirio, Amajiki, Agent 420 and some girl in Mirio’s class that everyone called SeaWitch (she has an amphibious quirk). I didn’t know what it all meant but I was polite and said my thank yous. I drove back to the dorms to change for the party later.

“Oh you’re back!” Hagakure jumped up “how was it? did you get any buttons?”

“How did you know I got buttons?”

All the girls gasped and swarmed me “SHOW US THE BUTTONS!” they all chanted.

“Oh jeez it must be a huge deal” I show them the 4 buttons “I got one from Mirio, Amajiki, a 3rd year in intelligence and from that one girl in 3rd year that turns into a mermaid.”

“I can’t believe it! Four buttons!” Momo looked at me with envy “I’d be lucky to even get one!”

“Not to be a baka-gaijin” I got shy because I have no idea “but what’s so special about getting a button?”

“Oh thats right! You don’t know about these little gestures” Uraraka remembers that I wasn’t born here “when you get a button from a graduate, that means they’re confessing that they liked you and never got the chance to tell you. It’s almost like a last chance to tell them you like them and maybe you’ll start dating or be friends.”

“Oh I see” I look at the buttons on my hand and remembered their faces when they gave me the button “its gonna get super awkward at Mirio’s party because I’m going and so are all the people that gave me buttons.”

“Oh dear that sounds sooooo awful” Jiro said sarcastically “I hate it when all my love interests are all at the same party I am!”

“Jiro-chan! you don’t have to put it like that!” elbowed Mina.

I shrugged it off and I dressed to go to his party. Now, I was under the impression that it was a clean party and his parents are going to be there so I should wear something to cover my tattoos and it should be cute and simple. I drive to his place and arrive at around 7pm, a bit after what the invite said. I enter and its a house party, no parents in sight, booze chilled, music starting to pop BUT the guests aren’t really partaking in the booze.

“HEY YOU MADE IT!” it was Mirio coming at me at full speed.

I dodge his hug tackle “Yes I’ve arrived, glad to see that you have your pants on.” 

“Lil mama! Come here, I saved you a seat” it was agent 420 and he was patting his lap.

I wasn’t that into him but I also didn’t want to talk to Mirio all night. I walked over and he proceeded to confess. Not to really shit on his feelings but I softly let him down and he just accepted it like a champ. I didn’t really drink or had fun, the music was garbage but the food was great! It was 9pm, I was sober again and the party was basically dead. I went to the kitchen to see what type of cereal they had because I was that bored, couldn’t find the cereal but I saw in the kitchen window the things going on there. There was SeaWitch and her friends just sitting in a bunch of kiddie pools. I walk out there and asked if I could join them because I hated what was going on inside the house. They let me sit with them and I found out SeaWitch’s real name, Its Mary Kuna. She then confessed to me and I had to say that while I don’t feel the same, I support her in coming out via button to me. I chat with everyone in the kiddie pools and I hear my name being called out.

“Oh hey its Mirio-san and Han-san” Mary pointed out with a cup in her hand.

“So thats his last name” I said softly as I turn to see Mirio, agent 420 and Amajiki hiding behind Mirio “whats the haps fellas?”

“We were talking and we came to a conclusion” Mirio spoke with his arms crossed “you aren’t having fun and you haven’t been paying much attention to us after confessing but are having fun out here with the water dwellers.”

“So heres the deal lil mama” agent 420 leaned in “you gotta choose between us if you want to have some fun and we’ll make it worth while and if you want to leave you have to kiss one of us.”

I was disgusted by this display, they were playing against me to choose for my freedom. But I had a plan “So I have to choose somebody that confessed to me to stay and have fun or kiss them to leave?” I asked to the 3 boys for clarity.

“Yes that is correct” said Mirio very eagerly like I was going to choose him.

I turn to Mary “May I have this kiss? I’ve had fun with you and I feel very unsafe being pressured to choose between naked man, weed number and shy McGee.” She nods and we give a very light kiss and I stand up from the kiddie pool I was sitting in “Now that I made my decision, I’ll be taking my leave from one of the lamest parties I’ve been invited to.”

“Wait up, let me walk you to your car” Mary stood up and retract her scales and fins “I’d hate to see any of these boys following you and pressure you to do anything else.” She put her arm through mine and her friends also stood up to escort me. “If you 3 do so much as follow us outside, you’ll have to face the wrath of me and my friends. I don’t care how strong you are, you don’t pressure girls to kiss you if they want to leave. I hope you 3 never reproduce!”

I was floored by the power of those words and how it made the boys back off. When they took me to my car, I hugged all of them for coming to my aid. We exchanged social media handles and then I left. It was a bit past 10pm when I got to the dorms, everyone was in their rooms and didn’t notice when I got there. I changed out of my wet clothes and got into bed. The next day, I woke up at exactly 10am and I was pumped because it was finally winter break, christmas was a week away and school resumes a few days before the start of February. I come out of my room and straight to the kitchen and everyone greeted me and my brain cells weren’t clocked in to do their job.

“Good morning! FELLAS!” I spot the baguette on the counter “is it gay? to eat bread?!” I hit the hardest dab anyone has ever seen.  The girls were confused but the boys laughed but then got serious like they were pondering on my question.

“Wait! IS it gay to eat bread?” asked Sero as he looked at his plate “I mean it’s in the shape of a dick.”

“GUYS! with that logic” Mineta said with wide eyes “breadsticks, bread DICKS!” I wish I knew how to describe the room with the boys hollering that they confirmed that eating bread is gay and the girls now more confused than ever before. All the while I was just standing there and I wasn’t being serious. Bakugo and Kirishima come to the kitchen.

“Guys! do you think eating bread is gay?!” Kaminari asked the other two.

“What kind of- WHO SAID THAT SHIT?!” Bakugo yelled, ready to fight whoever said that.

“Woah woah woah there Bakugo!” Kirishima tried to level the situation “I firmly believe eating bread is gay on the account that you use your mouth to eat a dick shaped thing BUT I will never give up bread.”

I crept my way to the coffee maker because I did not want to get bashed for being on my dumb shit so early. Todoroki and Midoriya then enter. Same question asked, but this time Midoriya pondered the question and Todoroki went back to his room. Iida then came in and locked eyes with me but he was soon hit with the question.

“Iida-kun! Is it gay to eat bread?” Mineta spoke up.

“HOW IS IT HOMOSEXUAL TO EAT BREAD?!” he yelled and chopped furiously at that dumb shit.

“Palma-san brought it up and I need your opinion” Mineta retorted “are you pro-bread or not gay?”

“Wait- PALMA-SAN SAID THAT DUMB SHIT?!” Bakugo yelled as I was about to eat a piece of the baguette “do you have any idea the fuckery you just caused?!”

“To be fair” I put my bread down “I just asked the question, Mineta took it to the extreme with the bread politics. I don’t think bread is gay but if it was, I’m still going to eat it.”

Breakfast was calmer after that and I was sitting in the commons room to see the pictures of last night’s lame ass party. Iida came up to me “Hey um mind if I sit with you?”

“Hm? Oh sure go ahead.” I was distracted by the video of the mini fight that broke out after I left the party.

“How was the party?” he asked as he scanned my neck for any hickeys.

“Eh it was lame, Mirio tried to kiss me and it wasn’t fun because everyone doesn’t know how to have fun at one. I made a new friend and I came to the dorms at around 10 last night.”

“Wow it must’ve been lame if you came back so early” he tried to change the subject “so um now that you’re indefinitely free until school starts...do you want to plan some things with me?”

“You want to plan more than just that coffee?” I locked my phone and thought about it “what did you have in mind?”

His mind blanked, he didn’t think she’d pick up that he wanted to plan more things “Um like maybe spending Christmas with my family, going to the farmers market, going to a skating rink...”

“Woah slow down there Tenya” he was talking so quick I couldn’t pick up what he was saying “lets just set the day for the coffee!...how does Monday sound?”

“That sounds great! I guess we’ll talk more about other plans later.”

Before I could say anything, Midnight walks in “Oh Itati! Just the girl I was looking for” she was carrying a small box and a folder that I recognized as my official documents folder “I have a delivery and good news.”

“Thats great!” I jumped up “lets go to my room then.”

“Why can’t it be discussed out here?” asked Iida suspiciously.

“Don’t be nosey Tenya” scolded Midnight “you and your brother have a habit of being up in everyone’s personal business. And this is no exception, if you could please give us some privacy.”

“Sorry, but she’s right” I stood up “girl stuff, you wouldn’t understand.”

“I see” he didn’t understand what that meant “I’ll be going now.”

We go into my room and she hands me the package as she sits down “Ok so I got your feminine hygiene products and good news!”

“Alright, whats the news?”

“Since your program got the large donation, the whole intel dorm is going to be redone and will accommodate for all the incoming for A class. In addition, we’ve accelerated your switch over and you’ll be moving to the proper dorms on Feburary 7th, your birthday!”

My jaw dropped “Really?! Now I’m super excited!”

“Yes, now for the good but a bit boring news.” she takes out a few documents “heres a peek at your 2nd year schedule, as you can see there’s a lot of holes in it. You have options of taking up another non-general ed course, take up 2 free periods or do some under-study credit and assist Mic in the advanced english courses.”

I look over the schedule and I have homeroom, vehicles and mechanics, Math 2, Strategy and Communications and an empty space. “I see that I don’t come in for the hero course strategy and communications until 2nd term?”

“Oh since you took a 3rd year course this past school year and passed, you have a free pass for any other strategy based course work. That class is 1st term strategy and 2nd term hero to control center communications.”

“oh alright, then I can I do a combo of having that term 1 hole as my free period and the empty slot as understudy for Mic?”

“You got it” She took the document back to write my request “Alright that’s all for now, we’ll be releasing the official schedule the week before school starts. Stay warm and be safe Itati, you can call me anytime if you need anything.”

“Thank you Midnight” I hugged her “I’m so fortunate to have you as my adult reliance, I appreciate you.”

“Aww stop I’m going to cry” she said welling up with tears “it was the least I could do.”

She leaves and I get to putting away my products. I keep thinking about my move in and how things are going the way I want them to. It’s finally not a huge dumpster fire that I didn’t cause but have to deal with.

-End Chapter 20-

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#bnha #mha #self insert au #not canon #chapter 20 #will update regularly #ask me anything

[secretkidcolor]

This Scene Takes Three: The Retrograde Gathering of Fun Seekers

Continuation of a series I started a year ago whoops! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Brady had sprayed and wiped at the spot on the table five times now, and it still hadn't gone away. He wasn't sure what it was from. It was about the size of a quarter and easily noticeable against the dark wood. If he had to guess, it was from a glass. Normally they just ignored it, or if necessary covered it up with a place mat, but this time was different. They had guests coming over, and Brady had been taught from a very young age that guests deserved only the best.

Owain had a different mindset however. "Sweetheart," he said gently, stopping Brady's hands with his own, "as much as I admire your dedication to perfecting our home, I don't think a couple of eight year-olds will so much as notice a spot on the table."

Brady sighed and set aside the rag he was using. "Yer right," he sighed. "I just want the house to look perfect. Ophelia hasn't had a play date here in a couple of months. It's always been at someone else's house. What if she's just embarrassed of people seeing where she lives? What if-"

"Ophelia's been talking non-stop about all the things she and her friends are going to do today," Owain reminded him. "It's been the only thing on her mind for the past week. She wouldn't do that if she was embarrassed of the house."

To emphasize the point, he glanced around the kitchen. The house actually belonged to Brady's mother, as Owain was still looking for work and Brady's hours at the hospital were shorter now that Ophelia was out of school for the summer. They would have been more than happy to get an apartment, but Maribelle insisted she do this for them. She had dipped into some inheritance from a rich uncle or maybe her father, her entire family tree just confused Owain, and bought them the house. It was a gesture they were extremely grateful for, even if it made Brady anxious about keeping it clean.

While she was a doting mother, Maribelle wasn't going to hand everything to her son. Owain and Brady were in charge of paying utilities and any other upkeep, but Maribelle's name was on all the other paperwork. And of course they had to deal with her almost daily calls or visits to look at the house.

A door could be heard opening upstairs, meaning the third member of the family was now up. Brady lowered his voice. "What if," he said, "what if it's not the house she's embarrassed of. What if it's us?"

Owain's smile faltered. This had been a common worry of Brady's since the day Ophelia didn't need him to walk her into her classroom at school. It was a natural worry, his own mother had told him, that children were growing up and might not need their parents around.

"Ophelia would never been embarrassed by us," Owain said firmly. "Why would she? We're great!"

Before Brady could give a response, they heard the pitter-patter of feet running down the stairs. Ophelia burst into the kitchen, still in her pajamas.

"Good morning my little Chosen One," Owain greeted, opening the pantry to retrieve a box of Ophelia's favorite cereal. Brady didn't like buying it, said it had more marshmallows than actual cereal pieces, but Owain couldn't deny her something like that.

"Morning Daddy!" Ophelia said, climbing onto a chair and sitting on her knees so she could look taller. Owain handed her a spoon and poured some milk into her cereal bowl. "Do you know what day it is?"

"Hm..." Owain said, thinking for a long time. "I'm not sure...dear do you know what day it is?" Ophelia rolled her eyes and turned to look at Brady.

Brady raised an eyebrow, but quickly caught on. "Oh...uh...it's Tuesday. Right?"

"Noooooooo," Ophelia said with a huff. "Today's the day that Soleil comes over!"

Owain gasped. "Oh! Is that today?" He asked. He made a show of looking at the calendar, where the day was neatly marked with the words "Ophelia's Friends Come Over". "By the gods, it is! What a glorious turn of events."

"I can't believe you forgot," Ophelia said, shaking her head and crossing her arms. "When's Soleil getting here?"

"Not until later darling," Owain answered. "And remember, it's not just Soleil who's going to be here."

"Oh," Ophelia replied, looking down at her cereal. "Yeah...and Nina." The kitchen was silent for a little bit before Ophelia spoke up again. "Why does she have to come here?"

"Nina's your friend," Brady pointed out.

"No," Ophelia corrected, "she's Soleil's friend. And all they do is fight."

"Nina invited you to her house that one time," Owain reminded her. "It's honorable and polite to invite her over to your house in return."

"Okay..." Ophelia sighed. She finished her cereal and hopped off the chair. "I'm going to go get ready!"

"What are you going to do during yer play date?" Brady asked.

"Daaaaaad," Ophelia groaned, "they're not called 'play dates' anymore. It's called 'hanging out'."

"Oh, sorry," Brady mumbled, "well what are you going to do while yer hanging out? Have a tea party or something? I can make you some real tea-"

"Go on an adventure!" Ophelia declared excitedly. "An adventure so great and mysterious I won't even know what to name it until after it's over."

Ophelia had developed a habit of naming things nobody would think needed to be named. It was Owain's fault, always spending time naming scenes or characters from whatever play he was interested in. It had quickly rubbed off on Ophelia and Owain was too proud to tell her to stop.

Ophelia ran upstairs to go get dressed. Owain gave Brady a smile. "A tea party?" He said with a laugh.

"That's what I did when I had play-" Brady sighed, "I mean, when I 'hung out'. I better go make sure she's wearing somethin' nice an' not an old Halloween costume."

Once Ophelia was, begrudgingly, dressed appropriately, the process of waiting for her friends to arrive began. Ophelia waited impatiently in the living room, glancing out the window every five seconds to see if a car was pulling up in the driveway. Ironically, it was when she had taken a break to use the bathroom that a minivan appeared in front of the house.

Owain opened the door and walked down the front steps. Two little girls, one wearing an ornate headband in her long pink hair and the other with two dark blue pigtails, ran out of the vehicle and toward the front door.

"Inigo my friend!" Owain called to the main getting out of the van. "While I am happy to see you once again, I had been hoping that Niles would be dropping Nina off separately so we could catch up."

Inigo just laughed and shook his head. "Always one for wasting words I see," he said. "Niles called me last minute and asked if I could drive Nina. He was caught up with something at work and Corrin had to take Kana to the doctor."

Owain frowned. "Well I hope he's alright," he said. Niles' work wasn't the safest at times, and getting caught up with something could mean a number of things. "Anyways, it's good to see you again."

"It's only been a couple of days," Inigo chided. "You couldn't miss me-"

"SOLEIL!" Ophelia cried, running out the front door and into her friend's waiting arms. The two girls jumped up and down excitedly for a couple of seconds, leaving Nina awkwardly standing off to the side. "Oh, and...hi Nina." Owain glared at her. She glared back before grabbing both girls' hands and pulling them into the house where Brady was waiting.

"I wish we had more time to talk," Inigo admitted, "but I've got to get going, dance practice and all." He looked off to the side and then squinted. "Is that...is that Severa?"

Owain turned to look in the same direction, and sure enough a candy apple red sports car was indeed speeding down the street. It came screeching to a stop at the end of Owain's driveway. The driver's door was thrown open and out stepped a woman who was clearly pissed off about something. Her large, red twin pigtails shook vigorously as she opened up the passenger side door and helped someone else out of the car.

At first, both Owain and Inigo thought it was Severa's mother. It took them a few seconds to realize that it was just a young girl that looked like Severa's mother.

"Um, is there a problem?" Severa asked as she and the girl walked up the driveway. The girl watched Severa, trying to copy the angry way she stormed up the cement slope, but ended up stumbling and almost falling completely.

"Is that your daughter?" Owain asked.

Severa rolled her eyes. "No," she said, "it's some random girl I kidnapped and brought to your house. Any more stupid questions?"

"I"m Caeldori," the girl said brightly, sticking out her hand to shook Owain's hand, and then Inigo's, before looking back at Owain. "My mom took me to see one of your shows. You played the man with the trumpet. That was really funny!"

"I didn't know you went to see that show," Owain exclaimed. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Must have slipped my mind," Severa mumbled, her face taking on a slight pink tinge. "Anyways, this is my daughter. Now you've met. I'll pick her up at three." She put her hand on the girl's shoulder, but didn't look at her. "Be good." Owain and Inigo exchanged glances. "What? Aren't you going to show her inside?"

The front door opened and Brady stepped outside. "Hey are you guys done talking- oh hey Severa!"

"Oh gawds," Severa sighed. "Caeldori, that's Brady, remember me telling you about him?"

"Is he the one that helped you become less shy in school?" Caeldori asked.

"Gah, yes, b-but that's private!" Severa said, getting flustered. "Just go inside!" Caeldori nodded obediently and walked toward Brady, who paused for a second, before kneeling down to talk to her before leading her inside. "What now?!" Severa snapped, since Owain and Inigo were now staring at her.

"Did you just dump your kid at their house?" Inigo asked, folding his arms over his chest. "That's low even for you."

"We're always happy to have guests over," Owain said, stepping between the two. He then gave Severa an apologetic look. "But we would have appreciated you calling first. Ophelia made plans to have some friends over today"

"Fine," Severa huffed, not making eye contact, "sorry I forgot you two were Parents of the Year. I have to work and it's not exactly appropriate to take your daughter with you to a domestic abuse shelter." She sighed. "I just...knew she'd have a potential friend here."

"Where's Mr. Perfect?" Inigo asked.

"Work," Severa said, glaring due to the nickname, "I was going to have him drop Caeldori off but given how wonderful the last time the three of you were together went-"

"Hey we apologized for calling him...Suckbaki," Owain said, holding back a laugh.

"And Subadouche," Inigo added, "although punching him in the face is something we didn't apologize for."

"I was there," Severa said flatly. "Anyways, I'm sorry for the short notice or whatever. I only work until two-thirty and then I can come back and pick her up."

"You know she looks a lot like," Owain began, but Severa's narrowing eyes made him stop. "Right, she'll be just fine in our care. Brady and I will watch over her with honor and guard her with our lives should the need ever arise-"

"I get it, gawds," Severa interrupted. "Geez, this is why I never tell you when I go to your shows. You're so damn extra. Nice seeing you, jerks!" With a super aggressive wave, she stormed back down the driveway, got in her car, and sped off.

The two men watched the now empty spot in the street for a few seconds, before Inigo mumbled "Suckbaki" under his breath and the two burst into a fit of laughter. Inigo bid Owain farewell and left for his dance practice, and Owain returned to his house.

Brady was waiting for him in the living room. "Everything alright with Severa?" He asked worriedly.

"Fear not my love," Owain said, grinning and wrapping his arms around Brady. "Our dear friend is merely occupied with her honorable duty, and must entrust her daughter with us for the day."

"So she's fine then," Brady said, only cracking half a smile. "I'm glad. I showed Caeldori to Ophelia's room. I think Ophelia was glad to have a fourth person so she doesn't feel left out when Nina and Soleil start to argue."

"Excellent," Owain said, arms still around Brady, "that means we can just sit and-" He stopped as he noticed Caeldori coming down the stairs. Owain let go of Brady and walked over to the girl.

"Excuse me Mr. Owain," Caeldori said politely, thinking over each word before saying it. "Could you tell me where the bathroom is?"

"Sure," Owain replied, leading Caeldori to the bathroom. She thanked him and went inside. Owain returned to Brady in the living room. "Hard to believe she's so polite and yet she's Severa's daughter. You know she looks exactly like her mom. It's uncanny."

"I wonder what Severa thinks of that," Brady said softly. "I can't believe we've gone this long without seein' her. She's only two years older than Ophelia, and the last time I remember seein' her was a couple weeks after we brought Ophelia home." Owain vaguely recalled seeing a small toddler with bright red hair accompanying Severa, but nothing else.

There was some excited yelling coming from the upstairs, followed by Ophelia, Soleil, and Nina running down the steps. "We're going to the backyard!" Ophelia called out as she ran to unlock the backdoor so the three girls could play.

"Don't get all muddy!" Brady hollered back, but knew there was a good chance they would ignore him. A few seconds later Caeldori wandered back from the bathroom. "The rest of the girls just went outside," Brady told her.

"Oh," Caeldori said softly, "okay." She turned to look out the window and see the three girls playing around in the grass.

"Is everything okay?" Owain asked the girl. "Are the other girls taking turns and everything? If not I can go out there and make sure they're playing fairly."

"No they're taking turns," Caeldori reassured, "I just...don't play with a lot of kids. So I don't know how to play a lot of their games."

It probably doesn't help that Ophelia does nothing but make up her own games, both Brady and Owain thought. "Well," Owain said, "even if you don't know how to play them, I'm sure Ophelia would love to explain it if you asked." Caeldori just looked down at her feet. Apparently she was more than just physically similar to Severa's mother.

"Just watch them to start," Brady suggested. "If they're taking turns, offer to go last so you can see what the other three do. Then you can just try and copy the other three to figure it out."

Caeldori's face perked up. "I can do that!" She said, turning to run to the door to the backyard. As she opened it, she turned back to Brady. "My mom was right, you really are good with helping people!" Before Brady could stammer out a response, the girl had joined the others in some wild made up game of Ophelia's invention.

"I didn't know you gave so much advice," Owain teased.

"I just helped her get over a few things," Brady said, blushing. "It was nothin' important. At least, she didn't say it was or nothing'."

"Well what sort of advice would you have given me?" Owain asked curiously. "I had my fair share of things to get over."

Brady snorted. "Yourself maybe," he said. Owain feigned a hurt look. "Naw, I think you were perfect just the way you were. And still are." He leaned over to kiss Owain and nearly jumped as he saw a face pressed against the back window. He relaxed once he realized it was just one of the kids.

Nina was staring intensely at the two men, until Brady awkwardly waved and she dashed away from the glass. "Does she normally do that?" Brady asked, having not been around the child that often.

"I don't think so," Owain said, shrugging. "Niles is just a weirdo. His kid probably picked up his whole lurking thing too. Speaking of which, she's back."

Nina was now up in the tree in the backyard, poised on a branch that allowed her to see through the top of the window. Her pigtails gave her away, however, dangling below the cluster of leaves. Owain made a funny face and she nearly fell out of the tree.

"Be careful," Brady warned. "What do you think she's doing?"

"Probably just one of Ophelia's adventures," Owain said. "Maybe we're the bad guys in this one. Come on, let's go surprise 'em." The two men got up from the couch and walked over to the garage. It had a door that led to the backyard that was hidden behind a couple of shrubs. They quietly entered the yard and watching.

"Somebody come save me," Ophelia said in fake distress. She was standing sitting on a lawn chair with her hands behind her back, pretending to be tied up. "If only somebody could save me!" Then there was silence. "Soleil that's your guys' cue-"

"RAWR!" Owain bellowed, running out from behind the bushes and toward Ophelia.

"Oh no a giant's attacking!" Ophelia cried, actually screaming in surprise. Brady came following behind Owain, albeit not as dramatic. "Oh no there's two giants!"

"Uh, is this part of the plan?" Caeldori asked. She and Soleil were standing near the shed, holding a plastic golf club and a bucket respectively.

"I don't know," Soleil said with a shrug. "But we need to go save the girl and get our kiss, so let's go." She ran toward Ophelia and Caledori, not nearly as enthusiastic about recieving a kiss, followed. Soleil made it over to Owain, who had now picked Ophelia up out of the chair, and began hitting his leg with the plastic bucket. "In the name of all that is cute," Soleil yelled in as deep a voice as she could muster, "be gone!"

Owain took a fake stumble and set Ophelia down on the ground. Soleil, satisfied, grabbing Ophelia's hand and took her away from him. Caeldori, not sure what to do, tapped Owain's foot with her golf club. He made sure to seize dramatically to show he had been "hurt" and she ended up laughing before joining back up with Ophelia and Soleil.

"Daaaaaaad," Ophelia said once she had been rescued and given Soleil a kiss on the cheek, more so the girl would leave her alone about it, "there weren't supposed to be any giants in that story. Now I'll have to think of a new name for it."

"Sorry sweetheart," Owain chuckled, "but it looks like you're missing a member."

Ophelia looked around. "Ugh," she said, "Nina where are you?!"

The bushes near Brady rustled, making him jump back. Nina came tumbling out of them, a few scrapes on her arms, legs, and face. "I'm right here," she said.

"What were you doing in there?" Ophelia asked, putting her hands on her hips. "You were supposed to be rescuing me!"

"I was distracting the giants," Nina said, looking at Owain and Brady, "but they got past me. Sorry!"

"Okay," Ophelia sighed, "let's go back inside. I can show you guys the new doll I got. I got to name her all by myself." The girls went back inside, Soleil with her arm around Ophelia and Caeldori next to them actually listening to Ophelia's explanation of the name.

"Nina let's get you cleaned up first," Brady said, helping the girl to her feet. Nina just nodded and walked back inside. Brady helped her sit up on the kitchen counter while he got some bandages.

"I'm sorry for spying," she blurted out.

"Is that what you were doin'?" Brady asked as he gently wiped at the scrapes with a damp cloth. Nina nodded. "Well that's okay, unless something was wrong."

"No," Nina said, her voice barely above a whisper, "but...Ophelia's the only one I know with two dads." Brady stopped and looked at her, waiting for her to continue. "Um, besides me," Nina added. "I like knowing I'm not the only one. I just wanted to see if...if...if you guys were like my dads..."

"Ah, I see," Brady said. He reached into the box of child bandages and held up two bandages with different patterns. "Flowers or kittens?"

"Kittens," Nina said, pointing at the one she wanted.

"Those are my favorite," Brady said with a nod, making Nina smile. He began to cover the scrapes with the bandages. "So are we like your dads?"

"Kind of," Nina replied. "You smile at each other a lot, which is nice. And you hug and stuff. Daddy doesn't like to make as many jokes though. Papa makes him laugh though."

"That's good," Brady told her. He didn't know much about Nina's fathers. Owain knew Niles from a few years back, and Brady had met him several times. Corrin was a relatively new person in Niles' life, based on what Owain had told him. Niles had actually gotten custody of Nina before he met Corrin. It had been a few years now, but Brady understood Nina's curiosity.

"If you have any questions about it," Brady said gently, "you can always ask Ophelia."

"I don't think Ophelia likes me very much," Nina admitted.

"'Course she likes you," Brady promised. "And I'm sure if you asked she'd tell you all about it." He put on the last bandage. "Alright Miss, yer patched up."

"Thanks Mr. Brady," Nina said, letting him help her off the counter. She ran upstairs, leaving Brady in the kitchen, away silently sitting at the table, smiling.

"So Soleil's next up right?" Owain joked. Brady rolled his eyes. "I'm just kidding, if she's anything like her dad she's having the time of her life."

"She's eight," Brady scolded. Owain just laughed.

The two settled in and watched some TV, occasionally checking in on the girls. At lunch they served the girls sandwiches, applesauce, and animal crackers. Ophelia insisted on making the animal crackers "fight" by mashing two different shaped ones together.

"What about like this?" Caeldori asked, pressing an elephant cracker and a lion cracker together with her palms, making them break. Crumbs scattered all over her plate and onto the table. "Oh, sorry!" Instead of pointing out the mess, the others just laughed.

"I want to try it like that!" Ophelia said, clapping her hands together and smashing up two animal crackers. "Cool!" Nina and Soleil tried as well until most of their animal crackers were nothing more than a fine powder. Owain just squeezed Brady's hand to keep him from going over and cleaning up the mess. There would be time for that later.

The hours after lunch went by much faster, with the summer heat keeping the girls inside for the rest of the day. Soon Owain and Brady were greeted by Niles showing up at their door, ready to take Nina home.

"Did you have fun?" He asked his daughter, picking her up.

"Mhm," Nina replied, hugging Niles tightly.

"Woah!" He said with a laugh. "Did you miss me that much?"

"No, not really," Nina said, sticking her tongue out.

"Alright let's get you home," Niles said, shaking his head. He bid his friends farewell before getting Nina situated in the car.

Severa was next, this time in a surprisingly better mood. She didn't say much to her friends this time around, but her expression seemed grateful as Caeldori began to happily tell her what she had done all day. Inigo appeared shortly after and practically had to drag Soleil away from her best friend.

"I don't know how you two do it," Inigo chuckled, "four kids at once. I hope she wasn't too much trouble for you. I know she can get...intense at times."

"The other ones kept us on our toes, but Soleil was pretty relaxed the whole time," Brady admitted.

Inigo gave a full laugh this time around. "Well that's good to hear," he said, trying to keep Soleil from squirming out of his grip. "Let's do this again sometimes!" He gave them one final wave before carrying his daughter out to the car.

Brady and Owain fell back onto the couch, thoroughly exhausted from the day, but it wasn't over yet. Ophelia slowly came down the stairs and climbed onto the couch, sitting between her dads.

"Did you have fun today sweetheart?" Owain asked, grabbing her hand.

"Yeah," Ophelia replied with a yawn, "tons of fun. So much fun I was able to come up with a great name for today. The Retrograde Gathering of Fun Seekers!"

"Sounds like a perfect name," Owain declared. "Although now I think I need a nap. How about you Brady? Brady?" He looked over at Brady, who was snoring on the couch. Ophelia was also dozing peacefully. "Hey no fair!" He curled up on the couch and, making sure he wasn't going to fall onto his daughter, fell asleep with his family.

#writing #fanfiction #owain #brady #ophelia #soleil #caeldori #inigo #severa #udobure

[tayegi]

Its going downhill omg “And if I find out that you’ve let someone else touch what’s mine… You’ll regret it.” HE'S A PSYCHOPATH....I'm curious About what will happen between jimin and her while jungkook is away!

Anonymous said:I started getting creepy vibes from Jungkook in equilibrium back in ch 4 when the girl said she felt like he might hit her before he kissed her (which is not a normal feeling you should get from your lover, even fleetingly) and he just keeps getting worse. You're doing a great job at showing how unhappy she is so I think people who are defending jungkook are purposefully being blind cause you're clearly not portraying it as a healthy relationship and never have been. Hope you're doing well!

Anonymous said:The relationship the OC, Jungkook, and Jimin have in Equilibrium honestly makes me sad. Separately, I think they could be much happier but together they're toxic and destructive. None of them are doing something good because they're all using each other, and Jungkook's behavior is in no way "hot"... you've built an incredibly interesting story, and I'm excited to see where t goes!

Anonymous said:To the people who think jungkook in equilibrium: NO HE'S NOT. Honestly, I can't understand how people find him attractive still, but I'm going to try to guess. Maybe it's the idea of being so completely "loved" by someone or having them pour all of their attention onto you. But the thing is, you deserve better than some psycho who says they care. (1/2)

Anonymous said:You deserve someone who treats you like a human, not and object. You deserve to feel safe. to you, Lu: Thank you for writing such a beautifully morbid piece. I know it's not finished, and with all the frustrating responses it may be a lot to deal with at times since you're already so busy, but thank you. This story shows that relationships aren't always nice, or good, or healthy. It shows how tragic they can really be, and while someone may not be "good", they shouldn't have to deal with bs(2/2)

Anonymous said:It terrifies me that girls can find jungkook's character to still be attractive. There's a difference between someone being kinda protective or playfully jealous and straight up psychotic and possessive. I get that maybe it's like "oh but he was such a good guy" or that they're attached to an idea of jungkook in real life, but that doesn't make it any less concerning. In fact, it find it even more terrifying frankly. (1)

Anonymous said:The reason I find it more terrifying that people would still find him attractive if their reason is attachment to the real life human or previous attachment from earlier in the fic is that this is exactly how abusive relationships happen. It's not likely that someone will start off hitting you or being controlling on like the second week you're together. Everything will be close to perfect probably. (2)

Anonymous said:The whole issue (that I think your fic executes perfectly) is what happens when a relationship becomes something toxic, and this person (who you may or may not be in love with) becomes someone you never would have originally dated. But the inability to see the situation for what it is and to continue to idolize and love someone unconditionally is a huge concern. When you have to blur the lines of right and wrong for someone, chances are something is wrong. I just wish people could see that. (3)

Anonymous said:As someone who has been in a past relationship with him being possessive. It's not cute it's not sexy it's fucking terrible and terrifying. Lucky I was able to get out of it quickly. My older brother and mommy made a sure he would stay the hell away from me because he keep harassing me calls, texts, showing up at my house unannounced. Even tho this is a fanfic they are things people need to take seriously and not be light hearted about this.

Anonymous said:Ok honest time right now the new chapter of equilibrium gave a anxiety,It was just like I could feel the tension and the idk everything just coming over me and the times Jungkook said the oc was his and only his made me so uncomfortable and uneasy srsly it was like I was the one in an abusive relationship and then she tries to "escape" to Jimin and even then she can't because even subconsciously, idk if it makes sense,Jungkook its still trapping her and not letting go and I feel so bad for her

thekookiecrush said:I started reading Equilibrium today and I just finished it and omg, everything that is said or is happening, it's like a shot in my heart, sometimes I shivered because the whole situation is so fucked up but your story is so good, my heart is still racing from chapter 11. I can't wait for the story to be continued... thank you for that high-quality masterpiece

Anonymous said:ok like tbh im super done with every single anon that takes the time to actually defend jk's disgusting behavior. it might be difficult to look past his real-life persona as an idol, but come on. no man, no matter how beautiful or nice to other people, should be allowed to do this or even 1/5th of this to a woman. it's just not.......justifiable at all. like please get your heads straight and think for a few moments before sending practically misogynstic messages like this. im just....wow wtf

Anonymous said:Patiently waiting for Jin or yoongi to separate all of them. I can't trust jungkook for one sec it sound like there's more going on when he's not around the oc and jimin. I don't trust jimin obviously and the oc. Now it's gotten to the point where I'm just like please leave eachother the oc and jimin are hurting as of jungkook idk if he actually has real feelings for the oc but hmm. THEY ALL NEED TO GO.

awkward-kooks said:This is why we need to work harder against abuse. It's not a pretty thing to romanticize it since it is dangerous. As someone whose best friend is in an emotionally, mentally, and physically abusive relationship, it hurts seeing some of your readers thinking that Jungkook's personality (at least in the FANFICTION) is completely OK and valid since he's just "protecting" the reader or "getting jealous" of Jimin's character.

Anonymous said:Argh, reading the new chapter makes me feel kind of sick. I feel so bad for the OC and this whole situation is giving me anxiety. The way Jungkook is acting makes me want to scream at him hahaha :( I can't believe he doesn't see how wrong this is (being all possessive and guilt-tripping her and all) :((( but it was amazingly written so thank you!

Anonymous said:So I'll be honest enough to say that I just started reading Equilibrium. At first it feels so intense and you just start feeling on edge (in an angsty/giddy way). But after a while, the relationship dynamics begin to feel digusting! Don't get me wrong tho I 100% luv ur writing but the abuse is getting way out of hand and I wouldn't want that for myself my gawd i would've quit from day 1 hahaha cause im kinda possessive, and sharing with another person and endure abuse is a big fuck no!!

Anonymous said:Wow Equilibrium is getting scary. What scares me more is that you are writing an OC who is scared about what could possibly happen, she is being emotionally manipulated. And there are people who think that what JK is doing is sexy. I hope that your readers eventually understand what is and what isn't a healthy relationship. None of this is healthy. You want relationship goals look at Morticia and Gomez Adams. This is a fantastic piece of writing though. Thank you.

Anonymous said:Thank you for that amazing update holy shit. Jungcock is seriously scaring me so much and I feel so bad for the mc and Jimin. I feel as if Kookie purposely poisoned Jimins food. And honestly I'm so scared for the mc. Like the way Jungkook traps her and has this possessiveness, powering over the mc freaks me out so much. I feel as if the mc will not be able to take the possessiveness anymore and well run away? Thank you for the update. This chapter I feel is very important. Have a good day!

THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR NOT FALLING PREY TO OUR DISGUSTING MISOGYNISTIC SOCIETY THAT TELLS US A POSSESSIVE, CONTROLLING, CRAZY MAN IS SEXY!!! IT’S NOT. IT’S FUCKING SCARY AKLSJDFKLSJF IM SO GLAD THAT THERE ARE SANE PPL OUT THERE

#equilibrium #morsalinou #lu answers

[woollymitts]

All girls together

Following up from Serena and Ellie’s head girl statuses, I just can’t resist playing a literary game. Spot the outrageous lifting from real life of plot bunnies amongst the made up shit. Oh and Eleanor lives because it’s important.

Ellie dumps her handbag on the kitchen counter with a jangled thud. Serena raises an eyebrow as her daughter pulls out a bottle of prosecco from the fridge to which Ellie gives her a don’t judge me face.

First glass downed, she frowns at her mother and speaks.

“Guess who I had a boozy lunch with?”

Serena list a couple of her on/off ex boyfriends and Ellie just flicks her hair in irritation.

“Nope. I ran into someone at St Whinnyfers,” her voice slips up an octave into an equine neigh as she pronounces her and her mother’s alma mater.

“I wish you wouldn’t call it that”, admonishes Serena.

In the background, there’s a responding whinny and some stamping and pawing.

“Very funny, Bernie,” says Serena but more indulgently.

“Don’t mind me. I’m just petting the dog and finishing the crossword” Bernie peers over her rimless reading glasses from her usual corner seat in the window, catching the last of the afternoon sun. Serena smiles at her fondly.

“Oh for God’s sake you two.” Ellie then mutters under her breath, “It’s like I’m surrounded,”

“Ok Ellie darling, who did you see?” Serena reverts her full attention back to her daughter.

“So I was in town looking at this retrospective by Niki de St Phalle at the Arnolfini gallery for a piece I was planning to write, and who should I come across but Hermione Hatfield.”

Serena goes through a mental Rolodex of her daughter’s friends and acquaintances. Someone clicks, so she speculates, “Hermione, your deputy headgirl at school? I thought you hated her. Called her Hermione Hatstand for being rake thin and having no personality.”

“Oh, she had a personality alright”, snorted Ellie derisively, “as a total swot and completely sucking up to the teachers”.

“Well, it turns out that the nickname was totally spot on. Hatstand was a total closet case at school. I just knew there was something going on with her and Victoria Godwin. But she was so uptight there was no way she was going to tell me…”

“Ouch,” says her mother.

Ellie waves her hand at her wafting a dismissive apology, keen to finish her story,

“Remember when I played Isabella in Measure for Measure at Salisbury abbey. Well on the last night, Hatstand and Toria were there too sharing their picnic supper with none other than Trunchbull and some other woman.”

“I just thought at the time what a creepster, she even has the nerve to socialise with the teachers. Little did I know that she was just a baby dyke getting some sapphic mentoring from the Head of English.”

Serena looks a touch alarmed at that comment,

p>

“Are we wading into dangerous territory?”

“Heavens no, Mum. Trunchball and her were purely platonic. However. ” At this, she stops abruptly and stares at her empty glass.

Serena takes the hint, refilling the bubbly and fetching a glass of her own.

“Gawd. I can’t believe I’m telling you this. It’s so embarrassing, and well, never mind” and she lurches on pausing at the end of each sentence to gulp down more wine.

“Hatstand denied there was anything going as she was too hung up on Toria. Always making doe eyes at that one. ”

Serena was able to better remember the eighteen year old. Rather tall and any willow like fragility in her slight frame was cancelled by the rigid way she would stand. Alert, and while softly spoken, there was a certain aloofness in her manner.

“I recall a piercing blue eyed stare. Unnerving and a bit emotionless. ”

“Well it softened for Toria. Let me finish!”

“By now our main courses are really late. The starters were an hour ago and Hermione is properly hammered. As I’m interrogating her on the Trunchball thing, she admits her tastes had matured more towards MILFs nowadays, namely” and she looks at her mother pointedly praying she takes the hint.

As the colour rises around Serena’s décolletage, Bernie lets out her huge honking laugh and claps Serena on the shoulder.

“She has very fine taste.” Bernie grins in amusement and at her and her own good fortune.

“So you can imagine how she reacted when I told her about you two.” Ellie finishes her tale and her glass in tandem.

Then as a denouement, she scrabbles amongst the contents of her handbag. Out of it, she removes an over-stuffed purse and slides a light blue business card from its pocket.

Bernie snatches it up before Serena can reach out. Her eyebrows furrow in concentration and then something more sinister as she reads. “Oh. It is SO on.”

“That is mine, thank you very much”. Serena counters and when she reads the card and the handwritten message on the back, she finally speaks.

“Well I’m terrifically flattered but I don’t think I’ll take her up on the offer any time soon.”

Bernie harrumphs something, outwith of Serena’s hearing, about how tanks have RPGs and their potential uses. And then, speaking more clearly, “you know your mother might have a type. ”

Bernie gets side-swiped by Serena as they walk through to the sitting room and she sets about the task of lighting the fire in penance. As Bernie kneels over the kindling, Serena places her self on the sofa in an optimum position to ogle her girlfriend and reminisces,

“In my day at St Winifred’s, there used to be a boarding house and the rumour was that one of the boarders in sixth form was having a clandestine relationship with the female art teacher, who, in turn, was seeing the classics mistress.”

“Ooh. That does sound a bit torrid and scandalous for the Edwardian era Mummy”.

“Ha ha.” Serena responds sarcastically. “I only knew as my best friend shared a dorm with the said boarder who kept leaving her room at all hours of the night.”

“The best bit was that the boarder was the only girl doing Latin A level.”

“Wow that’s awkward. Sitting in tutorial with your lover’s girlfriend.” comments Ellie

“And trying to remember how to conjugate ‘amo, amas, amat.’ in all its tenses. Yikes” wonders Bernie.

“And translating all the repressed jealousy in the poems of Catullus to Lesbia,” concedes Serena, then she smirks before reciting,

“ da mi basia mille, deinde centum, dein mille altera, dein secunda centum, deinde usque altera mille, deinde centum. dein, cum milia multa fecerimus, conturbabimus illa, ne sciamus, aut ne quis malus inuidere possit, cum tantum sciat esse basiorum.”

*

“Can’t understand a word but it sounds pervy, Mum”.

“More romantic and sensual,” sighs her mother.

It wasn’t until the morning when Jason came down that Serena remembered the card. He was twisting it between his fingers while eating his cereal. (Monday, so shreddies). He speaks aloud, deep in thought.

“Aunty Serena,” he pronounces. “I don’t think this is possible. It would require months of training and authorisation.”

“What darling?” says Serena eyeing the card with some trepidation.

“Squadron Leader Hatfield asking you to co-pilot or as she puts it, ‘try Mach One with her’”

“Yes, well, Jason, I think she might have meant it figuratively.”

“How?”

“Um, yes, well… Is that the time? Can’t be late for work.” hedges Serena.

At this Jason protests, “But we’re only seven minutes into our fifteen minute breakfast time”. We do not need leave the house until 8:21 at the very latest.“

Ellie giggles into her cup of coffee. She had tucked herself into the snug bench and was in her pyjamas and dressing gown, laptop in front of her on the kitchen table. She rested her chin on her hand and looked at their pair,

“Jason?”

“Yes, Ellie?”

“Please don’t ever change.”

“Oh and Bernie” calls out Ellie.

Bernie stumbles into the kitchen dishevelled, trying to tuck in her blue blouse while still holding her belt and socks.

“Aren’t you a little afraid that someone so young could be of equivalent rank.” Ellie puts the question innocently enough.

“Different services, like comparing apples to oranges,” she retorts. “And, why are we still discussing that air jock? Because, she can frankly Alpha Mike Foxtrot.”

“Whatever you say Major?” As she turns back to the screen, smiling to herself.

*Catullus poem five. Let us live and love, Lesbia. Known by lots of posho girls school attendees in the 1970 and 80s and prior. Roughly translated

Give me a thousand kisses And then a hundred Then another thousand Then a following hundred Even yet a thousand more Then a hundred And when we have made many thousands Let us muddled them all up So that those who wish ill of us Are unable to know Just how many kisses there are.

#berena #fanfic #serena campbell #will answer guess the true bits for any speculators

[thedesperatehousehusband]

Academy Awards For Everyone!!!

It’s a wonderful night for Oscar. Oscar. Oscar. Who will win?? I can’t take credit for that line. It’s a Billy Crystal line from his 140,000 times of hosting the Oscars. Also known as the Academy Awards. It’s time, Lord.

We started the show with Justin Timberlake doing his thing. It was fine. He needs to learn to lip sync better. And what was Jessica Biel wearing? Was that thing around her neck jewelry or part of the dress? She actually looked like an Oscar statue.

Jimmy Kimmel. He’s not for the Oscars. He doesn’t care. But he’s funny as fuck. His monologue was great. I loved when he made fun of Matt Damon. The fake feud between Matt Damon and Jimmy Kimmel has been going on for like 11 years or some shit. That’s hilarious. And that recent movie that Matt Damon is in does actually like a steaming pile of horse dung. I thank Jimmy Kimmel for saying so.

Thanks GAWD Mahershala Ali won for Moonlight. That movie is remarkable and, let’s face it, the Oscars can’t deal with another racial controversy. #oscarssowhite no more. I’m joking a lot, a lot, a lot. Mahershala Ali 100% was my choice. His portrayal of “Juan” was wonderful , inspiring, raw, real and his presence was felt long after his character wasn’t on screen anymore.

Halle Berry’s hair is uncalled for. What is wrong with her?

You can’t go wrong with either Kate McKinnon or Jason Bateman. I gotta tell you. If I had a “list”, Jason Bateman would be on it. Good for Suicide Squad for winning an Oscar for Make Up. It’s all you’re gonna get. And Colleen Atwood seemed really surprised. Bless her heart. Bitch, you get nominated errrrrry year for your costumes. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them had some good ass costumes.

That girl from Moana did a fine job. She got through it. She worked it out.

God bless the French man from Arrival who won for Sound Editing. That movie was terrific. We really loved it. Hacksaw Ridge won for Sound Mixing. I’ve probably said this before but I can’t fucking remember year to year what I talk about in this posts. But I don’t have a clue what the difference is between Sound Mixing and Sound Editing. In one do the fart noises sound better? We can’t see Hacksaw Ridge. Mel Gibson is the demon spawn of Satan and we cannot support him. Regardless of whether or not the movie is amazing.

Mark Rylance, that hat is ridiculous. You’re better than that. What is wrong with him?

VIOLA DAVIS! Girl came dressed to win. That dress is insane. The shoes. THE SHOES. But let’s just talk about her role in Fences. She completely owned that role. You could feel every bit of the pain she felt and the ordinary struggle of being a black housewife in the 1950s. Love, love, love that she won.

The movie from Iran won best Foreign Film. The director couldn’t/wouldn’t come (I’m truly not sure which) due to the travel ban and the continued foolishness of the Orange One. Making a statement by not showing up. That’s a good statement. Plus then your Oscar got accepted by Shirley MacLaine. Because that doesn’t happen every day.

This song by Sting is a real sleeper. I suppose it’s an important message but the song is bland. Trudie Styler has been nipped and tucked to an extreme degree.

I don’t know what to think of Hailee Steinfeld’s dress. It sort of looks cool but it sort of looks like Saran Wrap. I think she’s too young to wear that dress. Zootopia just won for Best Animated Feature. Good for Disney. It was such a great movie. Funny, touching, poignant and includes voiceover work from Jason Bateman. That’s why it won.

OK. I literally cannot with Dakota Johnson’s dress. So because you’re in a movie about bondage and sexy shit you decide to wear a dress that looks like you’re one of the mole people on Kimmy Schmidt? Jesus Christ. That fabric. Is it from Dollar General? Who is this kookie couple from La La Land who is giving a boring ass speech about production design and set decoration? The conductor is right to play them off. Potentially the most lifeless speech ever.

So Jimmy Kimmel is good for a good prank or a gag. This business with the Hollywood tour bus that then showed up randomly at the Oscars was brilliant. I love good comedy bits. It’s good fun.

Halle Berry. You look ridiculous.

Michael J. Fox. Things don’t seem great. Ugh. I don’t like to see it. Heartbreaking beyond belief. I have a fair amount of continued surprise over the lack of wins for La La Land. With the Editing award just went to Hacksaw Ridge. Which at this point has one more awards than La La Land. I just do not care about this movie one iota. I’d sooner have explosive diarrhea than watch this movie.

Well, I guess Meryl Streep is not interested in making an impassioned speech tonight. That’s fine. The Prez doesn’t have anything better to do than to Tweet about actresses who are critical of him. What a narcissistic asshat. La La Land deserves to win for Cinematography.

Mean Tweets! Yes. This bit is so smart and hilarious on Jimmy Kimmel Live. Robert DeNiro….and soon I’ll be playing great-grandfather roles. Fuck you. Totes brillz.

Color me surprised. La La Land won for Score. Stop it. An original movie musical won an award for MUSIC at the Oscars?

What is on Scarlett Johansson’s head? Because it can’t be hair. That dress is too much. I don’t care for it. Woo hoo! La La Land gets the Original Song award too. It’s taken a few hours bur La La Land is finally picking up steam.

Jennifer Anniston wears that dress every time. But I don’t care. She knows what works for her and it looks outstanding. Love her to pieces. She’s America’s sweetheart. Sara Bareilles did a lovely job with the In Memoriam segment.

OMG. Jimmy Kimmel is relentless with Matt Damon. Talking about how We Bought a Zoo was his favorite movie then trying to play him off while he and Ben presented Original Screenplay. I have to tell you I’m stunned that Kenneth Lonergan won for Manchester By the Sea. It was such a hard movie. Hard to watch. Hard to enjoy. But remarkably well done.

Amy Adams looks like Jessica Rabbit. And that’s a good thing. Moonlight wins for Adapted Screenplay. I think there’s been some hullabaloo about this film being in this category but who cares? It was a great movie and a moving script. Great speeches. “For the the next four years, we got you.” Yes. Yes. Yes. This shit……it’s too much.

Oh, Lord. Her she is. Halle Berry and that hair. It seems to be growing and morphing through the course of the night. I think it might be alive. I’m elated that Damien Chazelle won. He’s a creative force. He should be honored for this film and will likely be honored for other films in the future.

Uh oh. Brie Larson has lost some weight. She’s fading way into the background. I really want Casey Affleck to win Best Actor. I just don’t know that he will. We shall see. In about 45 seconds. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!! I’m over the moon. Manchester By the Sea is a terribly difficult film to get through but Casey Affleck is the roots. The heart of the film. I know there’s other shit going down. I’m OK keeping that separate. Was it just me or did Denzel not look pleased? I think he thought he was gon win.

Leo looks like he bathed. Bless his heart. He often looks unclean. Yay!!!!!!!!! Emma Stone is a talent and completely adorable. I love her in anything.

And Best Picture is………….La La Land. Of course it is! I don’t care what anyone says about the ending. I simply loved this movie. CORRECTION! CORRECTION! Apparently if you go to bed in less than 45 seconds after the announcement of Best Picture, there might be a kerfuffle. HOLY COW! What a mess up. I can’t even believe it. Moonlight won. Evidently, Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway had the Best Actress envelope and that’s why Warren Beatty was confused. I’ll tell you I’m perfectly fine with Moonlight. It was the movie that most moved me and stayed with me. What a clusterfuck. 

And good night. It’s time for bed. It’s really fucking late.

[felassan]

Hey! Thanks for running such an awesome blog! I've got a few questions, if you don't mind me asking: what's your thoughts on the Andromeda companions so-far, when do you think we'll hear more about the other companions, and what sort of companion are you really hoping for? Thanks again! 😁

Hi Nonnie, thanks a lot for the kind words, I’m glad you like it! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

Okay, so: my reply is super late. One, really sorry about that (especially for the part where you were asking about potential timelines for new info). Two, my answer is obviously influenced by the stuff we’ve come to know about the game since you sent your message. But it’s a neat question, so I’m going to run with it anyway. Hope you don’t mind.

When do I think we’ll hear more about the other companions? this post I made the other day contains everything I know and guess on the subject of when we’ll hear more info on the game.

What sort of companion am I really hoping for? My companion wishlist for Andromeda mostly had two main things on it. One was a female turian (this wish is obviously a reality now, which I’m super pleased about!) The other was a male quarian. I’m still hoping for the latter, and every little thing makes me go “omg wat if mquarian” (the name “Jaal” for instance could totally be part of an  mquarian’s name, like, it fits the language), lol, but at this point I think chances are pretty slim. Would love to be proved wrong however. And if not, that’s okay, we don’t get everything we want - pretty sure Vetra is gonna knock me out of the park, and I fall in love with the companions in every game anyway, so it’s all good. More recently, this cute piece of art made me love the idea of a member of that species (angarans? maybe) as a squaddie. Miscellaneous companion hopes that I have: that there’s a diverse sexuality range and a fair option spread for everyone; that the character I want to romance most is indeed a companion as opposed to Tempest crewmember etc (who doesn’t like taking their LI everywhere?); and that there’s a cute nerd type somewhere (companion/crew). Kallo Jath is totally ticking that box for me at the moment!

What are my thoughts on the Andromeda companions so far?

Peebs looks and seems adorable, I can’t be assed with complaints that she’s ugly or that she’s just Liara or Sera 2.0. Yeah I see the common traits (young smart academic interested in mysterious alien tech, used in marketing a lot so far relative to other squaddies / quick-talking blunt bubbly adventurer unlike stereotypical members of her race, with little care for social niceties, respectively), but I feel that at this point in time I don’t know enough about her as a character for it to be fair of me to pigeonhole her as a Liara/Sera 2. I do wish her no-atmosphere armor was a proper enclosed suit not a facemask, but that complaint goes back to ME2. The thing I’m looking forwards to most about Peebee so far is her relationship with Vetra developing. When the devs talked about that in a tweet it sounded awesome.

Drack is probably the currently-known squadmate that I’m least enthused about, maybe tied with Cora for that? (But that’s not really their fault, they’re just pretty blankslate at the moment). I don’t know enough about him to have much of an opinion, and I like the krogan but I’m not overly fussed, you know as squadmates I could take or leave them, much as I love Wrex and Grunt. Hopefully they have differentiated him personality-wise from Wrex, use him to tell a different sort of story. Sure they will have. The Initiative leaves the Milky Way before Shepard can cure the krogan - curious therefore about Drack’s outlook on his race, their future and their place in a new galaxy. Could he have any tie to the krogan seen with Alec Ryder?

Cora is suuuper blankslate.. A biotic, maybe blond.. They should hurry up and show us her damn face, lmao. I mean at least we have seen Drack and know his VA, and have some info about Liam’s looks (race, cool hair) and personality/background.. Why do I have this feeling she knew our dad? ╮(￣～￣)╭

Vetra: The squaddie I am currently mooost excited about, by quite a margin. She looks super cool, she’s all tall n dreamy and shit, awww man the hype is real, omanomanoman I hope I can romance her as female Ryder, hoo boy, I’m swooning, much tall, yas gawd, my new space bae, where will I put posters of her I’ve fucking run out of space!!!, top excite, MARRY ME.

Liam: The squaddie I’m currently most excited about after Vetra. Maybe he’s afro-latinx, that would be nice. I can’t take this tension, I need to see his cool hair. Those goggles in his icon are adorable and make him look like a Digimon trainer. I feel like we are gonna be bros. I haven’t met him but I already trust him.

Andromedan squaddie: Suuuper intrigued by them even though at this point they’re toootes nebulous. Might be nice if they were a race other than the Kett, though I can understand the need for a “sympathetic Kett”. Maybe they’re “Jaal” [see below].

Jaal: If you forced me to put money on outcomes.. My first guess is that Jaal is basketballhoophead. If Jaal is instead a squaddie, my guess is they’re a member of an Andromedan race. Side note - If they’re an mquarian, I’ll rocket into the sun.

Kallo: not a squaddie but honorary mention cuz omg what a cute nerd. my new bff

#bioware #mass effect #mass effect: andromeda #mj replies #mj and the world #anonymous #video games #lul #vetra nyx #spikywife

[alexandercollas]

Into the Wild - Chapter 25

Devon found consciousness and quickly considered losing it again. His head and body felt like he’d gone three rounds in a cage match. Moaning, he realized he had no idea where he was. Then memory, the wicked bitch, slapped him hard, and he shot into a sitting position and quickly vomited. “Good morning, sunshine,” said Mat. Devon looked over to find his friend with his head in his hands and his back against the wall. “What happened?” “I think I should’ve killed the mages.” “Oh well, live and learn. At this point, I’m inclined to say there’s still time.” “Oh, absolutely. Once my head clears, and I find a way out of this cell, I plan on talking with that druid fucker.” “So, we’re in a cell?” “Yup, you’ve been out for at least half a day.” “How would you know that?” asked Devon. “We’re still outside in what appears to be a standalone cell. From what I could see, there are several of them. As for the time, that tiny window in the back had the sun when I awoke, and now it’s through the bars of the door, so I’m guessing about half a day.” “So how long were you out?” “I don’t know I slept through it.” “Mind if I make an observation?” asked Devon. “Is this a situational observation or a Devon one?” “More the latter.” ‘Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t, how might I help you today?” “Maybe we should be a little more friendly when meeting new people. Just a thought.” “Funny, I had roughly the same observation only with a few changes,” commented Mat. “Those being?” “We kidnap the leader and take him somewhere to chat and kill anyone who gets in the way.” “That sounds very Matsugoish of you, good to see you’re feeling better than I am.” “Oh, I’m not. I’m keeping my head stationary; otherwise, I start acting like a vegan at a chili cookoff.” “Gawd don’t say chili,” begged Devon as he fell over and dry heaved. “Those were not very friendly spells.” “You think? Luckily, I remember who was back there, and I’ve every intention of thanking them for this alcoholic free hangover,” growled Mat along with Devon’s stomach. “Have they brought food?” Devon asked his friend. “Not yet,” Mat answered as he pushed himself to his feet and wobbled towards the door. Devon had seen Mat hungover more times than he could count and smirked as he watched him trace the parameter of the cell, keeping a hand on the wall to steady himself. When he reached the barred door, he yelled, “HEY.” Recoiling like he’d been shot, Mat groaned and gripped his aching head. In a softer voice, he tried again, “Hey, we get any food or water?” Devon watched and waited. At first, there was nothing, and then Devon noticed shadows growing closer. “You two are awake,” said Lok. “Maybe next time you’ll remember your place when you present yourself to your betters.” Devon just shook his head; he knew what was about to happen when he saw Mat’s back straighten. “No, next time, the daggers will not land at your feet. I was trying to be diplomatic, never again cow boy,” growled Mat with a venom that even surprised his friend. Looking past Mat, Lok addressed Devon, “You might want to muzzle your demon here, he is on the verge of making your situation worse.” “What’s the situation exactly? Asked Devon, not bothering to stand up. “You will be tried and found guilty,” answered Lok. “Tried and found guilty? Then why the trial, it sounds like we already have a verdict,” added Devon. “There was a room full of witnesses, so yes, you were, but we have customs to adhere to.” “Why do I get the feeling these are more your customs than your peoples. You are a control cow, aren’t you?” snarked Mat as he felt around on his body. “Your daggers…all of them…have been placed in safekeeping.” “I know you have them all because if I had any, they’d be sticking out of you right now. All things in time,” growled Mat. “Do we get food before you do you little mock trial thing?” asked Devon, taking a deep breath. “They’re preparing it now,” answered Lok. “It better be steak. I want a big, rare, juicy piece of whatever fucking race you,” added Mat. Devon let Mat blow off steam. As he watched, he noticed his friend's head turn slightly. Mat wasn’t focused on the leader any longer. “Fine…Fine…I’m pissed, and my head hurts like hell. How about some food, and let’s see if we can start this over on a better note,” said Mat in a very conciliatory tone? Lok and the two guards, Devon hadn’t seen till now, walked off without another word. When Mat turned back, he had the briefest hint of a smirk. “What?” asked Devon with a cautious glare. “Nothing,” answered his friend as he resumed his spot on the ground. Devon closed his eyes and rubbed his brow, trying to get the pain to subside. With care, he reached inside for his magic and found it. He’d read too much fantasy; he’d assumed they would’ve dampened it. Was that even possible? Raising a little more until he was sure he had enough, he thought the activation words and instantly felt a wave of relief wash over his body. He moaned as his muscles loosened, and his head stopped hurting. Again, he drew in more energy. When he was ready to cast, he reached out and pushed it towards his friend. Instantly he let out a cry of pain. Mat shot away from the wall and into a crouch. “What? What’s happening?” “Nothing, I tried to heal you. It worked fine on me, but when I tried it on you, I got a zapped.” “Who’s there?” they heard from somewhere. “Us?” answered Mat. “Wait,” the voice said. “Good, there are no guards around. I’m Talver, who are you?” “I’m not…” started Mat. “I’m Devon, and my friend here is Mat,” interrupted Devon, talking over his friend. “Is it safe to guess you pissed the druids off as well?” “It would seem. They leave all this cool stuff just sitting around and then get pissed when someone sees something they like.” “You’re a rouge.” Mat laughed but didn’t get an answer. “I am as well; you’re imprisoned with friends. How long have you been visiting?” “You’re a brother of the darkness, huh? They’ve had me locked in here for about a week, by my estimations.” “Do they feed you?” asked Devon in a loud voice. “Who is he?” asked Talvar, “is he safe?” “We’re together. Devon’s a druid?” “A druid, you were here to check-in?” “Yes.” “Didn’t go well, did it?” “Clearly.” “Brother, have you visited the Oslcar yet?” asked the rouge. “Is that a place or a person?” asked Mat. “Person, head of the Rouge’s guild, and you answered my question.” “No, I haven’t, we just arrived a day ago and learned of this fucking stupid custom thereafter. We choose the druids first since they seemed like they’d be easier,” explained Mat. “We were wrong,” added Devon. “The Druids here have always thought mightily of themselves. They oppose the expansion of the city. They constantly harass the farmers for bad farming practices and keeping and slaughtering livestock for food.” “Oh Gawd, vegans?” groaned Mat. “I hate vegans.” Finally, attempting to stand, Devon walked to the bars to see if he could look out. They appeared to be in a secluded area. He could tell they were in the compound since he recognized a few of the buildings he’d seen when they’d entered. “Do you have a plan for escaping?” he yelled over to the other cell. “If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” “When will they hold the trial?” asked Mat. “From what little I’ve been able to glean, all trials and disciplinary matters are dealt with on the full moon, which is four days away.” “That means I have four days to figure out how to slaughter a village,” growled Mat as he went back and sat down. “He’s a grumpy one,” said Talvar. “He isn’t too grumpy yet, but then he’s just woke up. Do they feed us?” “It should be anytime; the sun is going down.” That’s right; it’ll be night soon, Mat thought as a plan hatched in his devious little mind. His first real test. Just as the last rays vanished behind the horizon, several residents appeared from around the nearest building carrying heaping plates of food, two came towards Devon and Mat, and one went to the cell beside them. Mat watched, so they were the only three prisoners. They watched in silence as the gnomish creature raised a small section of the gate and pushed the plates through one at a time, followed by two drinking skins. “Is there a bathroom?” asked Devon, trying to get one to talk. Neither spoke, but the one inclined her head towards a small area in the back of the cell. Devon saw the opening as the creature waved a hand and an orb in the top of the cell started to glow dimly. It wasn’t much light, just enough to see the inside of their prison. Once the two were gone, Devon picked up both plates and skins and brought them over and sat down beside Mat. “You’re taking this well.” “I want to see how it plays out. I already have the tendrils of a couple of plans, but one is sort of the nuclear option. We’ve both agreed maybe discretion is the better part of valor moving forward, but don’t worry, I’ll have a fallback or two.” Devon gave Mat a surprised look, “I’m proud of you. Do you want to tell me what these plans are?” “Not yet, and as for me taking this well, don’t get me wrong in every contingency that leader is dead.” “I know. I don’t like it, but I know. I’m hoping they will do something to change your mind because I know I can’t,” pausing Devon added, “nor am I sure I’ll want too. We’ll see. Read the full article

[jillmckenzie1]

How I Got Out of My Toxic Relationship

It’s 2:01am. And, I want to go to sleep. Truly, I do. But, my mind is mulling over the current state of affairs in the Supreme Court nominations. I spent the better part of this afternoon really listening to the testimonies of both Christine Blasey Ford and Brett Kavanaugh.

But, let me be clear, this post has nothing to do with politics.

No, this story is about a 34-year-old female who is finding herself inside a conversation that is questioning whether or not women are truthful when it comes to explicating their experiences. And, be it good or bad, I am now finding a way to attach conscious thoughts to emotions that I felt two, five, ten years ago. Because, what is resonating with me so clearly right now is the word “embarrassed.” Women have chosen silence for fear of not being taken seriously, for fear of being wrong, for fear of saying something that the world may perceive as being different than what is actually true.

So, at 2:01am (make it 2:04am), I’m being smacked in the face by two distinct realizations.

One. We, as humans, love to create stories around how, we think, other people are receiving our humanness. These metaperceptions are generally tainted by our own view of ourselves and our inept ability to reason that no two people in this world think exactly the same way; therefore, our claim that “most people” will feel a certain way about our actions is not founded in any truth. And, worst of all, it silences us from sharing the most authentic version of ourselves and chasing our happiest state of existence because we decide the outcome of a choice before giving ourselves an

opportunity to actually experience it.

Two. There is a deep running understanding in our society that men’s overall treatment of women is poor, but silently accepted. My evidence for this statement is visible in the language that most, if not all, of my male friends use when they speak of having children: “If I ever have a daughter, I’m never letting her leave the house” or “I hope I have a son so that I only have to worry about one male; if I have a daughter, then I have to worry about all males.” Yes, there is a reason for the adage of “daddy’s girl,” but I want to suggest that there is something much deeper happening here, and that depth exists because I spent 99.9% of my current life being completely unphased by such irrational statements. I smiled and I nodded because I, too, would deductively reason the same ideology. Because, gawd, yes, being a woman is really fucking hard sometimes. But, for adults to be able to verbalize that they don’t want to raise girls because they don’t want to carry those girls’ burdens, which are completely centered on how males treat them, is worthy of our analysis and attention. Most importantly, it is worthy of us doing something to change that stigma.

Side note. I have never been a man, so yes, the above comments are jaded by my own bias. And, this is not all to say that women don’t do shitty things. Because, wow, we do some crappy stuff, people. What I’m attempting to do is articulate my experience. I am trying to give a voice to my testimony. Because, for a long time, I willingly bit my tongue. Out of insecurity. Out of fear. I was in constant pursuit of affirmation that what I was experiencing was real. That I was really hurting. That my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. And, if it were true that I was really hurting, then I wanted affirmation that I had a viable reason to hurt. That I wasn’t being soft. Or irrational. Or stupid.

So, I want to unpack a relationship from my life that, for many years, brought me a lot of shame. I want to stand here without reservation to exist only inside of this story long enough to tell it and then also to acknowledge that I was able to walk away from it a far better person for having been there.

Observation Point (Zion National Park)

Let’s begin. If one could earn points in dating, I’m quite convinced I would be in the negatives. I just do not have the genetic makeup or the desire to play the games that, it seems, are characteristic to successful courtship. I operate in two speeds in every facet of my life, and the same is true for people. If I like you, I will love you. If I love you, I will ride or die with you. This ladder is not exclusive to romantic relationships, and I must clarify that I am inclined to have three deep relationships in my life than to have 30 acquaintances. If given a choice, I’ll take depth over breadth. On the flipside, if I don’t like you, I will waste no time with you. Literally. Zero time. So, I repeat, I suck at dating. I fall hard. Or, I peace out quickly. And, a year ago, I would have felt a need to apologize for that. But, I have learned that an apology is altogether unnecessary. I am allowed to be this way because this way is not wrong. The other way is not right. I must simply be conscious of this quality and recognize where I am open to get hurt myself and to hurt other people.

I wish I had gleaned this awareness much earlier on in life, but I suppose this is the joy of aging. If you follow me on Instagram, then you know that I talk a lot about having been in a toxic marriage. I also talk a lot about being out of a toxic marriage. While the vulnerability piece does not intimidate me, I often find it hard to shed light on the actions. For a long time, I struggled to use words like “domestic violence” because I had convinced myself that I needed two black eyes in order to bear this cross.

I am here to tell you that you do not, in fact, have to suffer from any type of physical abuse to be a victim in your relationship. In fact, I recall many nights where I begged for a swift right hook to the face if only to make the verbal abuse end.

And, at this point, we should probably go back to the beginning. When he and I played on the same co-ed indoor soccer team, and we’d all go drink beers after our games, and he’d always offer to be my chauffer. I wasn’t in a place in my life to have a serious relationship. Without turning this into a 5000-word diatribe, I will admit that I had recently been divorced. Yes, I got married when I was freshly 21-years-old to a guy in the military who convinced me that it would be a financially smart decision (don’t do this, ladies). Our hot mess college relationship translated into a hot mess marriage, and we were divorced within the year. In all sincerity, it feels like so many lives ago that I barely even recognize it as being a part of my story, but I also know that we were incredibly immature and lacked nearly every possible tool to “make it” (as they say).

For clarification, this guy will not be referenced further, and any mention of my ex-husband will be directly related to soccer guy from the beginning of the previous paragraph.

Said soccer player was also not in a position for a relationship. He was living in Colorado for work with every intention of one day moving back to Ohio to be near his family. So, I moved to Portland for a job, and six months later he moved back to Louisville for work. I didn’t think we’d speak again (for the record, these are always the famous last words).

We didn’t speak. For about six months. But, he slowly crept back into my inbox (I’m going to age myself and point out that “sliding into the DMs” was not yet a thing). At the end of the school year (hashtag, teacher life) I moved to Kentucky. He immediately prefaced my move with the statement, “I can’t call you my girlfriend.” Perfect. Great. We’ve just been talking every day for the last six months. That makes sense. His inability to commit all along should have been the only red flag that I ever needed, but my damn diehard personality (coupled with my 20-something naiveté) would not let it go.

So, this dance continued for over two years in the Bluegrass State. I became super close with his family, and we honored the fact that they were very religious and did not believe that living together was socially acceptable. We hung out every night, but there were times when I wouldn’t stay with him, and while I believed at that point that he partied a little too hard for his own good, I wrote it off to the fact that he grew up in a strict household and never drank until he was 21-years-old.

It’s a phase, I said. It will pass, I said.

When we got married, I was really exposed to another side of him that I had only glimpsed in our dating life. And, before I even fast forward to this whole marriage status, I want to point out that I clearly felt in my heart that I was making the wrong choice the day that I walked down the aisle. Yes. Nothing sat well with me in the months leading up to this spectacle. But, I had already said yes, and the invitations were sent, and people had RSVP’d, and then, fuck, they were all sitting right there waiting for some grandiose entrance from yours truly. I didn’t want to let anyone down.

Hear that. At the cost of my own life, I created a story of what people would think about me if I backed out on such a commitment, so I followed through because I assumed that the story that they created would paint me in a negative light.

As imagined, it was never what I wanted or needed it to be. We immediately started going to counseling. Our therapist fired him because she said he had a drinking problem that she was not expertly trained to handle. He chastised me for continuing to go see someone who was dumber than him. I went to Al-Anon. I worked the twelve steps. I found a mentor. I begged him to get help.

And, again, I struggled with defining a word that carried so much weight: alcoholism. He was successful. He was well-liked. He didn’t wake up slinging booze from the side of his bedstand.

No. It was a silent fall. It was the seventh shot of Fireball at 1:37am, already eight beers deep, where his eyes would glaze over, and I would quietly hug myself on the walk home in fear of saying just one wrong thing. Because, I had learned that to fight this beast in its natural element was nothing short of a recipe for pure terror. I stopped feeling. I stopped going out altogether. I stopped drinking. Because, how can you beg someone to stop doing something that you are, in fact, doing yourself? Most importantly, I needed control of my every breathe. There was not a single moment that I could lapse on my judgment.

Because, when I lapsed, when I lost my patience or wisdom or sanity, I would unfurl every ounce of pain that was hiding under my skin. I would scream and cry out for every city street that I had ever walked home alone: Nashville, Louisville, San Diego, Cabo San Lucas, Chicago, Nasau, Denver. I can’t recall a single city we visited together that doesn’t also have a story about my 3:00am lost and lonely trek back to a hotel that I managed to find through only a decent sense of direction. And, the screaming and the crying that would seep from my pores would be met with the hatred as deep as the Devil.

Like that one night in December. After the Justin Timberlake concert. When he, at first, wouldn’t let me up the stairs to go to bed. I was actually so scared that I ran into the guest room on the first floor and hid under the flimsy covers of the bed, hugging the dog for dear life as if she could transport me anywhere but there. Unfortunately, despite childhood dreams, covers do not make one invisible. So, he came in screaming, violently pointing his finger over top of me in between my beady eyes. And, I knew I couldn’t cry. Because, I needed every ounce of my own strength to prevent a complete downward spiral into my own oblivion. And, I ran up the stairs, hoping to lock myself in our room (a tactic that I knew would fail) as he forced me into the laundry room. He stared at me with his hollow soul and silently begged for me to cower in the corner. I did not. I pleaded for him to hit me, to give physical pain to the words that were cutting into any ounce of dignity that still existed inside of me. Instead, he slid his hands around my throat. He locked my neck inside of his fingers and pressed me firmly against the wall. He reminded me of all the money that he had made, money that didn’t belong to me, while I pathetically lived in the house that only he could afford. Yes, he reminded me. And, I flung my fists with every attempt to kill until he finally let me go. The next morning, he’d apologize. Like he always did. And, I’d remember that I’m poor. And, I’d be embarrassed that I was weak. And, I’d teach myself not to feel. I’d teach myself to be invisible.

I finally stopped going out altogether. I became a recluse. I lived out the daily façade of having my life put together in my perfect neighborhood. Meanwhile, I was dead. And, for six months (that I know of), he was having an affair with a woman who worked under him. Ironically, I learned about this relationship after leaving him, which oddly brings me a small sense of joy.

I left him because of me, not him.

I looked back on my life in a single moment with him and realized that we had done nothing to grow for 365 days. We weren’t becoming better together, which translated into us not becoming better individuals. I couldn’t sit with that. I finally stopped listening to the voice that told me everyone would judge me so critically for being divorced. I knew that my fear of turning 50 and waking up to someone who caused me so much internal pain, coupled with the fact that I refused to procreate with such an individual and yet I wanted kids, meant making the harder choice between two hard choices.

In all sincerity, I often ask myself, how the hell did I get out of that mess? I’ve come to see this moment of my life a lot like a car accident. It is paradoxically fast and slow. And, I am overwhelmed by people who seek me out for guidance in this stage of life, married or not. I’ve come to believe that getting out of a toxic relationship is as gradual of a process as getting into one. And, I’m awake at what is now 2:58am, because my story matters. Christine Blasey Ford’s story matters. Your story matters. Because, it’s not okay. It was never okay.

I’ve spent over two years reintroducing myself to myself. Yes, reintroducing myself to myself. Because I wanted to be alive. I tried new things, things that I had expressed interest in but didn’t ring true when I was in the relationship, things that I ignored because he made me think that I wasn’t “that kind of person.”

I leaned on my friends and family. I learned to not make up people’s stories for them. Often times, when we are in toxic relationships, the closest people to us are fully aware of our circumstance. And, we will frequently verbalize that we need to leave or that we’re going to leave. But, we do not. Because, staying is easy. Even when it’s hard. Leaving is fucking hard. Even when it seems easy. So, if you’ve tried to leave this person before and you’ve gone back, the trust with your support system may be weak. I have learned to never underestimate your vulnerability. If you show people you want help (even if it is again), you might be surprised.

As expected, I took trips alone. Even when it was scary. Because I really knew that the only way I would be ready for another relationship would be if I were comfortable with myself first. And I had allowed that relationship to make me a version of myself that I never wanted to become again: insecure, fragile, angry.

Humphreys Peak (Flagstaff, Arizona)

Finally, I had to completely remove him from my life to move forward. Alcoholism is deadly. The person has to want to help him or herself. If not, there is no hope for better. It took me going through hell to really resonate with the fact that I was not responsible for him. If you are here, please hear me, I promise there is a great life waiting for you on the other side.

People sometimes ask me how I do it again. How I put myself out there. I want to get defensive about this statement

because I am extremely hypercritical of myself for being a divorcee, but I am open to the idea that they are actually softening their hearts to the fact that they think I am brave for trying again. Usually, they have also been hurt, and they have not been able to open their hearts in such a way that I feel is right for me in order to have the life that I want to have. I don’t think I’m brave. I think I just opened my eyes. I think I just committed to a life of never settling. And, I will always stay opportunistic to the idea that my match exists somewhere inside this crazy planet called Earth. If that means exposing myself to heartbreak, I’ll take feeling everything over and over again than a life of feeling nothing at all.

from Blog https://ondenver.com/how-i-got-out-of-my-toxic-relationship/

[theastonishingkylejackson]

“I had booked our seats in advance and upon seeing the Mad Max situation that was our train, I was pretty grateful for my forward thinking.” – Written By Katie Pitts, Contributing Writer For The Astonishing Tales Digital Magazine 

To read more of Katie Pitts’ work, go to her website by clicking HERE.

Originally Published HERE  at the Fatty McCupcakes Blog.

  Trains

The Astonishing Katie Pitts, contributor for The Astonishing Tales and Founder of Fatty McCupcakes Blog

On the same trip I’ve referenced a million times (because it was the only overseas trip I’ve ever gone on), we took the train only a handful of times.

For the majority of our trip, we had a car, but we weren’t crazy enough to drive in London, so we took the train to and from Oxford when we didn’t have our car.

The train trip to Oxford from London was so pleasant.

Idyllic even.

The train was barely at half capacity, and we were seated across from a friendly couple from Denmark. We had a great time chatting and it made the trip really quick and painless.

The train from Oxford to London was a whole other story.

The train station in Oxford was balls to the walls insanity. It was packed. There wasn’t one seat to sit in and if I’m remembering correctly, you had to pay to use the restrooms.

It was not my favorite.

When we finally got onto the train, we saw that, just like the station, it was packed.

I had booked our seats in advance and upon seeing the Mad Max situation that was our train, I was pretty grateful for my forward thinking.

However, when we had finally clawed our way to our seats, dragging our bags with us as there was no more room in the baggage compartment, we saw that an older couple was in our seats.

They were adorable. I mean, gray hair perfectly coiffed, matching linty sweaters, and they totally had Kleenex up their sleeves for later. They were the epitome of what every loving grandparent has ever looked like since the beginning of time. Well, ever since easy wear sweaters came into fashion.

We were in a real conundrum. We had two choices: Kindly ask the couple to move or schlepp ourselves and our bags all over the train looking for two empty seats that didn’t exist.

Even worse, there were people behind us trying to get by and there was nowhere to sidle over to as we discussed our game plan. It was act or be eaten by the angry, over-it people lining up behind us.

“OMG. What do we do?” I asked with a deer-in-headlights look on my face.

“I don’t know! What do we do?” Answered Friend, looking pretty freaked himself.

“I don’t know. What should we do?” I repeated with more desperation in my voice.

From somewhere nearby came a voice that said, “If there are people in your seats, bloody well tell them to get out of them!”

We both looked at each other like, “OH GAWD.”

Does this face look like the face of a psycho on a train?

“OK. Go tell them. It’s your turn to do something embarrassing, ” I asserted (It was me who had to ask the cop in Blackpool for directions).

“No way. You’re closer and I don’t want to be an asshole. Look at them. They are Mr. and, the less well known, Mrs. Rogers!” He exclaimed.

“But, I was the one who had to go out of my way to reserve seats so that we would be sure to have seats. It’s your turn.” I proclaimed.

Another phantom voice rang out, “OMG. Sit or MOVE!”

“I’ll just go sit on my luggage by the door,” decided Friend.

Out of nowhere, a voice again, “You can’t do that. You’ll get caught and told to find a seat.”

The people behind us were, at this point, ready to murder us.

It looked like we really had no other viable option as we were blocking the aisle and the man to my left had had enough of having the side of his face smashed into the ten-days-not-washed ass of my jeans.

Just like always I had to be the adult in the situation.

Life on a train…. it’s all smiles, right?

I sheepishly cleared my throat and tapped the woman, who looked just like my grandmother, on her shoulder, prepared to be forever cursed by karma.

They ended up being really sweet, which only made things TEN MILLION TIMES WORSE.

I still, to this day, think of them and hope they found a seat or someone who wasn’t as big of a cunt as my friend and I offered their seats to them.

DON’T HATE ME. I WAS A TRAIN VIRGIN UNDER PRESSURE.

While I was majorly feeling the effects of being a terrible person, my friend seemed pretty lost in his thoughts, too.

Once we were situated, the only place left to put our bags was right next to the exit as this was as close to the baggage compartment as physically possible.

Instead of worrying about what an asshole he was for making me kick grandma and grandpa out of their seats, he was more concerned for our luggage.

“Look at our luggage. The next time the door opens, they’ll all go tumbling out. Just watch.” He ruminated.

Katie’s train face…. not training face, train face…

“Mmmhmm,” I was too wrapped up in silently chastising myself.

“OK. I’m going to go stand by our luggage. I can’t take the stress anymore,” Friend said, throughly wrought with worry.

I didn’t even care about my luggage, because kicks-old-people-out-of-train-seats people don’t deserve luggage.

“I’m gonna do it,” he said again.

“You’ll get in trouble by the train police, but have at it, dude,” I said totally not caring.

For the first time in my life EVER, I was not the one who was worrying and obsessing.

It felt amazing.

I didn’t give two shits if my luggage full of dirty underwear got kicked out of the train or stolen by someone who would be very, very disappointed by my Target-special clothing.

My friend piled up our luggage, biggest to smallest and leaned on them the whole way to London. If someone walked by, he’d hug his body closer to the tower of American Tourister like he was guarding the secret to the afterlife in between his barf-stained jeans (hang tight for that post) and his questionably clean socks.

When we were nearing Paddington Station, he sidled up to me as I was peacefully resting my eyes (I’d finally accepted my dishonorable deed as a necessary evil of train travel, because the mean train people made me), and whispered in my ear, “I have an idea.”

I almost jumped clean out of my stretched-from-too-many-Magnum-bars-and-cheese-and-tomato-sandwiches skin.

“WTF is wrong with you? Only creeps whisper in people’s ears while they’re resting on trains minding their own business,” I hissed.

My comment didn’t faze him.

“I know how we can both get ourselves and our luggage off the train in one piece.”

“Kinda like how we got on?” I didn’t understand why he thought this needed a game plan. We’d trip over our luggage and our feet like we had getting on like total tourists. Duh.

“No. It’s genius. First, I’ll take my big bag-that’s the size of your small bag, by the way, and your big bag-the one I vehemently swore I’d never help you carry, because you just keep cramming new stuff into it and it already weighs more than a standard-sized car.

Then, you’ll grab my small bag and your small-not really small, though, bag and we will all get off this god-forsaken train together,” he said resolutely, but with a noticeably twitching eye.

The rest of the ten or so minutes of the train ride, he kept pantomiming, with overly expressive eyes and wild arm movements, how this “genius” plan of his was going to look. He legit looked like that crazy person every train has.

Someone even asked, “Who the fuck is that idiot gesturing to? Do you think he’s dangerous? Should we be worried?”

I just sat back and reveled in not being the worried, crazy one for once.

We did get ourselves and our luggage off the train, but I almost didn’t “mind the gap” and our attempt to not look too much like tourists, was wrecked by yours truly.

I’m The Astonishing Katie Pitts, Contributing Columnist for The Astonishing Tales Digital Magazine and of The Fatty McCupcakes Blog And I Am Astonishing, And I Approve This Message!

You will find more of Katie’s work here at The Astonishing Tales Digital Magazine.

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Planes, Trains and Automobiles: More Idiot Travel — Part 2 "I had booked our seats in advance and upon seeing the Mad Max situation that was our train, I was pretty grateful for my forward thinking." – 

[youngerdaniel]

2017: A Year at the Movies

It’s that time again, folks. A year has gone by, and I spent a lot of it on my ass in dark rooms watching moving pictures. But this year is special! For the first time, my annual list of films worth seeing comes with FILM SCHOOL CRED. 

What does that mean? Well, I guess I could delve into a deeper analysis of the chosen flicks... But let’s be real, you’re not here for that. So let’s just give the cred its cred and get into it.

2017: The raging dumpster fire of a year seems to be built on a foundation of terrifying surprise and disappointment. Everybody’s saying it, because it’s very much the truth—the world has gone batshit.

But it’s also been a remarkably good year for movies. When I try to list my absolute favorites, it gets difficult to rank them. Some gems in the indie circuit; some solid blockbuster fare. So rather than rank ‘em, I say fuck the numbers. Here’s what you should watch. Top 10:

Call Me By Your Name

Jesus, Gawd. The last 20 minutes of this movie alone are worth the rest of it. A beautiful tale of friendship, love, identity... and how all of these things can be tremendously confusing. I wasn’t fully hooked until around halfway through, but good leftovers gravy am I glad I stuck it out.

The Big Sick

It warms my heart that this lovely gem of a film is based on a true story. This movie is... Well, it’s fucking great. Amazing comedy, perfectly timed and nuanced drama. For we of the cynical Gen Y/Millennial crowd, this is the rom-com we needed, because grand gestures don’t work, there is no rushing to the airport, and there’s some surprisingly deep work at play when it comes to a timeless conflict in matters of the heart: family values vs who you love. The cast is on fire. The script is gold. If you missed this movie, you’re using your smartphone wrong.

The Bad Batch

If you tell me Ana Lily Amirpour made a film, I already love it. I’d been wooed ever since A GIRL WALKS HOME ALONE AT NIGHT, and when the grapevine started juicing on Amirpour’s newest joint, a dystopian survival tale, I was sold. When I finally got to sit down and watch it, I was blown away by how much of a visual storyteller Amirpour is. The visual pallette alone is drool-inducing. But the amount of worldbuilding and character development done free of expository bouts of dialogue is just tremendous. Now, that being said, the story involves cannibals, a lot of dismemberment, and perhaps just a bit too much shirtless Jason Momoa... But if that’s your thing, this one’s for you.

Lady Bird

Look, everybody’s already ranted to you about how great this movie is. You should really see it. No? Okay. Fine. It’s a fantastic, fantastic coming of age tale. Herein you’ll find a dysfunctional family, some well-drawn mother-daughter tensions, and a beautiful exploration of the thing that happens to most well-adjusted adults—the moment where you realize you’re grateful to your parents for everything they’ve done, despite the fact you’ve been a shit about it for the past 6-10 years. If that doesn’t strike a chord with you, maybe watch this movie and get a therapist?

Wind River

And speaking of getting a therapist, you might need one after this. Wind River is not by any stretch an easy film to watch (CW: rape scene late in the second act), but it is a gritty mystery that does what any crime story should well: it highlights a particularly ignored dark spot in North American society: the unaccounted-for loss of countless First Nations women on reservations. The politics are tied to the heart of this story, but rarely does it come off as preachy or a gimmick. At its heart, this mystery is a character study. In fact, nearly all of the moments that really sing are the quiet moments between the bigger set pieces. That being said, there’s a standoff sequence that happens late in the movie that is FUCKING INTENSE. You need a strong stomach for this one, but I was really impressed with it; the simplicity and effectiveness of the writing, the stark visuals, the top-notch performances. It’s great.

Logan

Logan made my cry. Actually, I’m pretty sure all of these movies coaxed a tear. But here’s the thing. I don’t actually give a shit about Wolverine. He’s not my favorite X-person. He’s definitely not my favorite anti-hero... But this movie was fucking exceptional. Not only does it take Logan’s character to an honorable and earned conclusion, it shows us that superhero movies don’t have to be for kids; they don’t have to follow the same old formula of “good guys learn something and win”... Of course, conventions are played with in this movie, but almost always to toy with your expectation as a viewer. You never know for certain if Logan’s going to make it out of this one on top... And when it ends, you won’t feel the same “Enh” that usually comes with the credits of a big I.P. movie.

Baby Driver

If you go into Baby Driver planning to take apart the story or to really delve into the character study of a young getaway driver... You’re missing the point of this movie. Instead, go in expecting a musical that happens to revolve around crime, and a young getaway driver’s learning that crime is only fun to a point. It’s a great thematic deconstruction of heist and getaway movies, showing us why we enjoy these things before peeling away the layers of heightened idealism until we just see the truth: crime is where people die and innocence is lost. (CW: Kevin Spacey, one of the newly minted shitstains of Hollywood garbage men... But he’s a nominal force.) It also has a killer soundtrack, some of the best driving sequences to grace the screen for a while, and it’s all tied together with that expertly stylized fantasy vision that belongs to Edgar Wright alone.

Ingrid Goes West

The thing I love most about this fiendishly unrepentant social media satire is that it will legit piss off people who buy into the whole “Insta-lyfe”. It picks apart how easily one can manufacture a personality or brand online that in no way represents who they actually are. It also, with zero subtlety, highlights just how fucking batshit our world can get when we start valuing our online avatars more than the people behind them. Of course, it wouldn’t be a proper satire if the facade didn’t shatter, and where that takes the story of this troubled young woman as she tries to manufacture the life she’s been double-tapping in her feed? Well... I thought it was bloody brilliant.

Band Aid

A small screen gem that totally destroyed me on the first viewing. Strap in with tissues and follow this quirky dramedy which follows a couple reeling from the fallout of a miscarriage. They’re not coping well, and in order to save their marriage, they decide to start turning their fights into songs. Sounds cute, right? But that’s the thing about cute band-aids: they don’t heal the wound on their own. Check this one out for some brilliant and bizarre bits of comedy, some hilarious songs, and some moments that are just heartbreaking. I wanted to give this movie #1 with a bullet, but then again, I’m not ranking this year, and how on earth could I forget...

Get Out

This movie was amazing. I knew it would be from the first time I saw its trailer, but good zombie Jesus on a popsicle stick, did it deliver. Social horror is the best horror, because as weird and horrible as the movie gets, everything that happens in it actually fucking happens every day of the year. No, not not a young person of color getting kidnapped and brainwashed by a bunch of upper-class white people... Jesus, do you actually watch movies literally? Do you not understand allegory? Does the subject of race, and how privileged upper-class assimilation looks through a Twilight Zone lens make you uncomfortable? Then...

You thought I was gonna write “Get out!” didn’t you? Nah. Go watch this movie. If it makes you uncomfortable, good. 

BUT DANIEL, WHAT ABOUT THE LAST JEDI?

I liked it, okay? It wasn’t perfect, and I’m sure I’ll get into that in more depth in a later post (or perhaps even in a podcast... that’s right, I’m working on shit). But all in all, a great entry to the franchise, and the first SW movie for a while to actually have the balls to move the franchise in a new trajectory and build off what the OT started. If you disagree, you can go wank your Return of the Jedi Luke Saber in the corner and cry about the lack of fanservice. Your days are numbered, cannon police.

HONORABLE MENTIONS:

IT, GOTG Vol 2, and fuck it, I’m saying it: Dunkirk gave me a massive “meh.”

DID ANYTHING SUCK?

...The Election? Um... yeah, but I’m not going to the trouble of securing pictures for these. A list in short:

- Atomic Blonde

- Logan Lucky

- Kong: Skull Island

- Bright

- Max Landis in general

- Joss Whedon in general

And yeah. That’s a year at the movies. Toodles until 2018.

#journal #yearinmovies #2017

[literateape]

The Hard-Earned Lesson I Learned from Lydia, Molly, Ian and Hedy Weiss

by Don Hall

I swear to Gawd and All That is Holy that this will be my last word on two specific issues: the public shaming I endured this time one year ago AND Hedly Weiss.

Recently, I decided that avoiding The Moth was cutting off my own nose to spite my face.  Sure, I was the host for five years and was embarrassingly ejected from that spot because of an online kerfuffle that has left a bitter taste in my mouth.  Ultimately, I was my own worst enemy (more on that below…)

When I was the host, a regular storyteller decided to stop coming.  He told me it was because he never seemed to win and it was discouraging.  I told him at the time (and am now hearing my own advice) that he was signing up to tell stories at The Moth for the wrong reasons.  If winning was the point, he was missing the larger picture.

Most storytelling nights have an audience comprised mostly of other tellers.  The Moth routinely has a sold out house of civilians who are only there to hear stories.  If you want to be a storyteller, performing for an actual audience is essential.

So I’ll be writing stories and coming to The Moth and telling them.  Not to win, not to ‘save face,’ but to tell stories to an actual audience.

[SIDE NOTE: I was told Friday that I was to be denied 'membership' to the Facebook page "The Moth in Chicago" not to exclude me but to "prevent further controversy."  Ah, well...]

Last week, I wrote a story for the theme OUTNUMBERED and, you guessed it, it was about the online pillorying I took a year ago.  Seemed to fit the theme and it was cathartic to write the damn thing.  Except I wrote it, and re-wrote it, and went through 10 drafts before time ran out.  I hold to the "Don't be the hero OR the victim of your story" school of thought and this proved difficult in this case.

I forgot to buy a ticket online, it sold out, and I was told I would not be sold a walk up ticket (not to exclude me but to prevent further controversy...?) so I didn’t get in to tell the story.  The lesson there is to buy the tickets online.  So I will.

Here’s the story:

The hope was that the internet, with it’s capacity for instant communication, would allow us to tap into the inherent greatness that is the human potential.  True in some cases but mostly it has become the proliferation of Hatfields and McCoys, two factions hellbent on mutual destruction over nothing more than notches on the ears of a hog. 

The text was from a number I did not recognize. 

“I hope you fucking die, you racist piece of shit.” it said. 

What? 

I deleted it.  It was completely out of context with a text I normally might receive on a Tuesday morning sitting in my cubicle at public radio. 

My iPhone buzzed again.  Another number I didn’t know.  “We know where you live, motherfucker.” 

And another.  And another.  My personal Gmail box had five or six emails with similar messages, again from people I didn’t know. 

What the fuck? 

By 10AM that morning I had received 32 emails and 25 texts.  By 10:15AM, my colleague came in and looked anxious.  “Did you see it?  It’s awful.” 

Two days before I ended a five-year friendship.   

She was an up and coming performer who was looking for regular advice as she burst on the scene.  She was volatile - frequently she had gotten into a fight with another performer or a family member - but I liked her.  We laughed a lot.  Over those five years, I became what she called a “second father” to her son, the most "woke" white motherfucker around, one of her biggest fans and supporters, and while we would get into hot online debates about politics, we’d always come back and laugh about the reactions people would have about our arguments. 

At one point, she got into a fight with another performer who happened to also be good friend.  She blasted him on Facebook, calling him a racist, sexist psycho.  Things got very heated.  It was surprising as the two had been close friends for a long while.  They both asked me to mediate so I bought whiskey, beer and some Dimo’s pizza and invited them both over to bury the hatchet.  He showed, she didn’t.  My advice to him was to lay low and let it pass but do not fight back. 

Our friendship began to become strained after that.  She would accuse me of siding with people (including him) who she had issue with.  Our online fights became less playful.  Her politics became more polarizing.  Given that for her, Facebook was the ultimate soapbox, I unfollowed her so I could avoid getting into the fruitless online debates.  Finally, a year ago, she posted that the show I was the host of was a tool of white supremacy.  I couldn’t ignore it.  I argued with her and when it became obvious that we could not see eye to eye on it, I sent her an email letting her know that we could no longer be friends.  I unfriended and blocked her on Facebook. 

“Did you see it?  It’s awful.” 

“It” was a twenty-minute Facebook video she made and posted the following Monday morning that, from what I gather, had her crying and ranting about what a racist, sexist psycho I was, how I had never been her real friend and only had her around as a token, how heartbroken and angry she was that I had lied to her for so long.  She included screenshots of emails she had artfully edited as well as my phone number.  In twenty-four hours, her call to arms had created an online mob of 48-60 people, only about ten who even knew me.   

I was a predator.  A stalker.  A sociopath.  She and a few others (including the host of another “Live Lit” show and a very popular local actor) started a campaign to get me fired from both the show I hosted and my public radio gig.  In both the art and NPR worlds, the only thing worse than being accused of being a racist and a sexist is being accused of being a pedophile or voting for Trump. 

It was overwhelming.  It was like Fatal Attraction without the sex.  And, because I am stupid and not dissimilar from a Hatfield or a McCoy, I did not take my own advice and lay low.  I fought back.  I argued with every post that called for me to be fired from the show, I mocked her, I mocked others in her gang of public shamers. 

It was isolating.  It was infuriating.  I was fired from the show and reprimanded at work because who wants that kind of press?  I can’t blame them - I couldn’t get myself to back down and every interaction became a new slight to attack or defend. Instead of taking my own advice and ignoring the taunts and persecution, I fed into it by fighting back using their forum to do it.

Today, I’m pretty much a well-read expert on the subject of public shaming and the call out culture of the internet.  I've spoken with Jon Ronsen, the bestselling author of "So You've Been Publicly Shamed."  I know that the first case of the internet being used in this way was in 2005 when a Korean woman failed to clean up her dog's shit on a train.  She was so brutalized online, she killed herself so I figure I got off extremely lucky.   

Perhaps because I experienced it, I now see this sort of mob justice every day, where groups of people gang up on individuals whom they may not even know with the intent of personal destruction.  I’ve become for some who suddenly find themselves the victim of it a voice of support.   

In school, I recall being taught that when a bully comes after you, defend yourself, stand up and refuse to be bullied.  But there are no consequences for trolling someone online, no accountability, no burden to prove accusation.  Fighting back only fuels the vitriol, extending the damage.  Fighting back spins out of control over nothing more than notches on a hog’s ear.  In the high school of social media, I tell them that the best approach is to turn the goddamn machine off and leave the noise behind you. 

Not my best work but passable, I think.  Accurate, at least.  The most important thing I learned from Lydia, Molly and Ian was that the consequences of that tiny slice of controversy all came because I fought back.  I lost the hosting gig because I couldn’t be trusted to shut the fuck up about it.  I was reprimanded because I refused to back down.  In the writing of the story, I had to ask myself why I fought back.

I had to admit the hard truth - I cared what these people and the people they group themselves with thought of me.  I really hate admitting that.  Even in the melee, I kept insisting that I didn't care but the truth is I did.  Admitting that is more embarrassing than the time I crapped my pants in a Wichita, KS mall.

In the accountability-free zone that is the internet caring about what others think of you online is the ultimate weakness.  It is the source of angst that entices kids, bullied online relentlessly, to kill themselves or get guns and shoot up a school.  It is the Kryptonite for anyone online that saps the strength and pulls you into the fray.

It is the one thing those who decide to mob up and bully individuals are counting upon.

Which brings me to Hedly.

Unlike the shiny brand new activists who *say* they have endured her crap reviews for decades, I actually have.  I’ve been ignoring her critiques for 25 years - twenty of them as a theatrical producer.  Without any headlines, I stopped inviting her and CST to review shows in 1994.  Has she written racially insensitive, borderline bigoted shit in her reviews?  Yup - in perhaps 2% of her 30 years of writing them.  Hedly’s greatest sin is that she’s a bad critic.

But Hedly got it right on one thing, though.

She’s been called a racist, sexist hack by thousands of people online.  She’s been called into question in national publications.  Chicago is making this a spectacle all over the country and she has refused to comment even once.

In that regard, she has won.  Which is both discouraging that she genuinely doesn’t care what the artists she critiques think of her personally and encouraging as a lesson for those who will be publicly shamed in the future.  If you think you aren’t one of those future victims of the internet mob vigilantes, you’re like my wife who has almost zero social media presence.

If you have a social media presence, you are vulnerable to these sorts of Villagers with Torches moments.  Remember that they only win if you care what they think of you.

#The Moth #storytelling #OUTNUMBERED #public shaming #internet witch hunts #Hedy Weiss