#@my mother … was the green card worth it ?

[bibleofficial]

if this freak mechanic don’t got me my car by tomorrow i’m going to be soooo mad 😭😭 it’s been 4 DAYS !!!! WHATRE U EVEN DOIN 😭😭😭😭

#stream #i’m soooooooooooooooooo ANNOYED #IM MISERABLE #ITS BEEN BROKEN FOR A FUCKING WEEK #I SHOULDVE JUST TAKEN IT TO FUCKING FIRESTONE IMMMMM SOOOOOOOOO #REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE #IM SO AGITATED #I HATE HAVING TO RELY ON CARS BC MY CITY ACTIVELY REFUSES TO PUT IN ANY OTHER TRANSPORT INFRASTRUCTURE #i hate everyone sooooo much #i’m even like @my family y’all shouldn’t have moved here. anywhere else. #@my mother … was the green card worth it ? #I DONT THINK SO #SHOULDVE GOTTEN AN ENGLISHMAN !!!!!!!! #I HATE AMERICA I HATE AMERICA I HATE AMERICA I HATE AMERICA #AUSTRALIA WOULDVE BEEN ACCEPTABLE EVEN #I HATE THIS FUCKING CAR EVEN OH MY GOD #NEVER GET A CHEVY #IF ANYONE SAYS CHEVY IS A GOOD BRAND IS A FUCKING IDIOT AND A LIAR #ITS NOT ITS THE WORST ITS DOGSHIT JUST GET A TOYOTA #it’s a 2006 & i hate her soooooo much 😭😭😭😭😭😭 #y’all this car is old enough to join the military & i just want it to join the grave

[cherrychilli]

18+

Steve Harrington x AFAB reader, lots of shameless teasing by reader, slight exhibitionism, allusions to sex, teeniest tiniest smidge of perv! Steve

A/N: Inspired by the only scene of Cool Hand Luke I've seen. And that one short scene from Elvira: Mistress of the Dark. Just wanted to write something fun and a lil bit silly.

"C'mon sugar, chop chop - 's not gonna clean itself", he sing songs from the driver's seat of the BMW where he's been toying with the radio, scratchy static fading into a chorus of Scorpions' No one like you when he tunes into a station that suits his liking.

On a regular day a quip like that would have had you pinching one of his triceps, twisting the skin until he crumbled to his knees with a litany of pleas and apologies tumbling past his lips. But today was different because you both knew he was exempted from any retaliation. And boy, was he enjoying it.

Steve had been like this all morning, painfully smug, grin stretched Cheshire cat wide ever since you'd come over to make good on the card game you'd lost the night before.

It began as a casual game of poker over a few beers to make the lazy evening more interesting. You never played for much. The white chips were always worth 25 cents, the reds 50 cents and the greens were a dollar but he had you perking up when he suggested sweetening the pot that night.

"Oh yeah? what do you have in mind?", you'd asked this with subdued interest, munching down another mouthful of sea salt and vinegar chips, half expecting him to float the idea of strip poker as influenced by your viewing of The Wanderers earlier that night.

It wasn't unlike Steve to suggest something like that after he's had a few drinks and it wasn't unlike you to happily go along with whatever he's proposed after you've had a few drinks of your own. The two of you made quite a pair that way.

The last time it was skinny dipping down at Lovers Lake. A shared bottle of Gin bore the blame for the idea but by some miracle of intervention (or was it interruption?) Jim Hopper happened to be cruising by to put a stop to it before things could go any further. Nothing like the fuzz rolling up on you in your underwear to dampen the mood.

But last evening didn't take that kind of a turn and you didn't have to sit there cursing yourself for not having the foresight to wear sexier underwear for very long.

This time you laid blame on the beers and that one swig of sickeningly saccharine Pineapple Schnapps left over from a party the week before for impacting your judgement, agreeing to raise the stakes to include the winner getting to delegate their weekend chores to the loser.

Steve went all in, chips tossed into the middle of his mother's new and perfectly lacquered walnut table, too buzzed and wound up in the competitive tension in the room to worry about accidentally scuffing it.

You considered your cards for a few short seconds, poker face perfectly unreadable. A full house, Queens over Jacks sat burning hot in your hands, making you call, pushing your chips over into the pile with more care than Steve had shown his own.

For a moment, you thought you had it and he let you think as much, his pink lips drooping into a frown with his head bowed, hand carding through his hair to mimic defeat when you slid your cards over.

But the thrill of not having to spend half the day mowing your lawn and weeding the garden was extinguished after three glorious seconds. He placed his cards down quietly though when you read them, the impact felt more like a gavel coming down, sentencing you to a day of doing his bidding.

Four of a kind. Kings.

Shit.

The Schnapps and the beer picked that moment to start sparring in your belly, adding to the bitter flavor of defeat washing over your tongue like an oil spill.

And then came that smirk which hasn't left his lips since. "I'll see you in my driveway tomorrow bright and early, sunshine", he winked at you in that way that had you torn between wanting to flip his mother's stupid table and climbing over it to kiss her stupid smarmy son.

And now here you were, greeted by the same insufferable smirk as you trudged up to his driveway on a Saturday morning to wash his car, hangover thankfully averted and with a fresh outlook on the situation since sobering up. He doesn't know it yet but you're not as sore about the loss as you seem.

Strangely, you had Steve's porno collection to thank for that.

You figured him to be kind of guy who preferred a dirty VHS over the classic skin mag especially now that he had an employee discount to abuse but a few months ago you'd found out that you'd guessed wrong.

You hadn't let on about the time you went looking to borrow a pair of spare socks one nippy evening from one of his drawers and found a busty, definitely not a licensed nurse despite the uniform, smoldering back at you instead.

Unearthing the magazine from beneath the pile of tube socks it'd been partially shoved under, you quietly acquainted yourself with the ladies of Genesis Magazine's Girls/Girls Fall 1987 issue. Recalling one page that had been dog eared, you learned the nurse had friends who liked to get naked and soaked when it came time to hose down their cherry red Chevy Camaro.

Suddenly, having you out in the sweltering heat, working up a sweat and scrubbing down his beamer while he watched didn't seem like innocent happenstance anymore. In fact the whole thing made you feel a little inspired.

So you thought to yourself, why not have a little fun?

Granted, you weren't planning on losing your top and straddling the hood like the redhead on page seven. Not in Steve's white picket fence neighborhood of all places, but you did still have something less than savory in mind.

He didn't even suspect anything when you asked to go change into something more comfortable to hose down his precious car, your jeans already feeling more than a little uncomfortable since you'd left your house in this heat.

Another perfectly cloudless azure sky hung over the neighborhood. Too sunny and muggy and at that hour of the morning where everyone else was still inside. Some slept in because it was Saturday while others slept off their Friday night. Those who were awake were already in their pools or in the kitchen, cracking ice cubes out of trays into big, dewy glasses of lemonade, intermittently sipping and holding the chilly glass up to soothe their sweaty temples.

If the heat bothered Steve he didn't show it, one hand resting on the steering wheel, fingers tapping along to the radio awaiting your return. He'd been looking forward to this all night since his winning hand and nothing could sour his anticipation now.

But he couldn't have anticipated what he saw when he catches sight of you through the rear view mirror, his fingers fumbling, losing his composure quicker than if he'd slipped on ice.

You strolled out like something ripped out of one of his wet dreams, shoes swapped for flip flops, snug denim cut offs replacing your jeans, white tee instead of the teal blue you'd shown up in and hips swaying.

His mouth was agape as you walked up to him. "What are you up to?", he spoke in a voice thick with suspicion, stare heavy and darting all over you like there was too much or you on display and not nearly enough at the same time.

"I'm washing your car like you we agreed. Changed your mind?", you challenged him with a hand on your hip, eyes narrowed into a look as sharp as a knife's edge, daring him to question you again.

"No..."

"Alright then", you eased into a smile, more roguish than your usual chaste, bumping your hip against the driver's side door which up until now had been ajar, closing Steve inside. He lets you do this, something about the new clothes coupled with your 'don't fuck with me' vibe making him feel strangely obedient.

Everything you needed was already left out for you. A bucket, a half full bottle of car wash soap, a sponge and the hose nearby.

You start with the hose first, making sure to bend over to pick it up rather than crouch beside it as you turned it on, legs straight, back arched nice and pretty, ass popped out. You didn't spend that extra fifteen minutes stretching at home for nothing!

It's vastly different from all the other times he's stared at your ass. Used to doing it in sneaky glances in the past, Steve can hardly believe the obvious way you flaunt yourself for him now, afraid if you keep it up he might fog up the windshield all on his own.

Running water spouts out the hose and you're not the least bit careful with how you aim the stream into the bucket to fill it up, splashing your thighs and forearms, the sun making your wet skin glow glossy under its rays.

Number 8 on Billboard's top ten singles of the month starts to play on the radio but it goes unheard by Steve over the sound of his own heartbeat thumping in his ears, watching you wrap your fingers around the thick, cylindrical bottle and squeezing it to squirt soap into the bucket.

It's all so calculated and deliberately dirty, even though you try to play it off all innocent. You even plaster on a faux look of surprise when you stand too close to the BMW to rinse it, water splashing back onto your clothes, denim turning dark, white tee turning transparent...

Steve nearly chokes on the saliva pooling in his mouth when he notices that you're not wearing a bra. No swimsuit or even a bikini on underneath. He tears his eyes away long enough to quickly survey the neighborhood and when he doesn't find any of his neighbors in sight he fixes them back on you.

He should stop you, right?

He shouldn't just sit there and watch, right?

It wouldn't be correct to let you parade yourself in front of him like this...

Right?

Turning off the hose, you grasp the sponge and dunk it into the soapy water, pulling it out all sopping and heavy to wring it out over the bucket, purposely holding it close to your chest so the excess water can cascade down your front.

Nothing could have stolen his attention away from the way your tits jiggle in your soaking, skin tight tee as you lean over and put some elbow grease into running the sponge over the hood of his car in soapy circles. Peeking up through your lashes you catch the way his cheeks blend from a subtle mauve to a pretty fuchsia from behind the windshield, deciding you'd like to get a closer look.

He thinks he might flatline when you saunter closer and lean over the side of the hood. Reaching as far as you can to sponge the windshield, you're certain the poor boy's probably straining against his zipper by now as your wet tits press up against the glass.

It's so obvious and indecent. And fun. Getting to dangle yourself in front of Steve like this so unabashedly out here in the open, sticking a pin in that irritating, albeit harmless, cocksure attitude he'd shown you at the start, watching it deflate with a wicked smile.

It was the sweetest torture, watching your body clad in soaked clothes, skin glistening, the contours of your breasts and nipples so evident now that you might as well be topless.

"Can't fucking take this anymore", you hear him mutter when he reaches his limit and exits the car, hand finding your waist to spin you around. He uses the other to snatch the soapy sponge out of your fingers and toss it out of sight, letting it land with a wet plop on the driveway.

"I'm taking you inside", he groans when you lean into him, wet tits pressing against his chest, turning the front of his blue polo a dark navy, thigh grazing his bulge.

"Why?" you ask all coy, not ready to retire the innocent act without batting your lashes at him first, your lips only a breath apart from his.

"Because I don't think they'd let me live here anymore if they came outside and found me bending you over the hood, darling", he replies, a second before his lips come down on yours.

#steve harrington smut #stranger things smut #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader

[use-ur-inside-voice]

Past Lives: How can a movie be so beautiful yet painful?

I watched Past Lives this past Tuesday, and I have some thoughts. I won’t necessarily speak to the movie itself, but instead to how this movie made me feel. After I left the theater, I felt this wave of sadness rush to me. I couldn’t shake the feeling of sadness as I thought about Nora and how her story is so similar to the stories of other immigrants. I know that a lot of people have been taken with the romance in this movie, but I think we all need to step back and refocus for a bit. This is a movie about immigrants, and how immigration can impact everything and everyone. As I was saying, I couldn’t shake this feeling of sadness after leaving the theater. I could only think about my mother, and how her life would be different if she didn’t immigrate to the U.S.

Would she still be a nurse? Would she have followed her passions of being an English teacher or a lawyer? Would she have more kids? Would my sisters and I know our mother tongue fluently instead of constantly asking, “What does that mean?” Would I be close with my grandmother whom I never see or understand? Would I feel the pressures of having to be extremely successful in order to feel like my life was worth it? That my parents’ pilgrimage to the U.S. was worth it? That their sacrifice was worth it? How would being the eldest daughter be if not for my immigrant parents making me feel like I need to be the saving grace of the family? Would be mother be happy? Would we be happy? 

Every so often, my parents pull out their old photo albums and show me who they once were. Photos of large smiles on faces I don’t recognize. Photos of friends, aunts and uncles at parties that I have never met. Seeing my parents light up at the photos and hearing them go on and on about what life was like when they were in their home country. The community they once had, the lives they lived, the happiness they experienced. I could see the longing for those memories in their eyes, full of glee and sadness at the same time. 

My parents, especially my mother, speaks in the future tense. “Once I go back home...,” “I’m going to walk on the beach...” “I can’t wait to see my sisters again...” “I hope I can see my mom one more time...” It pains me to think that the life that my mother lives is not one that she longed for. It’s not a life she wanted. She longs for something I can not give her. And so I’m left with the thought of what would life look life if my parents never won a green card in the green card lottery? Would my mother be happy? 

Past Lives is a beautiful yet painful reminder that the life of an immigrant can be upended in seconds, whether for better or worse. It is more than just a love story, in fact, the romance between the two main characters acts as a vehicle to show us the real meaning behind the movie. Who were we? Who are we? And who will we become? It is sometimes too painful to think about what could’ve been, but something I learned from Past Lives is that it is also beautiful to reminisce on the past, embrace the present, and look forward to the future. I hope someday my mother can go back to her home country and live out the rest of her days, and I hope once she does that I never have to ask, “Would my mother be happy?”

#past lives a24 #past lives #past lives movie #past lives nora #past lives review #movie review #past lives movie review #a24 #pastlives #hae sung #greta lee #teo yoo #celine song #Celine song a24

[textbook-dinner]

so i wrote a fanfiction..

One thousand years into the future, Kasane Teto wants nothing more than to be famous and loved. What better way to achieve that goal than to enrol at Vocaloid Academy and learn how to be an idol? Unfortunately, she’s stuck in run-down Utau Academy, where the most exciting thing that happens is a substitute teacher.

But in her quest to become a Vocaloid, Teto may discover powers far beyond her comprehension, and secrets that shatter the very fabric of her world…

Hiyama Kiyoteru

10 Kotone Road

Otomura

Japan

Tuesday, 28 February 3009

Kasane Teto

401 Akane Street

Otomura

Dear Mx Kasane,

I regret to inform you that your position in

Vocaloid Academy has been reevaluated due to unusual circumstances. We have enrolled you in Utau Academy instead, which is located on 16 Munashi Road. Classes begin at 9:00 am on 1 March.

Yours sincerely,

Hiyama Kiyoteru

Teto folded up the letter and continued walking. She wiped her blood-red eyes with her sleeve.

Rays of spring sunlight reflected off the holomirrors and shone between the buildings of either side of them, illuminating their two long, crimson curls and the patterns on their blue-gray-green outfit. It also illuminated the creases and stains on their military-styled clothes, but she supposed that couldn’t be helped. After all, she’d had to sleep in them for years, which granted her more than the fair share of teasing in primary school. Teto shivered.

She reached the end of the road and pressed the traffic light more times than was strictly necessary. Teto tapped the button in time to a tune that she would forget in a minute.

Hopefully this school will be better.

Teto had never managed to be liked by her classmates or even her parents, but that meant that the only way to go was up.

The colour of the light shifted from a too-bright red to a eye-bleaching green as Teto strode across the purple-blue tarmac. It was speckled with darker patches, which were liquid concrete capsules, designed to solidify and repair the road in case of accidents.

At least, that’s what the book she had stolen from the library as an eight year old said. Her mother had refused to get her a library card, on the grounds that it would fill her mind with irritating ideas and obsessions. Teto didn’t really understand what she meant. Didn’t everyone want to know the technicalities of road works at some point in their lives?

Once, when she was ten, her home economics teacher had asked the class to write a couple of paragraphs about how bread is made. Teto had arrived at school the next day with five pages’ worth of writing about the types of genetically modified wheat and the types of loaf they produced.

She didn’t make that mistake again.

Teto breathed out. She wasn’t at Koyone School anymore. She shouldn’t care.

What’s the point of a new school if I’m just going to drag my past around inside me? Teto pushed the school gates open. They were much lighter than she thought they would be.

She strode across the gravel path that led to the main building. It was bordered with dark green raspberry bushes that looked like emeralds in the early morning light. Every once in a while, the bushes would be broken up by reddish-brown benches scattered around the yard. They were the exact right level for someone to sit while picking berries from the highest branches.

Excitement bubbled up inside her. Every time she’d see something that she liked, no matter how small, Teto would get a little burst of energy. Not enough to run around or jump up and down, but enough to nessecitate flicking a hand or two.

She knew she was early, she knew she there was nobody inside to hear her, yet she tugged on the glass door. It didn’t move; Teto thought as much. It was otrynoxide glass: advertised on the vision as “bullet, grenade, missile and chimera proof.” Why they felt the need to put “chimera” in as a potential hazard Teto could never figure out. Even she knew that the lion-like, anthropomorphic beasts had died out thirty years ago.

Teto rotated on her heels and walked back the way she came. She hadn’t noticed it before, but behind the raspberry bushes there was a plantation of cherry trees, arranged in haphazard ways. She smiled. If even the trees were uneven, then maybe the first few weeks here wouldn’t be that bad. The first few weeks before she got back into Vocaloid Academy, of course.

They half-leaped onto the bench and waited for the other students to show up.

Ate raspberries, and waited.

Watched the clouds race each other across the sky, and waited.

Tried to eat the cherries, and waited.

Spit out the unripe cherries, and waited.

Waited, and waited.

They jumped up suddenly from the bench. They knew, subconsciously that it was still an hour before school began.

She pushed the cyan-tinted bushes aside and returned to the cherry tree. Teto tilted her head back. The branches struck out from the trunk like a perfectly imperfect starburst of leaves and fruits. Maybe if she stepped onto this one here… Her body moved before her mind, like she had climbed this tree before.She gripped the wave-patterned bark as she pulled herself up.

With every inch she got from the ground, it felt as if weights were lifted from her chest that she didn’t even know were there. Teto soon wondered how they ever breathed with all that pressure.

All too soon, the branches thinned and Teto was forced to stop. She could feel the ultramarine sky above her. She wanted to feel the wind rush through her hair, trace the outlines of her face and curve her wings into their fullest shape.

She glanced behind her. Her shoulders were as normal as ever. Is this one of those delusions people get? Oh Crypton, I can’t afford to have more going on with me.

Teto wrapped her body around the reassuringly solid branch around her and forced her eyelids shut.

I am Kasane Teto. I am fourteen years old and I start secondary school today.

Today is the 1st of March, 3009.

They opened their eyes a crack to see the whitewashed walls of Utau Academy about two metres below the ground, shining in the sun.

I am not a failed Vocaloid.

She wrenched her gaze away from the grey-beige shape, and glanced in the opposite direction, towards the fence. The road leading towards the school was completely deserted. The only people around were the ones that popped up now and again on the holomirrors. These were originally designed to focus sunlight down from the tops of the skyscrapers, but now they absorbed so much light they worked more like billboards.

An advertisement for a cafe faded seamlessly into one about headphones, then again into a video about the importance of vaccinating androids against malware, and lastly into 39 News. She had first discovered her idol on that mirrorshow, about five or six years ago- she would have been eight that day.

It had been a typical day for Teto: beginning with Mom and Dad shoving her out of the door, and ending with having to hide from Yukari and her gang.  After taking a detour through a few side streets, where the buildings were only ten metres tall, she had to admit she was lost.

Panic began to creep into her, slowly choking her from the outside. The street looked safe enough now, but what would it be like in two hours’ time? Or more?

Just then, she noticed one of the holomirrors had switched their displays. She looked up.

Maybe they’d show a map of the streets. Teto loved reading maps.

On the screen, two twenty-something girls, probably sisters, had jumped into their plush seats. They both had the same ginger hair and green eyes, the only differences between them were their clothes: one had a white top and the other was wearing black.

“Hello Otomura! I’m Kanon,” the one on the right had exclaimed, the more serious of the two.

“And I’m Anon,” chimed in the one wearing white. “This is 39 News, and today we’ll be interviewing none other than the diva, the icon.”

“The biggest consumer of antigravity bands this side of the Pacific,” Anon had mumbled.

“Hatsune Miku!” Anon cheered, throwing out her limbs and spinning around in her chair. The sleeves of her shirt trailed behind her. Kanon’s expression was unreadable.

Another chair, this one blue instead of the warm orange of the sisters’ seats, had conveniently materialised out of the floor. Anon regained her composure just as another girl strode towards her and shook her hand, which set her off again.

She had flowing, aquamarine hair, the same colour as her eyes, which shined like emeralds in the studio lights. She was only a year or so older than Teto, she realised with a jolt.

“So, Miss Hatsune, you’ve managed to become one of the most beloved singers in Japan,” stated Kanon.

“Miku.”

“Haha, excuse me?”

“Just call me Miku. It feels strange to be called Miss by someone ten years older than you,” she smiled.

She acted like conversation was so natural. Not once did she slip up or forget the word for something or talk so slowly that the other person got distracted halfway through. And the others seemed to really respect her, despite Anon’s fits of giggles and Kanon’s coldness. She was like a magnet for love…

“Speaking of that,” Anon interrupted, leaning over the back of her seat, “how did you manage to get popular at such a young age. That’s exactly what me and my sister have been trying to do for years.”

“That’s what you were trying to do. I was trying to get a girlfriend,” Kanon said dryly.

“Same thing!” Anon spun around, kicking off the carpeted floor. Teto wondered how much it had cost, and who would have to repair it later.

“No, relationships require mutual cooperation and understanding and you don’t get any of that in-“ Kanon sighed, resting her face in her gloved hands. “You can only control yourself, you can only control yourself.”

“Anyway, what is the secret of your success?”

“My success?” She laughed, then sighed deeply, as if mentally preparing herself for what she was about to say. Anon stopped spinning.

“But my real inspiration was always my brother. He was already stressed from having to take care of me after our parents,”- she hiccupped slightly- “died, but he still had the time to pursue what he loved.

He was the one who helped me write the lyrics to my first song.”

Miku’s aquamarine ponytails fell over her face.

Teto gasped. 

If she can be loved by millions without her parents, then maybe there’s still hope for someone like me.

There’s always hope.

 And with that, she set off. Somehow or other, she found her way to here. She may have imagined it a little more poetically, and preferably ending in her getting friends, but still! She would have been going to Chipspeech if it hadn’t been for her efforts, and she’d never met a single famous coder.

“Hey.”

Teto jumped. She spun around and saw two serious-looking eyes looking up at her. One was a fiery red, the other the same shade of deep blue as the streak in the person’s black hair. Well, black wasn’t the right way to describe it.  It was more a mixture of hues ranging from dark grey to indigo to the colour of the sea on a moonlit night.

She leaped off the branch immediately. This person was much taller than her, and probably older, but Teto wasn’t sure. She wasn’t good at judging the ages of teachers.

Why did I have to get in trouble before school even began? I can just imagine what they’d be talking about.

“I’m sorry, Mr- Mr,” she stammered. He had probably mentioned his name already. And of course I had to forget it, like everyone else’s names.

“Mister?” The stranger burst out laughing.

“Oh, if I had a hundred yen every time somebody thought I was in my twenties, I wouldn’t owe Rook any money.” He looked suddenly alarmed. “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Teto nodded, still getting rid of the guilt she had began to feel. 

“Ruko’s the name, and coffee’s my game,” They reached out their left hand, the one without a glove.

“I’m Teto,” she replied. Did they just really like drinking coffee, or was there a new sport involving drinking as much coffee as one could in a minute? Did she invent that sport? Are there jobs dedicated to inventing sports? How would I know?

“I don’t really play any competitive sports,” she said, just to be on the safe side.

“Figure of speech. Anyway, what brings you here? It’s not every day I see someone climbing trees in this day and age.”

“Didn’t want to be late,” they mumbled.

Ruko looked at them.

“I mean, I showed up here early so that I wouldn’t be late, and climbed the tree to see if anyone else was coming.” Right after she finished talking, she realised several ways she could have said that better.

“I’m not the kind of weirdo who spies on strangers, by the way. In case you were wondering.” There was a slight pause.

 “Sorry for assuming the subjects of your wonderment.”

Teto screamed internally. Who even says wonderment nowadays? He’s going to hate me, and pretend to be my friend, and I won’t be able to tell anyone’s motives apart.

“No, no, you’re cool. I’ve never had my wonderment assumed before.” She smiled, and they were gripped by an urge to smile back at her. All too briefly, it was gone.

“You seem organised. Maybe you could convince my brother to act normal for once.” They sighed in an over-exaggerated way, putting one hand on their chest, as the other clenched into a fist.

“Wait, what’s wrong with him?” Teto asked, suddenly animated. It’s probably impossible. But maybe- maybe he’s like me.

Ruko lazily opened an eye. “Always late,” he said, with an expression of misery. “He has to leave half an hour early to every event he goes to, and even then he’s ten minutes late.”

“Not true,” chimed a deep voice in the distance. Teto spun around. A person was ambling across the grass. This was clearly Ruko’s brother: few other people would measure up to his height. He strolled up to his sibling and turned to Teto.

“Don’t listen to Ruko,” he whispered. “The only reason I’m late is that I have to spend forty minutes waking her up each morning.”

They both had the same brown skin and dark hair: one of the only differences between them was that both of his eyes were red. His short, messy hair shone with ruby hues, instead of Ruko’s cyan shades.

“It’s not my fault I need my beauty sleep,” sniffed Ruko. “Clearly you wouldn’t know anything about that, Rook.”

“It’s true, I don’t.” Rook looked down at his oil-coloured shoes. “Only because I don’t have any siblings who are actually beautiful!” He jumped up, narrowly missing Ruko’s blows.

“You take that back!” his sibling laughed, pushing him onto the grass. Rook grabbed one of Ruko’s purple-coat tails and pulled them down unexpectedly. They yelped, startled into a feminine voice.

“You idiot! It’s going to take me all day to switch back now,” he grumbled in an unfamiliar pitch.

Teto had heard of people who could speak with different voices before, but she’d never actually met one of them before. The most popular hypothesis was that after years of training their voice, singers eventually passed their abilities down though genetics. It was a pretty shoddy theory, but the only other option was that it was an artificially created mutation, and nobody wanted to think about that.

Teto watched the siblings wrestle on the ground, and sighed. The chasm in her heart that she tried to hide opened up once again. She was on the outside.

When they were younger, they would walk past sisters and brothers on the way to school, always talking or bickering or hugging. None of them ignored each other the way Teto’s parents ignored them, and even if they did, they always made it up afterwards.  When she was six, she tried to get her friend’s moms to adopt her.

“Oh, Teto,” they laughed, after ruffling her hair, “your family love you deep down, don’t you know that? Now, chin up.”

If only that was true.

Creak.

The school gates were pushed open. Teto winced. It was still a mystery as to why the school never bothered to replace its analogue gates. Maybe they couldn’t afford to, or maybe they wanted to seem unique. Either way, the sound made her want to claw out her ears.

Two people entered the yard and stopped at the bench opposite her. They both had blue hair and oddly formal clothing, but the similarities ended there. The girl was looking around like she had never seen the sky in her life, while the boy was focused on cleaning his monocle.

The dapper duo’s arrival was just the beginning of a tidal wave of people that swept towards the school. Students of all shapes, colours and sizes soon began to fill up the yard. A boy with translucent hair chatted to someone whose eyes were covered with a caracal-styled helmet, while a girl tried and failed to stuff a blue balloon into her bag.

The sound of their talking burned. It was like someone was sprinkling pepper inside her skull. She could feel their voices pressing in on her, and it made her acutely aware of the sweat running down her forehead.

Is this how I die? Teto thought feverishly.

No, I can’t die. I have to become a Vocaloid. I have to show them that I’m worth loving.

They pulled their hands over their ears. She pushed her way through the crowd, dodging the hoverskaters and jumping over ponytails.

 “And then I said, “import your own oranges!””  gossiped someone. She ducked to avoid being hit by an arm. A small green creature darted towards her, sending her flying into someone. Heads turned towards her.

“Watch where you’re going, airhead!”

“Sorry!” Teto yelled, skipping around a gaggle of robots. They glared at her. “Sorry!” she said again, not stopping to look behind. She had to get away, to a place where she could think.

After what seemed like forever, the view cleared and cool shadows covered her.  There were fewer people here. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

They stepped over a snoozing girl, and made her way across the lawn. Instead of raspberries, the bushes here bloomed with fuschias and carnations, more naturally coloured than Teto was used to.

With every step away from the crowd, a wave of calm washed over her, sweeping away the dizzy warmth. She wished she could stay here forever, where she didn’t have to wait for something to be said that made her want to cry or scream or faint so that she couldn’t feel anything anymore. Here, they didn’t have to monitor every word they said and how they said it, in case the other person would use it against them.

It was a bit lonely, but that was alright by her. After all, nobody could mock what she was saying in her head.

A flash of silver.

They blinked.

The sun shone through the trees, reflecting off a metal structure in the distance. As Teto got closer, they could see droplets of water were spurting out of the centre, arcing into the air and cascading back down into the pool.

A fountain.

She rushed towards it. Inside the stainless steel basin, shimmers of sunlight and reflections of the sky competed for area. The bottom was devoid of leaves and the other dirt one would expect to find in a fountain surrounded by leaves.

Leaning in closer, she angled her head. She had filed her fangs yesterday, but it was better to be sure.

“Oh, are you crying?”

Teto whirled around. Luckily, the person wasn’t talking to them. He was facing a girl whose long white hair spilled over onto the ground where she was sitting.

The girl sniffed, leaning back into the tree. Black sleeves trailed down over her hands. She pulled some of her snow-coloured hair over her face, looking away.

“Weak.”

The girl inhaled sharply. Even from a distance, Teto could see her eyes beginning to shine.

“Weak, that’s what you are,” the guy continued. “I thought that here would be the one place where I wouldn’t have to deal with all these whiny humans”- the way he said it made it seem like a swear – “but you proved me wrong.”

She scowled, as if this happened to her on a regular basis. “Crypton, I wish I wasn’t on stealth.”

Something flashed in the girl’s eyes. “Ritsu-“

“You don’t know my name!” she yelled. “I would never tell it to someone like you!”

He looked around angrily, and his gaze caught Teto’s.

“And what are you staring at, weirdo, with your shiny cat eyes? I swear, if this is a new human fashion-“

They blinked. Were their slit pupils really that noticeable?  At least they wouldn’t have to look Ritsu- if that was her name- in the eyes, which was always a plus. Teto’s gaze scanned their opponent.

Ritsu was a little shorter than her, but much more commanding. His deep mauve-brown dress was layered with painstakingly sewn golden frills, the same colour as the hat that was attached to his headphones. The white portion of her top fanned out in a triangle shape and was edged with delicate black stripes, the same colour as her choker. Ritsu’s long, straight hair was the colour of heated copper and sweet wrappers on a sunny day.

He stared her down with eyes that made her think of jewel beetles.

“We have the same kind of belt,” Teto observed. Wait, I wasn’t supposed to say that!

“I like it,” she followed up quickly. Hopefully a compliment would defuse the situation. But then again, Ritsu seemed like the kind of girl who got compliments almost daily.

Her expression was unreadable. Perhaps she was trying to smile, or maybe she had remembered that there was a piece of mould on the bread she had earlier.

At least she’s not actively trying to make my life harder. Hooray! I guess. It’s better than what I’ve had to endure over the winter break.

Teto motioned to the girl, who was watching the two from beside the tree. Go! Run! Hide! Run and hide! It was a shame telepathy only worked for robots.

“Oh no you won’t!” said Ritsu. “I’m not letting her go until she tells me how she knows me.”

He glared down at the girl. “You’re not one of them, are you?”

“Them? I don’t know who you’re talking about!” she half-sobbed. “Besides, you were the one who started this conversation.”

“I saw you writing notes about me in your diary.”

“I don’t have a diary!”

Ritsu reached into the girl’s bag, which was lying a small distance away. “Then what do you call this?” He brandished a drab-looking dark blue notebook in front of her. It was covered in stickers of hearts and cupcakes.

“That’s- that’s my home economics journal.”

She started flicking through it. “Dear Diary,” Ritsu read out. “I can’t believe it. Today I didn’t get into Vocaloid Academy.”

Tears ran down the girl’s cheeks.

“Mother said that I never had any hopes of getting into it in the first place, and that I should just get a job without any qualifications.”

She was sobbing at this point, and her hair was completely covering her face.

Ritsu looked at her for a second, as if he almost felt bad about what he was doing, then continued.

“I haven’t told her about uncle Dell. He says that my training begins tomorro-“

He glared at her. “Dell? Who Dell?”

“I don’t know his surname. Yowane, probably, same as my mother. But I could be wrong,” she added hastily.

Ritsu paused. “This is too suspicious to be a coincidence, but he never mentioned anything about family…” She stood up, and walked straight into Teto.

“What on earth are you still doing here?”

The white-haired girl looked up at Teto. Her blood-red eyes were filled with tears.

“You think you’re so tough, and yet you’ve been standing here the whole time, not even lifting a finger,” snarled Ritsu.

“I- I know what it’s like-“ they turned towards the girl. Why can’t I just speak?

“Don’t tell me you’ve been kicked out of Vocaloid Academy too!” Ritsu exclaimed. “Wait until the rest of first year find out. I heard that the school paper has been running low on news lately.”

It felt like Teto was being consumed by rage. She scowled, fighting the instinct.  “You can’t just throw out someone’s secrets to be ripped apart by strangers!” she half-screamed, as her hands clenched into fists uncontrollably.

“Who’s going to stop me?” She smirked. “Grow up, drill hair. At least my actions have a purpose.”

At least my actions have a purpose.

They roared, springing off the ground and knocking into Ritsu. She flinched at the  unexpected cold, but that made her even angrier. Everything was a blur of red and grey and purple and green.

Whatever she could find, she pushed away from her, ripping out rows upon rows of gold just so that he could feel what it was like to want to roar out.  Teto grabbed hold of the back his piano-key top, pulling it towards her, then letting go with force.

Ritsu turned towards her with a vengeful expression. Teto ducked as a series of bright flashes lit up. In a swift movement, she grabbed Ritsu around the waist and shoved him as hard as she could.

All the anger seeped out of her as quickly as it appeared.

Teto watched, panting, as Ritsu stepped out of the crater in the fountain. She looked around. A crowd had gathered around them. One of the nearby trees had somehow caught fire.

“Thanks for saving me,” whispered the girl. “but I wouldn’t get into fights with him again, if I

were you.”

Teto was about to ask why, but then she looked towards Ritsu. He had taken off his sleeves to dry them in the sunlight. Even from a distance, there was no mistaking the

Metallic joints and seams running along his arms. What she had belived to be freckles on his face were in fact screws.

Teto’s newest enemy was a battle android.

#vocaloid academy #not a reblog #not art #my writing #writing #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writers and poets #utau #vocaloid #vocal synth #namine ritsu #ritsu namine #kasane teto #teto kasane #utauloid #yokune ruko #ruko yokune #utau rook #rook utau #sukone tei #tei sukone #hatsune miku #miku hatsune #vocaloid anon #anon vocaloid #kanon vocaloid #vocaloid kanon

[rantingsofthehumanmind]

A Diamond in The Rough

SFW (Yandere!Loki x Plus Size!Reader)

Part 2

If you are uncomfortable with yandere content do not proceed with this post

There's an intense pressure present in the air between you and Loki as you two sat across from each other in a cafe near his apartment, one of his chose of course. A soft thanks to the cashier sends them rushing back to the counter from the awkward silence.

You let out a yawn as Loki pulls out his phone probably typing away to one of his business partners. Or maybe was it his mother? Insulting you no less about the outfit you chose today while she tells him that he worries too much.

You're chewing your lip at the thought when Loki sighs, "Despite this being only a simple cafe I'd aspect some decorum from you."

"You call me after a week of silence and start with an underhanded insult how very like you," you roll your eyes and pick up the drink scrunching your nose up at the smell. "This is not what I ordered."

"Of course, I had them replace it with something more fitting." Loki smiles to himself as he takes a sip from his drink. "But in my defense you were the one who cut off contact with me"

Great. You place the drink down and take a deep breath, "Do you remember anything before that?"

"Other than being a gentleman and all around perfect boyfriend? Nothing."

Leaning into the table tou talk in a low tone to not catch the attention of anyone in the cafe. "Loki, I'm not in a joking mood. I meet one of your business partners for the first time and you tell them I'm you're assistant? Are you that much of an asshole? Do you not respect me."

"You were not looking up to par when we met," Loki shrugs. "Don't worry I'll clear everything up once we fix a few things."

"What things?"

"Well." He waves a hand at you. "While my family and I are accepting of how you look I can't really say others will. But dear just know I only say this from the bottom of my heart, I care.

Your face feels hot as you hold back tears, "Loki, am I some kind of embrassment to you. Do you even love me? Hell do you even like me? What was the point of us even being together."

Loki's cold slender hands offer no little comfort as he pets your cheek, "You my love are the most precious jewel to me. And as so you must be polished so the world can see it too. Don't you agree? I'm simply doing my best to give you the life you deserve, you should be grateful."

Grateful. Maybe he's right, he bought you expensive gifts. Treats you nicely, introduced you to his parents despite your lower status. It makes sense to try and form yourself into something worth his time. But what about those nights where he said he loved you just as you were. Kissing your scars, tracing your stretchlines... Was that all a lie?

You're gentle when you remove his hand from your cheek and offer a small smile. "Yes, let me be grateful for everything you've done for me. Starting with this drink here."

Picking up the cold drink you take off the lid and drop the contents on his head, making sure it poured down onto his expensive suit. You stand pulling out your wallet and tossing the emergency card he given you. "Loki Laufeyson, I never want to see your face again. We're done, fuck you and fuck whatever this was."

The chair scratches at the tile as you stand and ignore the chatter from the other cafe guests but Loki grabs at your wrist before you can pull away.

Wiping away the hair sticking on his face and you're hit with his bright green eyes with an intensity you’ve never seen before. "You're making a big mistake, darling. If you say sorry I might still forgive you."

It's a struggle to get out of his grip but you yank your arm free, feeling the pain from his tight grip. "I don't need forgiveness I just want you to be gone from my life."

You walk out the cafe feeling vindicated clutching your bag and refusing to look back. But the throb of your wrist and the look Loki gave you leaves an unsettling feeling in your heart.

#yandere #loki x reader #yandere loki laufeyson #chubby reader #plus size reader #yandere insert #reader insert #x reader #self insert #i write i cri

[f4erienotk4t]

FT Next Gen Masterlist

Below is my masterlist of my Fairy Tail Next Generation characters + headcanons! Sorry for the wait @noodlelove3000 !

Orsa Redfox

She is 21 years old (Virgo).

Magic: Requip Magic, Scripture Magic

Likes: abandoned buildings, humming.

Hobbies: exploring, practicing guitar skills.

Has a serious or stern personality.

Is polite and respectful.

A slight germaphobe.

She can be described as “cute” and “intimidating”.

She is five feet and three inches tall (or about 160 centimeters).

An S-Class mage.

Emotionally-restrained.

Unintentionally insensitive.

Introverted.

Not a fan of household pets, but finds an interest in wild animals.

Owns a bunch of stuffed animals.

She refuses to take responsibility for something she was, indirectly, tasked to do.

Piercings: Earlobes, Left Double Helix, Right Orbital, Right Daith, Vertical Labret, and Double Cheek Dermal.

Guildmark Location: Left Shoulder (Orange).

Timur Redfox

He is 21 years old (Virgo)

Magic: Transformation Magic, Matter Manipulation

Likes: nature, anti-jokes.

Hobbies: reading, sculpting.

Timur is pansexual (attracted to anyone regardless of gender identity).

Unintentionally insensitive.

Extroverted.

Tries to be responsible, and is responsible! He tends to be overbearing at times.

An amazing singing and instrumental talent.

He claims to have no dignity left in his body and soul, so he is shameless in many ways.

He was born with sharp canines.

Piercings: Vertical Left Eyebrow, Bridge, Septum, Smiley, Snake Bites, Belly Button, and Triple Earlobes.

The sight of blood fuels his determination to defeat an opponent. He turns into a different person.

He draws and writes on his bedroom walls (not in an aesthetic way, like a maniac).

Guildmark Location: Right Shoulder Blade (Blue).

Kieron Fullbuster

He is 19 years old (Sagittarius).

Magic: Water Body, Matter Make

Likes: trying new recipes, sunshine.

Hobbies: baking, star-gazing.

Loyal.

His love languages are Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation.

Being possessive is not something he wants to be, so he works on himself for the betterment of his loved ones.

Warm weather > cold weather.

Time seems to drag longer than it used to. Kieron isn't sure why.

SUPER ticklish!

Low pain tolerance.

He cares for his little sister and prides himself on being an older brother.

Only uses unscented lotions and body soap to maintain his soft and sensitive skin.

Guildmark Location: Left Pectoral (Green).

Raev Fullbuster

She is 12 years old (Aquarius).

Magic: None.

Likes: cold weather, dancing.

Hobbies: people watching, crafting.

Raev is the most respectful child in Fairy Tail.

Her love language is Acts of Service.

She likes to have small talk with strangers (without weirdo vibes).

Juvia, her mother, has had the biggest impact on her life and view on the world that surrounds her.

Sees no real need or motivation to learn magic. She prefers to stay out of danger or risks.

Raev sleeps with a Rain Doll that her father, crudely, made her as a toddler.

Pet Peeve: loud or obnoxious mouth sounds.

Guildmark Location: Right Hand (Blue).

Kay Fernandes

She is 18 years old (Cancer).

Magic: Telekinetic Weaponary, Enchant Magic

Likes: fashion, journaling.

Hobbies: scrapbooking, playing cards.

Super sweet, but also a hardass.

She knows her worth.

LOVES silence or quiet time.

Inherited her mother’s glare.

She braids her hair for a simple go-to hairstyle.

An S-Class mage.

Kay is lesbian (attracted to non-men).

Her favorite memory is when she “won” a “battle” against her mother and father as a young child. It motivated her to become a great mage.

The water fountain in the center of Magnolia is her happy place!

A garden with a variety of flowers, and the occasional edible fruit or vegetable, is in plan after hearing it would make Chimera visit her more often.

HORRIBLE handwriting. Kay tries her best.

Guildmark Location: Right Shoulder (Dark Purple).

Lunaria Dragneel

She is 17 years old (Capricorn).

Magic: Celestial Fire

Likes: sweets, shiny items.

Hobbies: treasure hunting, sparing.

She sleeps in the starfish position (ever since she was a baby).

Stubborn.

A ring of pure gold and jewel accents belonging to her grandfather, Jude, was sold by Lunaria after learning of the mistreatment her mother faced from him.

The attention she receives during her birthday makes her feel conceited and uncomfortable.

Her favorite book is the first, award winning, book her mother wrote.

Her speech is clear and sweet to the ear, despite the foul language she, often, uses.

While her father is on missions, she is an innocent angel with the guild; however, when her mother is away, she is a true carbon copy of her father.

She has stolen the prized crown of Fiore once for a quick ego boost (it did not end well for her).

Guildmark Location: Right Hand (Red).

Ilyana Dreyar

She is 18 years old (Gemini).

Magic: Energy Manipulation

Likes: games, collecting crystals.

Hobbies: hiking, drawing.

Daddy’s Girl.

Socially awkward.

She either doesn’t speak or rambles.

Labeled as a “dumb blonde” (and she DEFINITELY is not).

She plays dumb when convenient (and it works).

Her hairstyle intentionally has “horns” and a “halo”.

Ilyana has a big, fat crush on Timur. She does her best to hide it (and fails).

Such a pretty doll when outside, an average young adult inside her home.

The relationship with her parents is a bit strained since her true colors are shown with them and not others. Her outbursts and mood swings worry her parents.

Any emotionally charged image or video WILL make her cry and sob.

After her great-grandfather's death, Makarov, she felt the pain and anguish her father felt.

She does not know she has a grandfather. Laxus plans on keeping it that way.

Guildmark Location: Left Shoulder Blade (Black).

Viktor Dreyar

He is 13 years old (Leo).

Magic: Healing Magic

Likes: spreading rumors, organizing.

Hobbies: socializing, basketball.

He is much taller than your average pre-teen.

Viktor does know he has a grandfather, yet has no interest in learning more of him. Laxus does not know this.

His favorite holiday is Valentine's Day, because of all the drama and breakups that occur (free entertainment).

His attention has gradually been more fixated on his guildmate and best friend, Lianne.

Tomi, a young bulldog, is his pet. Viktor would risk his life for Tomi.

Surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly, his room is the neatest of the FT Next Gen.

The veins in his body are vibrant and clearly shown on his skin. He was teased for it during grade school.

Guildmark Location: Right Forearm (Brown).

Chimera Strauss

She was born during the Fall, but her favorite season is Spring (despite being allergic to pollen).

Horrified and entranced by the ocean.

Cares about the environment and cringes when someone litters.

Her mother brags that Chimera got her charm and looks from her, meanwhile, her father insists that Chimera got her strength from him.

She loved playing pretend and dressing up with Ilyana when they were kids.

Her bad habit is picking the dead skin off the sides of her nails.

Mourning doves are her favorite animal.

She wears reading glasses when needed.

She is 17 years old (Libra)

Magic: Aera, The Golden Giant

Likes: fruits and berries, stuffed toys.

Hobbies: working out, gardening.

Can be nasty and mean if provoked.

She finds a lot of things cute.

People like to look at her.

She can be described as “the epitome of beauty and grace”.

She is an S-Class mage.

Chimera is bisexual (attracted to two or more gender identities).

Guildmark Location: Right Thigh (White).

Deidre

Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but is an excellent liar excuse maker.

Uses spare time to play with makeup or apply it to her brothers, organizing her jewelry, or appreciating scenic views.

Bonds with her mother by going on mommy-daughter trips.

She HATES finding hair on her tongue and starts to gag and cough for a good while.

She never bickers with her brothers, but does put her foot down when necessary.

Uses fruity scented perfumes.

She also hates animal print fabric and leather items.

She is 16 years old (Aries).

Magic: Mind Control, Telekinesis

Likes: fireflies, playing with makeup.

Hobbies: meditating, cooking.

TOO sweet.

She wishes the best for her enemies.

Can be vain.

She looks at the bright side of things.

Inherited a goddess-like nose (hooked).

Deidre has multiple mirrors in her room

She is AroAce (little to no romantic or sexual attraction).

Guildmark Location: Tongue (Light Blue).

Giacomo

Nasty attitude and softens after a good while of knowing someone (tsundere).

When nervous he bounces his leg and pinches his skin.

Most would state Giacomo has a "punk soul".

He is a stereotypical, moody teenager.

He is so so nosy observant and notes what people do.

Never takes advice from others and regrets it.

Does not like smiling or even being in pictures, but is in them for his parents' sake.

He respects the entities he communicates or interacts with.

He is 15 years old (Scorpio).

Magic: Entity Communication, Possession

Likes: wind chimes, soap operas.

Hobbies: being nosy observing, sleeping.

A severe case of resting bitch face.

Irritable.

He has the same nose as his father (a hooked nose).

Sassy.

He does love his family and Fairy Tail.

Giacomo gets along well with his siblings and cousins, especially Perkeo.

He has a crush on Aneira, but will not admit it.

Guildmark Location: Right Hip (Black).

Perkeo

He is quite the happy and chipper child!

He loves to mess with his father by misplacing items or trying to trick him into doing a chore that Perkeo did not want to do.

100% a Mama's Boy.

He is the "baby" of Fairy Tail, for now, and he relishes every second of it.

He sleeps in a fetal position or on his back (like a mummy).

He never swears in front of his parents.

Has a lisp.

He is 12 years old (Pisces).

Magic: Mimicry

Likes: horror, antique items.

Hobbies: collecting stickers, doing math.

He has a crush on Raev.

Guildmark Location: Right Side of Neck (Dark Blue).

Barnard

He somehow knows every rumor, piece of gossip, and new information before anyone else.

His dreams often lead him to the truth or best ending of a situation.

Socially awkward.

His parents encourage him to be himself.

Does not have close friends, or so he thinks, but he manages to get along with everyone.

Physical touch makes him uncomfortable.

He somehow sees the strangest moments occur within and outside the guild and no one believes him.

He is 17 years old (Cancer).

Magic: Telepathy, Sensory Manipulation

Likes: small spaces, taxidermy.

Hobbies: caring for his insects, collecting insect models.

Keeps to himself.

His love for bugs started as a child.

He deals with constant bed-head.

He works out with his father.

A generally anxious person.

Guildmark Location: Middle of Back (Red).

Lianne Groh

She isn't much of a drinker like her parents. She prefers water or pink lemonade over beer.

She has her grandfather's ex-metal arm in her room, which she stole after Guildarts was given a newer, better arm.

She is calm now, but as a toddler she was trouble at home and in school.

Her room and closet are disorganized enough that she finds items she believed she lost MONTHS later.

For comfort, she goes to her parents (who are emotionally present).

Her first memory is celebrating her fourth birthday surrounded by loved ones.

She is 13 years old (Taurus).

Magic: Trick Items, Reverse Magic

Likes: water, switchblades.

Hobbies: re-organizing her room, going out.

Guildmark Location: Left Ankle (Red).

Aneira Vastia

She is gullible.

Her head is, often, in the clouds.

Speaks three languages: Japanese, English, and Latin.

She is dubbed the most intelligent in her guild (Lamia Scale).

The ability to be evil is in her and no one wants to provoke her.

She does not like being called a liar or dishonest.

Her voice is squeaky and gentle.

Sees Gray Fullbuster like her uncle.

She smells like spearmint.

She is 17 years old.

Magic: Environmental Control, Ice Make

Likes: coffee, ice cream.

Hobbies: learning languages, daydreaming.

Aneira sees past Giacomo’s tough exterior and finds him attractive.

She is in Lamia Scale.

Guildmark Location: Left Hip (Dark Green).

Tiffany Lates

Such a cunt.

She is 17 years old (Aquarius).

Magic: None.

Likes: photography, work.

Hobbies: hosting photoshoots, competitive eating.

She has a romantic interest in Barnard.

Takes candid photos of her guild members, and other mages, to sell them to Sorcerer Weekly.

Math is not her strong suit, but somehow memorized multiple mathematical formulas.

She is in Blue Pegasus.

Guildmark Location: Right Pectoral (Pink).

Gaur Cheney

Emo.

He is 14 years old (Scorpio).

Magic: Palm Magic

Likes: butterflies, music boxes.

Hobbies: practicing tarot, exercising.

Small talk, awkward conversations, and uncomfortable silences are what he dislikes about public gatherings.

He maintains his long, natural nails with manicures.

He is in Sabertooth.

Guildmark Location: Left Arm (White).

Eris Eucliffe

Not emo.

She is 13 years old (Leo).

Magic: Solid Script, Doll Attack

Likes: poetry, dinosaurs.

Hobbies: baseball, origami.

Skin care is important to her, so she does what she can to maintain a healthy glow.

Red is her least favorite color (unless it's the shade of red Gaur’s eyes are).

She is in Sabertooth.

Guildmark Location: Right Forearm (Dark Blue).

MORE HEADCANONS

Gajeel dubbed his children the “Trouble Twins”.

Orsa and Timur sleep with a sleep mask on.

Viktor and Ilyana play video games together (and encourage their parents to join in).

Chimera noted her feelings for Kay before Kay came to the realization of how she felt about Chimera.

Ilyana and Barnard are besties despite not interacting too much; what is awkward silence to others, is comfortable silence with each other.

Ilyana and Tiffany can not stand each other. Tiffany tries to embarrass Ilyana when she can, but fails every time. Ilyana strains a smile when she has to interact with Tiffany.

Nashira and Timur often spar. Sieron watches them from a distance, rooting for Nashira.

Deidre, Chimera, and Ilyana enjoy having sleepovers and talk about their personal lives. It’s a manner of coping and venting about whatever is troubling them.

Laxus is in denial about Ilyana having a crush on Timur, so he often sends Timur away on important missions to keep him away.

Erza worries about her daughter pushing herself too much for the sake of living up to her “Fairy Princess” name. Jellal has similar concerns, but trusts that Kay can come to her senses when necessary, and if not, he will talk and guide her to inner peace.

Natsu loves his daughter to death and has coddled her a bit too much in the past, which led to Lunaria being bratty till she was humbled by Orsa and Chimera (multiple times).

The Redfox twins see Lucy and Juvia like their second mothers, while Pantherlily is seen as their gentle and trustworthy uncle. Jet and Droy are strange, yet kind, family friends.

Milianna has babysat Kay in the past. Kay would be elated whenever Milianna came over to watch over her. Milianna considers Kay dear to her and will protect her no matter the circumstance.

Gaur and Eris are good friends with Viktor, so much so that Viktor shares intel about Fairy Tail without realizing that information should not be shared (and vice versa).

Erik (Cobra) and Kinana love their son, so they show their love through leniency and giving Barnard a lot of freedom, which he doesn’t use much.

Lianne spends her time with her mother at Fairy Tail, but occasionally visits her father in Quarto Cerberus.

Happy tries to be wise with Lunaria, but it is not in his nature, so he ends up encouraging risky behavior.

Timur and Lunaria shared their first kiss with each other (accidental). No one knows about this kiss...yet.

I will come up with more headcanons! Please give me time to think of more OR please share your ideas with me!

#fairy tail #fairy tail next generation #ftng #fairy tail kids #ftnextgen #elfever #gajevy #bixanna #nalu #gruvia #miraxus #stingyu #roguerva #baccana #kinabra #hibikenny #f4erienotk4t #ocs

[theroseandthebeast]

Yuletide Recs, Batch Three

16 recs for The Eagle, Earthsea, Emma., The Expanse, The Faculty, The Fall of the House of Usher, Fallen London, The Green Knight, The Handmaiden, Jane Eyre, King Arthur: Legend of the Sword, and The Matrix

Between Two Rivers, Marcus Flavius Aquila & Esca Mac Cunoval

Two rivers. Two near kisses.

The White Ladies of the Ring, Penthe/Tenar

There was a sorcerer imprisoned in the Labyrinth, and Arha had told Kossil that she would kill him—but she did not want to. Perhaps she needed to ask someone for help...

My Queen Bee, George Knightley/Emma Woodhouse

Emma went on, brightly, “I have spoken with Harriet about it.” George blinked. He was fast losing his grip on this conversation. 

We aren't righteous (or: five times Amos did as Naomi asked, and one time he didn't.), Gen, Amos Burton & Naomi Nagata

For EdosianOrchids901 for Yuletide, who asked for Amos and Naomi and suggested something pre-canon, something about that dynamic where he sees her as an external moral compass, and how their friendship developed. This is mostly pre-canon, overlapping with canon in the last two parts. (Also it's been a while since I've seen this so apologies in advance if I've missed something in research and inadvertently contradicted canon on their immediate pre-canon backstories!)

Pyriscence, Gen, Amos Burton & Praxidike Meng

After the war with the Free Navy, Amos comes to see Prax.

What do you do when you survive a shape-shifting mind-controlling alien as a teen?, Stokely Mitchell/Stan Rosado

Twenty years later, Stokely and Stan arrive back in each other's lives.

the miraculous lustre of her eye, Madeline Usher/Verna

"If she wants Madeline fucking Usher, she's going to have to look me straight in the eyes."

a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime, Gen, Verna + Arthur Pym

Arthur Pym's first meeting with Verna.

The Margin, Gen, Verna + Arthur Pym

“We have to go back,” Arthur Pym said, teeth rattling in the wind. He clutched the ragged edges of his coat closer. “Ship can’t break through that ice. We’ll founder.” -- The first time Verna and Arthur met, on the Transglobe Expedition.

by such dreaming high, Gen, The Duchess + The Roseate Queen

It is summer, in a fallen city; and someone, somewhere, is doing something unwise...

The Half-Seen Door, Gen, Piranesi | Matthew Rose Sorensen + Sixteen | Sarah Raphael + Gawain

It’s a hard job, coming home.

leverage and its utility, Fujiwara + Original Female Character(s)

The three he smoked in the carriage ride here was nothing but a gamble. A roll of the die, a flip of a coin, a dealing of cards. Lucky for him, luck is in his favor.

lilacs out of the dead land, Jane Eyre/Edward Rochester

I had, within me, that rich world of imagination that I could always retreat to, and so I transformed myself.

All Earthly Happiness, Jane Eyre/Edward Rochester

Reader, I lied. Or, rather, I omitted. As the mother of daughters, who had openly declared their intentions of reading my autobiography, I was hesitant to paint a full picture of the course of my first engagement to my dear Edward. Although in many ways it did progress much as I described, discretion prevented absolute disclosure

When It's Worth It, Gen, Arthur + The Mage

The chilly air tasted of dust and lightning strikes and the faint iron tang of blood, and there were still all too many questions lingering unanswered.

dissolved girl, Neo/Trinity

What if Trinity came back wrong? A post-Matrix Resurrections fic about what happens if the body was rebuilt again, and again, and again, and in the remaking, became something new.

#yuletide #yuletide 2023 #the eagle #earthsea #emma #emma. #the expanse #the faculty #the fall of the house of usher #fallen london #the green knight #the handmaiden #jane eyre #king arthur #king arthur legend of the sword #the matrix

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Beyond the Lights, Pt 2

Over the next few days, Lena's team does damage control. She's peddled out to the major talkshows to apologize to her young fans, lest they get the wrong impression of her. Through it all, Lena is alone, save for the opressing weight of her mother's presence.

Meanwhile, Kara's fellow officers tease her relentlessly. They adorn her with heroic nicknames and paper her locker with magazine covers of Lena posing provocatively. She does her best to brush it off with an awkward laugh, but it doesn't feel right to make light of what happened. It sits heavy on her heart and mind, especially when her precinct chief proposes to the commissioner that Kara become something of a poster girl for the police department, and capitalize off the good press generated by the incident.

Unable to banish Lena from her mind, Kara goes back to the hotel to try and meet with the woman she rescued. She's denied at every turn, and is at the curb waiting for the valet in defeat when a lilting voice greets her from behind.

"I heard you were looking for me."

Kara turns and sees Lena standing tall in impossibly high stilettos, dress slinky and ponytail tight. Green eyes gaze at her from beneath smoky lids, and this time her features are gentle, almost playful.

"Uh, yeah," Kara stammers. "I just-- I wanted to apologize for what I said to you at the press conference. You didn't deserve that."

She half expects the frosty countenance to make a reappearance, but to her surprise Lena's gaze seems to soften further. "I'm sorry you had to lie."

Kara smiles. "Well, technically I didn't. I mean-- I didn't tell the truth, exactly, but I didn't lie."

"Ah."

Lillian appears at that moment, stony and impatient. "We're late, Lena."

"I know, just-- one minute?"

"Lena--"

"Please, Mother?"

Kara's surprised by the formality, and the fact that Lena seems to truly be asking permission. Luckily, Lillian decides it's not a fight worth having, and stalks off to a waiting SUV.

Before Kara can count it as a win, however, the valet chooses that moment to finally pull up with Kara's truck. Kara's smiles regretfully. "That's me."

She hesitates, lingers as long as she dares. Lena is looking at her now, in a way that makes Kara feel like her belly is on fire. Her heart is beating loudly even under the clamor of the paparazzi, and only gets faster when Lena doesn't make a move to leave either.

"You busy?" Lena asks, taking Kara by surprise.

Before Kara can answer, Lena moves towards the truck's passenger door, giving Kara scant moments to catch on and catch up. The cameras snap wildly as Kara jogs around to the drivers seat and peels out, leaving the flashing lights and a furious Lillian in the rearview mirror.

Once they're free of the chaos, Kara turns her head towards her unexpected, but not unwelcome passenger. "So, what did you have in mind?"

Lena gives her a devilish grin that makes Kara's heart skip a beat. "How about we swing by my favorite fast food joint and stuff our faces?"

Kara laughs. "Sounds perfect."

---

"Well, look at that-- this is my favorite too."

Over two jumbo comb meals from Big Belly Burger, Kara eases into conversation. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," Lena quips around the straw of her diet coke. "Well, maybe not, since it's amazing-- should be everyone's favorite."

"True that."

As their conversation continues, Kara can't help but notice that while their words are gentle, they remain superficial. Skimming the surface, even when Kara broaches the subject of Lena's career.

"What's it like? Being on stage, performing for millions of people?"

"It's the greatest rush you could ever imagine. I honestly can't get enough of it."

Kara's ability to read people fails her a second time-- she can't tell if Lena is telling the truth or not.

The night comes screeching to a halt, however, when Lena finds the business card of a reporter in Kara's console-- something shoved into her hand that she hasn't had a chance to throw away. Looking at it, Lena softly scoffs.

"Of course."

"I didn't tell them anything--"

Lena shakes her head, completely uninterested. "Just drive," she instructs. She rattles off an address, and Kara takes her there. To her surprise, however, Lena invites her in when they stop outside a luxe modern mansion.

Inside the place is empty, bearing signs of recent renovation. It's clear no one lives there.

"New place?" Kara asks, breaking the silence between them.

"The opposite, actually. Bought it as soon as we moved out to the west coast." When she sees Kara's surprise, Lena shrugs. "I've been working ever since."

Kara looks at her. "When was your last vacation?"

Lena huffs bitterly. "Vacations are for people with nowhere to go."

Not knowing what to say to that, and unwilling to show the pity that fills her upon hearing the words, Kara gestures awkwardly towards the door. "I should, ah-- go."

"I know you won't talk to that reporter."

Kara blinks. "What?" Then, "what makes you so sure?"

Lena closes the distance between them, standing perilously close. "Because I see you too."

She leans in for a kiss, and Kara meets her halfway. The moment their lips meet Kara's stomach swoops, her heart picking up pace once again. After a moment, Lena's hands lift to bury their fingers in Kara's hair, sending prickles of electricity throughout her entire body.

When they part, Kara is pleased to see that Lena is slightly out of breath as well.

A small smile curls Lena's lips as she steps back. "Good night, Officer Danvers."

Kara swallows self-consciously, but can't help the grin that spreads across her face (which she's sure is the goofy one Alex always teases her for).

"Good night, Lena. Take care."

With that, Kara takes her leave. And if Lena sees the extra bounce in her step as she descends the stairs to the front door, she doesn't say a word.

#supercorp #beyond the lights au

[goddess1111sblog]

I came across this cool success story on reddit by u/celestial-form. It is worth a read.❤️

A long success story

Here is the summary of my wonderful experience of consciously visualizing myself into a drama that later materialized.

I was 11 years old, living in Tehran, Iran, my birthplace. I was a very strange child with an abstract, sort of a metaphysical mind. I was very perceptive and questioned every area of life. One day I was observing my life and suddenly came to the conclusion that I don’t like my life. I didn’t like the country I lived in, I didn’t relate to the culture and I knew I couldn't thrive there. As I was a very imaginative child I told myself, what if I can escape this reality in my imagination?

The same night I lay down and before sleep, I decided to experience what it would be like If I lived in a different country and went to school there. As I am laying down I hold steadfast to the joy I would feel if I actually lived somewhere else. I couldn’t specify the country but i could specify the wonderful feeling of ahh, my wish has finally come true.

I resided in that feeling, and I even remember my attention wandering off into randomness but I brought it back and again held it steadfastly on the wonderful feeling of my desire being my reality. I dropped into sleep while holding the feeling and I found myself in a vivid dream (imaginal act). I was sitting in a classroom, there were black people and blonde people, and girls and boys were sitting in the same room (this doesn’t happen in Iran). I was sitting in the last row of the class on the right end of the room and I was observing my classmates. Suddenly I had an overpowering feeling that “omg, I live here, this is my classroom, this is my home.” and I had a feeling of certainty that this is a different country from my hometown. The dream was so intense and vivid that when I woke up I had to take a moment to realize that was a dream. I was so certain that I was living there with all of my being until I awoke and realized it was just a dream and I was terribly disappointed that it was all a dream, I nearly wanted to cry.

Fast-forwarding to age 12, my cousin from Germany calls to ask my Mom if she’d be interested in applying for the DV lottery program for a chance to win a U.S. green card. She said oh it must be a scam but if it’s free we will apply. So, all of us 3 members of the family applied and let it go. My mom kept saying oh this is probably fake, nothing is gonna happen. But since it was free she thought well we don’t have much to lose.

Next year comes and we get a phone call from my cousin in Germany. “I have good news and bad news,” she says what is it. K (me) has won the lottery but you can’t go with her because she’s a kid. If you had won you could take the entire family and kids under the age of 21. My mom was excited but also disappointed. She said well it’s ok, we’ll send her alone so she can finish her high school and college there.

Fast-forwarding again, a year passes and my family applies for the lottery again in hopes that they might win. And surely, my mom wins just a year after I had won. I was prepared to go to the U.S. alone, I had an interview appointment at the U.S. embassy in the UAE but we had to cancel it because now that my mom has won, she can take her 13-year-old child with her. So, exactly this happens. We go to the embassy and my mom and I get an American Visa added to our Iranian passports. they said once we enter the U.S. they will send us a permanent resident card in the mail.

So, I come to the U.S. with my newly divorced mother. I spoke English fluently almost with no accent. I am now 15 years old and entered my sophomore year in high school. One day I am sitting in my world history class, in the back of the room on the far right end row and I’m observing the room when suddenly I feel, “I have been here before.” I was sitting in the same exact spot I sat in and some of my classmates had blonde hair and others were black which is something I could never have in Iran.

I just want to point out, that at the age of 11 I had no access to Neville's teachings, I didn’t consciously know what I was doing, I just intended to escape my life in my imagination and I did it at night before sleep and I intensely focused on it because I was so deeply in love with the idea of living in a different country. I didn’t think about what country or even what it would look like, I only resided in the wonderful feeling that my wish is true and I held the feeling so intensely that I fell asleep to it and my subconscious mind put me in the exact drama that would resemble the feeling as completely true. My subconscious dreamed the scene automatically. I didn’t pick it.

Another point is, after that, I always had a sure feeling in my heart that one day I will live in a foreign land, even a psychic had told my mom that she sees suitcases packed and we are leaving the country. I was 12 at that time. my mother thought she was talking nonsense.

From the story that I have shared here, you may be able to tell that I personally nor my mom didn’t lift a finger to make it happen. It all came to us, my cousin offered to fill out the application for us, and she did everything. And my mom kept consciously doubting, she said it will never happen, this is a scam and such words but my subconscious conviction and imagination were far more powerful than the doubts of the conscious mind (i personally didn't think it's gonna happen either, I just had a feeling one day I'll live elsewhere. When we actually won it felt like a miracle. My parents were in the middle of a divorce, they sold the house and all our stuff, I and my mom moved in with my grandparents and suddenly we had good news about moving to the U.S. and everything was at the perfect time. I can even say, it was mathematically perfect timing and the orchestration was done so smoothly and effortlessly. like, an extremely fine work of drama.

I moved to the U.S. at the age of 15, which is 4 years after the visualization experience. Now, I am 24 and received my American passport 4 years ago. Since age 22 I have been consciously manifesting and using the law. Before that, I didn’t have any practice or technique that would allow me to “direct” the law. I manifested a 7 figure business and healed my shoulder injury all from the state of being half asleep. From the drowsy state between complete sleep and wakefulness.

The last thing I want to add is that you want to replace your feeling of attachment to an idea with the feeling of conviction and certainty that it is already done. It is the present reality. Instead of the worry feeling of “what if it doesn’t come true?” reside in the feeling of, “ahh, how wonderful that I am this…”.

It is truly about changing your concept of yourself. Even when you worry and have anxiety around your life you are still in the center of the universe with the divine. And always remember that you have these wonderful capacities because you are God’s child. As he said “yee are made in his image.” that means, the wonderful mind of the creator of this wonderful drama of a universe resides within you. Therefore as he dreams, you can dream too. It’s just about controlling your mind and feeling. And remember, the cause of all our suffering is that we have lost touch with our true Self which is one with the Lord of the universe.

Take this affirmation with you:

“I know that God’s power is limitless; and as I am made in His image, I, too, have the strength to overcome all obstacles.”

and, always, always, always, focus on the feeling of the wish fulfilled before falling asleep.

Here's the link if you wanna read it on the app :- 🔗🔗🔗

#law of assumption #neville goddard #loa #manifestation advice #manifest #sp manifest #111talks #affirmation #self concept #manifestations #reddit

[lya-dustin]

All is Bliss

Chapter 46

Cw:casual misogyny, slutshaming, doubke standards and poison

Gif by @alicentloyalist

Taglist:@mercedesdecorazon @darylandbethfanforever9 @sweethoneyblossom1 @alexandria-millie @ewanmitchellcrumbs @watercolorskyy

Aemma was seven moons along when word of Harrenhal being retaken and sightings of Caraxes near the Saltpans had been reported to Aemond.

Replenished with men and supplies the westerners and riverlords decided that instead of going home with their dead and infirm, they would fight on.

Apparently Aemond and Criston are butting heads over this, Criston wants to march and regain what the greens lost while Aemond would rather fortify what they still have in case Daemon includes Nettles and Addam in his next attack.

That was a month ago, Aemma had not heard from him and neither had anyone else. No raven has come since Harrenhal had gone back to green hands. Although Seasmoke had been spotted heading south, towards Tumbleton where the greens won the day thanks to the two betrayers.

A suicide mission, one worse than Aemond’s.

Why in seventh hell would sensible and loyal Addam do such a thing is beyond her. Addam had far too much sense to abscond with his half-sister with their dragons across the Narrow Sea and yet he is going into Tumbleton where it has literally descended into anarchy because apparently loving murder, raping and pillaging is something the greens have in common with Hugh Hammer and Ulf White.

“The way men think with their cocks never ceases to amaze me.” Jena said as they played a card game in her rooms.

Aemma’s confinement had begun a moon ago, most women only left public life in the last two moons, but given her mother died in her seventh moon it was better to be safe than sorry.

As much as she hated it, she understood the necessity of it and tried her best to be a model patient.

Even if the sight of the birthing stool unnerved her and the young queen demanded it be covered with linen so she could pretend it wasn’t there.

“They act as if they didn’t hide from my father until someone with a bigger dragon came.” Baela snorted. “By the way is my betrothed in that losing fight or the other one?”

“Robert Rowan was captured, and his father turned to Aegon’s side, he won’t be in any more losing fights except maybe the one with Prince Jacaerys’ ghost.” Jena answered with a chuckle.

She was their window to the outside world, thank the gods Ironrod trusted her with his life.

Robert was a good and strong looking man; his great aunt had been Harwin’s mama and gave him a resemblance to Jace. If Jace had been allowed to grow broader and had thick curly hair and could lift an ox cart with ease, that is.

A good replacement, Aegon had said when he shot down the suggestion Baela be wed to his widowed father instead.

“I wish I could know if he is worth marrying, Aegon seemed nice enough and look what you’re stuck with.” Baela said tossing her cards after getting a bad hand.

Speaking of Aegon and their marriage, it had improved now that his cock doesn’t work.

He is actually trying to know her as a person and not a bedmate he must breed out of duty.

And because it is the least Aemma could do, she has found he is not as terrible as initially thought.

He has committed his fair share of atrocities, but it seems to have stemmed from never having faced any real consequence in his life.

Until now that the gods cursed him with impotence and an indifferent wife that is.

Aemma never thought she might face the issue of actually liking her husband. Made her secret marriage to his younger brother all the more dangerous. Really, the world had fucking mad.

“Agreed, if only there was a way you could try it all first. Like getting to ride a horse before you purchase it.” the young queen said, taking a card from the deck. Her hand is quite modest, but even with a winning hand Jena would mop the floor with them.

“Only if you ride this horse, you get branded a whore and, in some lands, fucking stoned to death for it.” Jena points out reminding Baela not to get any ideas. “If you wish to know what sort of man he is, we weasel it out of his household and former paramours, lucky for you, I know just the slut.”

“Please tell me that slut is you.” Baela looks far too intrigued by Jena’s stories.

It is not.

Aemma should not be surprised she means Alys Rivers.

“You summoned me, your grace.” The witch comes just as Aegon goes to have lunch with his mother to go after her taking over court duties while she is in confinement.

Once Alicent would have been overjoyed at the prospect of Aegon and Aemma getting along. Back when everything hinged on them being happy and in love so they could take Rhaenyra’s claim through her only trueborn child.

“Did you know she gets a rash from dandelions like I do?” Aegon mentions as he eats enough macaroni for two. Just as Laenor did, he shares the cravings with his wife even if the child is clearly not his, a small consolation.

“Yes, I remember from the instructions sent by the maester for the wedding feast.” Alicent answered, hoping her tone was enough to get him to stop talking about his wife.

He is besotted with her, the traitorous whore who took two sons from her and killed the third.

To think she had once felt sorry for her, that she had seen herself reflected in her and wished her success only to have her kindness thrown back at her with her defiance.

Gods, she should have just given her dandelion tea the moment Criston brought her here. Aemond was Aegon’s heir anyways, there was no true need for Aemma to live when Criston’s strategy failed.

“Have there been any ravens from your brother?” she asks knowing the answer to it.

Her sullen little boy was dead already, she could feel it in her bones.

Dead because of Rhaenyra. Rhaenyra was not content with all that she had taken from her and lived to torment her through her daughter.

“No, none. We have sent some riders, but there has been no ravens nor news since they arrived at the Crossroads.” Aegon’s face turned serious, defeat was tasted in the air and would come soon. He had cut back on his drinking and yet this news had him return to his old habits. “The Blacks are closing in on the God’s Eye, the North is marching south with Lord Stark, who’s uncle tried to usurp him as you had me usurp my sister, by the way. Oh, and the Arryns hired a fucking fleet from Braavos because Jeyne Arryn had her cousins and uncles try to usurp her as well, and even if she hates Daemon, she hates us more for killing her fucking cousins.”

Alicent never thought he would have the audacity to blame her for this.

“I have done everything for you, do not dare be ungrateful to your mother.” Alicent warned her son and yet he did not stop.

Didn’t stop drinking nor speaking these things that told her he would send her away the moment the whore gave birth to the blasted son she made happen.

“For me?!” he laughed incredulously, tossing his fork on the plate and getting his cane to leave, “For me?! Oh, mama, you wanted this crown, not me.”

“I only wanted to protect you, to keep you safe from your sister and her beast of a husband. I could only save you if I gave you the crown that was yours by rights.” The queen argued with him.

Why were they so blind? Why did they think her the monster when she killed those monsters for them?

She made deals with the Stranger and sold her soul for him; how could he be so blind to all she sacrificed for him?

“I was fucking fine with Rhaenyra being queen and Aemma after her. I know damn well I was not meant to be king; father knew that. We were safe from her because she’d never hurt her own child nor her grandchildren nor her own brothers and sister even after Driftmark, that is why father wed me to Aemma, to protect us after his death.” He idolizes Viserys now, pretends his father loved him and cared for him when the man stopped paying attention to him the moment Rhaenyra became with child. “The ones who put us in danger were you and grandfather. Now Daeron and Aemond are probably fucking dead, your father rots in hell as he deserved, and I am a fucking eunuch who needs his brother to fornicate with my wife so you could keep the power you envied Rhaenyra for having.

The least you can do now, is stop pretending you did all this for us.”

She lost him, she’s lost her son to someone worse than Rhaenyra’s whore daughter.

Alicent lost Aegon to the ghost of the man who took her innocence and her youth and her joy of living.

And it breaks her heart.

“Get out.” The queen turns away and bit back her tears as her golden son hobbles away. “You think me the monster in this story, and I suppose I am no longer your mother.”

And yet when her son vomits the wine in the hall, Alicent, in her mother’s worry, is the first to come to his aid.

“Mother’s here, sweetling. Mama’s here.” She says as he continues to spew the wine until he loses consciousness.

Poison.

Someone poisoned her son.

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #aemond targaryen x oc #aegon ii x oc #aegon ii x oc x aemond #all is bliss (in the court of aemma the great) #all is bliss fic

[geekgemsspooksandtoons]

Okay, spoilers for Marvel's Spider-Man 2 to my followers who haven't played the game or if you don't mind. I'm going to...vent in a sense or suggest a crazy idea because I want to talk about this.

Despite the fact they would have to rehaul the game's story.

I still don't like Harry as Venom. But I swear, if the developers had to somehow really tie Eddie into it without making it overcomplicated. Even if this idea seems crazy. Here's this idea they could've done.

Take out the hints and mentions of Eddie from the first two games. Mainly Eddie's name on that one card here.

If the developers are Hell bent on the idea of Harry being Venom. Here's what they could've done. They could've done this story where Harry as he's had the symbiote off for a while. As he's remembering his mother. He somehow finds out he isn't actually an Osborn; he was actually adopted. His real name is actually Edward Brock. But his name was changed to Harry after his birth father straight up abandoned him. Including learning his birth mother died giving birth to him.

Norman and Emily were going to one day tell Harry he was adopted. But when Emily died, Norman essentially forgot and decided it wasn't worth telling Harry. Because Harry developed the same sort of disease which we are going to call it "Cancer" and take elements from Eddie Brock's later years as a character. This information distraught Harry. Along with everything else around him going wrong.

He's slowly dying, his best friend isn't giving back the symbiote, the Emily May Foundation is destroyed, he doesn't feel like he's good enough for his father. And one of the worst things he's now discovered is that his "Mother" who he idolized wasn't actually his mother. And his birth father actually abandoned him to die.

When getting the symbiote back, all that anger built up, he seeks to "Heal the world" in his own way. But killing the ones who have wronged him and others. Yet also, to protect the innocent from those. Possibly any surviving villains that Kraven had not killed. And keep Kraven alive towards the end. Venom is killing villains that should've survived till later, hunters, cultists and whoever else.

Harry or Eddie in this case has become the "Venom" to all those people that needed to be punished. As "Venom" has been used in medicine sometimes to treat pain and other sorts of things that people have talked about.

Maybe you can still have the symbiote invasion stuff. But I'm not sure about that. Because while it's visually awesome and cool to play. I feel it doesn't fully fit the story or it becomes...less personal in a sense. And taking elements from Donny Cate's Venom run without putting in the substance. And sadly, not paying him any royalties too.

And let me be honest. This honestly sounds SO MUCH WORSE if they went with this. It sounds like a bastardized amalgamation of Harry and Eddie. It's much better when these two are separate characters. Especially Harry's time as the Green Goblin which I know they're building that character up with Norman. Yet Insomniac pretty much screwed up Venom. Even if they were to make that Venom game with Eddie in it.

Also, despite how much I love Kraven in the game. I feel like they could've maybe used Sin Eater in this game if we're going to have Venom but...that's a whole other discussion.

#geekgem rambles #marvel's spider-man 2 #venom #eddie brock #harry osborn

[96harmony96]

Chapter 12

Lauren and I arrived back in Manhattan just before midnight on Sunday. We’d spent the previous night sleeping apart, but most of the day together in the master bed. Kissing and touching. Laughing and whispering.

By silent agreement we didn’t talk about painful things during the rest of our time away. We didn’t turn on the television or radio, because it seemed wrong to share our time with anyone. We walked on the beach again. We made long, slow, lazy love on the third-story deck. We played cards and she won every hand. We recharged and reminded ourselves that what we’d found with each other was worth fighting for.

It was the most perfect day of my life.

We returned to my apartment when we got back into the city. Lauren unlocked the door for us with the key I’d given her, and we entered the darkened space as quietly as possible so that we didn’t wake Cary. Lauren gave me one of her soul-melting kisses good night and headed to the guest room, and I crawled into my lonely bed without her. Missing her. I wondered how long we’d be sleeping apart from each other. Months? Years?

Hating to think of it, I closed my eyes and started to drift.

The light flicked on.

“Camila. Get up.” Lauren strode into the room and straight to my dresser, digging through my clothes.

I blinked at her, noting that she’d changed into slacks and a button-down dress shirt. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Cary,” she said grimly. “He’s in the hospital.”

* * *

 A cab was waiting for us at the curb when we left my apartment building. Lauren ushered me in, then slid in beside me.

The cab seemed to pull away very slowly. Everything seemed to be moving slowly.

I clutched at Lauren’s sleeve. “What happened?”

“He was attacked Friday night.”

“How do you know?”

“Your mother and Stanton both left messages on my cell phone.”

“My mother . . . ?” I looked at her blankly. “Why didn’t she . . . ?”

No, she couldn’t call me. I hadn’t had my phone. Guilt and worry drowned me, making it hard to breathe.

“Camila.” She put her arm around my shoulders, urging me to rest my head against her. “Don’t worry until we know more.”

“It’s been days, Lauren. And I wasn’t here.”

Tears poured down my face and wouldn’t stop, even after we arrived at the hospital. I barely registered the exterior of the building, my attention dulled by the hard-driving anxiety pounding through me. I thanked God for Lauren, who was so calm and in control. A staff member provided the number of Cary’s room, but his helpfulness ended there. Lauren made a few middle-of-the-night phone calls that got me access to see Cary, even though it was well outside visiting hours. Lauren had been a very generous benefactor at times and that wasn’t easily dismissed or forgotten.

When I stepped into Cary’s private room and saw him, my heart shattered so completely, my knees went weak. Only Lauren kept me from falling. The man I thought of as my brother, the best friend I’d ever had or ever would have, lay silent and unmoving in the bed. His head was bandaged and his eyes blackened. One of his arms was stuck with intravenous lines, while the other was in a cast. I wouldn’t have recognized him, if I hadn’t known who he was.

Flowers covered every flat surface, cheerful and colorful bouquets. There were balloons, too, and a few cards. I knew some would be from my mother and Stanton, who were certainly paying for Cary’s care as well.

We were his family. And everyone had been there for him but me.

Lauren led me closer, her arm tight around my waist to hold me up. I was sobbing, the tears flowing thick and hot. It was everything I could do to remain silent.

Still, Cary must have heard me or sensed me. His eyelids fluttered, then opened. His beautiful green eyes were bloodshot and unfocused. It took him a minute to find me. When he did, he blinked a few times, and then tears started rolling down his temples.

“Cary.” I rushed to him and slipped my hand in his. “I’m here.”

He gripped me so tightly, it was painful. “Camila.”

“I’m sorry I took so long. I didn’t have my phone. I had no idea. I would’ve been here if I’d known.”

“S’okay. You’re here now.” His throat worked on a swallow. “God . . . everything hurts.”

“I’ll get a nurse,” Lauren said, running her hand down my back before slipping silently out of the room.

I saw a small pitcher and cup with straw on the rolling tray table. “Are you thirsty?”

“Very.”

“Can I sit you up? Or no?” I was afraid to do anything to cause him pain.

“Yeah.”

Using the remote lying near his hand, I raised the top part of the bed so that he was reclined. Then I brought the straw to his lips and watched him drink greedily.

He relaxed with a sigh. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, baby girl.”

“What the hell happened?” I set the empty cup down and grabbed his hand again.

“Fuck if I know.” His voice was weak, almost a whisper. “Got jumped. With a bat.”

“With a bat?” Just the thought made me physically ill. The brutality of it. The violence . . . “Was he insane?”

“Of course,” he snapped, a deep line of pain between his brows.

I backed up a half step. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t. Shit. I’m—” His eyes closed. “I’m exhausted.”

Just then the nurse came in wearing scrubs decorated with cartoon tongue depressors and animated stethoscopes. She was young and pretty, with dark hair and sloe eyes. She checked Cary over, took his blood pressure, then pressed the button on a remote wrapped around the guardrail.

“You can self-administer every thirty minutes for pain,” she told him. “Just press this button. It won’t dispense a dose if it’s not time, so you don’t have to worry about pressing it too often.”

“Once is too often,” he muttered, looking at me.

I understood his reluctance; he had an addictive personality. He’d traveled a short ways down the junkie road before I kicked some sense into him.

But it was a relief to see the lines of pain on his forehead smooth out and his breathing settle into a deeper rhythm.

The nurse looked at me. “He needs his rest. You should come back during visiting hours.”

Cary looked at me desperately. “Don’t go.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Lauren said, reentering the room. “I’ve arranged to have a cot brought in tonight.”

I didn’t think it was possible to love Lauren more than I already did, but she somehow kept finding ways to prove me wrong.

The nurse smiled shyly at Lauren.

“Cary could use more water,” I told her, watching her pull her gaze reluctantly away from my girlfriend to look at me.

She grabbed the pitcher and left the room.

Lauren stepped closer to the bed and spoke to Cary. “Tell me what happened.”

Cary sighed. “Trey and I went out Friday, but he had to bail early. I walked him out to grab a cab, but it was nuts right in front of the club, so we went around the corner. He’d just taken off when I got nailed in the back of the head. Took me straight down and whaled on me a few times. Never got a chance to defend myself.”

My hands began to shake, and Cary’s thumb rubbed soothingly over the back.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Teaches me. Don’t stick my dick in the wrong chick.”

“What?”

I watched Cary’s eyes drift shut, and a moment later it was clear he was sleeping. I glanced helplessly across the bed at Lauren.

“I’ll look into it,” she said. “Step out with me for a minute.”

I followed her, my gaze repeatedly turning back to Cary. When the door closed behind us, I said, “God, Lauren. He looks terrible.”

“He got knocked around good,” she said grimly. “He’s got a skull fracture, a nasty concussion, three cracked ribs, and a broken arm.”

The list of injuries was horribly painful to listen to. “I don’t understand why someone would do this.”

She pulled me close and pressed her lips to my forehead. “The doctor said it’s possible Cary will be allowed to leave in a day or two, so I’ll make arrangements for home care. I’ll also let your work know you won’t be coming in.”

“Cary’s agency needs to know.”

“I’ll see to it.”

“Thank you.” I hugged her hard. “What would I do without you?”

“You’re never going to find out.”

* * *

 My mother woke me at nine the next morning, gliding fretfully into Cary’s room as soon as visiting hours began. She pulled me out to the hallway, drawing the attention of everyone in the immediate area. It was early, but she looked amazing in eye-catching red-soled Louboutins and an ivory sleeveless sheath dress.

“Camila. I can’t believe you went the entire weekend without your cell phone! What were you thinking? What if there had been an emergency?”

“There was an emergency.”

“Exactly!” She threw up one hand, since the other arm had her clutch tucked beneath it. “No one could get hold of you or Lauren. She left a message saying that she was taking you away for the weekend, but no one knew where you were. I can’t believe she was so irresponsible! What was she thinking?”

“Thank you,” I interjectedes because she was getting wound up and repeating herself, “for taking care of Cary. It means a lot to me.”

“Well, of course.” My mother took it down a notch. “We love him, too, you know. I’m devastated this happened.”

Her lower lip trembled and she dug in her bag for her ever-ready handkerchief.

“Are the police investigating?” I asked.

“Yes, of course, but I don’t how much good it will do.” She dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I love Cary dearly, but he’s a tramp. I doubt he can recall all the women and men he’s been with. Remember the charity auction you attended with Lauren? When I bought you that stunning red dress?”

“Yes.” I’d never forget it. It was the night Lauren and I first made love.

“I’m certain Cary slept with a blonde he danced with that night—while they were there! They disappeared and when they came back . . . Well, I know what a satisfied man looks like. I would be surprised if he knew her name.”

I remembered what Cary had said before he fell asleep. “You think this attack has something to do with someone he slept with?”

My mother blinked at me, seeming to remember that I didn’t know anything. “Cary was told to keep his hands off ‘her’—whoever ‘her’ is. The detectives will be coming back later today to try to pull some names out of him.”

“Jesus.” I scrubbed at my eyes, needing my face wash badly and a cup of coffee even more. “They need to talk to Tatiana Cherlin.”

“Who’s that?”

“Someone Cary’s been seeing. I think she’d get a kick out of something like this. Cary’s boyfriend caught them together and she ate it up with a spoon. She loved being the cause of the drama.”

I rubbed at the back of my neck, then realized the tingle I felt was for another reason entirely. I looked over my shoulder and saw Lauren approaching, her long legs closing the distance between us with that measured stride. Dressed for work in a suit, with a large cup of coffee in one hand and a small black bag in the other, she was exactly what I needed at just the moment I needed her.

“Excuse me.” I walked toward Lauren and straight into her arms.

“Hey,” she greeted me, with her lips in my hair. “How are you holding up?”

“It’s awful. And senseless.” My eyes burned. “He didn’t need another disaster in his life. He’s had more than his share.”

“So have you, and you’re suffering along with him.”

“And you’re doing the same with me.” I pushed up onto my tiptoes and kissed her jaw, then stepped back. “Thank you.”

She handed me the coffee. “I brought some things for you—a change of clothes, your cell and tablet, bathroom stuff.”

I knew her thoughtfulness had to come at a price—literally. After a weekend away, she should be digging her way out of a small mountain of work worth millions, not running around taking care of me. “God. I love you.”

“Camila!” My mother’s startled exclamation made me wince. She advocated withholding the words I love you until the wedding night.

“Sorry, Mom. Can’t help it.”

Lauren brushed coffee-warmed fingertips down my cheek.

“Lauren,” my mother began, coming up right beside us, “you should know better than to take Camila away without any means of calling for help. You do know better.”

She was clearly referring to my past. I wasn’t sure why she thought I was so delicate that I couldn’t function on my own. She was far more fragile.

I shot a sympathetic glance Lauren’s way.

She held out the bag she’d brought for me, the calm and confident look on her face conveying her total comfort in dealing with my mother. So I left her to it. I didn’t have it in me to deal with her until I’d caffeinated myself.

I slipped back into Cary’s room and found him awake. Just the sight of him made the tears well and my throat close up tight. He was such a strong and vibrant man, so full of life and mischief. It was the worst pain to see him looking so broken.

“Hey,” he muttered. “Quit the waterworks every time you see me. Makes me feel like I’m gonna die or something.”

Hell. He was right. My tears didn’t do him any good. Instead, what little relief they gave me just put more of the burden on him. I needed to be a better friend than that.

“I can’t help it,” I said, sniffling. “It sucks. Someone beat me to it and kicked your ass before I could.”

“Is that right?” His scowl faded. “What’d I do now?”

“You didn’t tell me about Brett and Six-Ninths.”

“Oh yeah . . .” A bit of his old sparkle came back into his eyes. “How’d he look?”

“Good. Really good.” Very hot, but I kept that thought to myself. “Although right now, he might not look much better than you.”

I told him about the kiss and the resulting fight.

“Jauregui threw down, huh?” Cary shook his head, then winced and stopped. “Taking on Brett took guts—he’s a barroom brawler who loves a good fight.”

“And Lauren is a trained mixed martial artist.” I began digging through the bag Lauren had brought. “Why didn’t you tell me Captive Soul had signed with a major label?”

“Because you didn’t need to fall into that hole again. There are girls who can date rock stars; you’re not one of them. All that time on the road, all those groupies . . . You’d drive yourself and him insane.”

I shot him a look. “I’m in total agreement with you. But I’m insulted that you’d think I’d run back to him just because he made it big.”

“That’s not why. I didn’t want you to hear their first single if it could be helped.”

“‘Golden’?”

“Yeah . . .” He studied me as I headed toward the bathroom. “What’d you think of it?”

“It’s better than a song titled ‘Tapped That.’”

“Ha!” He waited until I came out again with my face washed and hair brushed. “So . . . you kissed him.”

“That’s the beginning and end of that story,” I said dryly. “Have you talked to Trey since Friday?”

“No. They’ve got my phone somewhere. My wallet, too, I’m guessing. When I came to, I was here, wearing this”—he pinched at his hospital gown—“freakin’ thing.”

“I’ll get your stuff for you.” I dumped my toiletries back in the bag, then went to sit in the chair beside him with my coffee in hand. “Lauren’s making arrangements to get you home with a private nurse.”

“Ooh . . . that’s a fantasy of mine. Can you make sure the nurse is hot? And single?”

My brows rose. Inside, though, I was so relieved to see him looking and sounding more like himself. “You’re obviously feeling better, if you’re feeling frisky. How did things go with Trey?”

“Good.” He sighed. “I’d worried that the party wouldn’t be his scene. I forgot that he knew a lot of the people already.”

Cary and Trey had met at a photo shoot, with Cary modeling and Trey assisting the photographer behind the camera. “I’m glad you had a good time.”

“Yeah. He was totally set on not getting laid.”

“So you tried . . . after you said you wouldn’t.”

“This is me we’re talking about.” He rolled his eyes. “Hell yeah, I tried. He’s hot and great in bed—”

“—and in love with you.”

He released his pent-up breath in a rush, wincing as his chest expanded. “No one’s perfect.”

I had to bite back a laugh. “Cary Taylor. Loving you isn’t a character defect.”

“Well, it’s not very smart. I was such an asshole to him,” he muttered, looking disgruntled. “He could do so much better.”

“That isn’t your decision to make for him.”

“Someone needs to make it.”

“And you’re volunteering because you love him, too.” My mouth curved. “Don’t you think that sounds ass-backwards?”

“I don’t love him enough.” All traces of levity were wiped from his face, leaving behind the wounded and lonely man I knew all too well. “I can’t be faithful like he wants. Just him and me. I like women. Love them, actually. I’d be cutting off half of who I am. Just thinking about it makes me resent him.”

“You fought too hard to accept yourself,” I said softly, remembering that time with more than a little twinge of sadness. “I totally understand and don’t disagree, but have you tried talking to Trey about it?”

“Yes, I talked to him about it. He listened.” He rubbed his fingers over his brow. “I get it, I do. If he told me he wanted to bang some other guy while seeing me, it’d bother the fuck out of me.”

“But not if it were a woman?”

“No. I don’t know. Shit.” His bloodshot green eyes pleaded with me. “Would it make a difference to you if Jauregui were banging another man? Or just another woman?”

The door opened and Lauren walked in. I held her gaze when I said, “If Lauren’s dick touched anything but her hand or me, we’d be over.”

Her brows rose. “Well, then.”

I smiled sweetly and winked. “Hi, ace.”

“Angel.” She looked at Cary. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Cary’s lips twisted wryly. “Like I got hit by a bus . . . or a bat.”

“We’re working on getting you set up at home. It looks like we can make that happen by Wednesday.”

“Big tits, please,” Cary said. “Or bulging muscles. Either will do.”

Lauren looked at me.

I grinned. “The private nurse.”

“Ah.”

“If it’s a woman,” Cary went on, “can you get her to wear one of those white nurse dresses with the zipper down the front.”

“I can only imagine the media frenzy over that sexual-harassment lawsuit,” Lauren said dryly. “How about a collection of naughty-nurse porn instead?”

“Dude.” Cary smiled wide and looked, for a moment, like his old self. “You’re the man.”

Lauren looked at me. “Camila.”

I stood and bent over to kiss Cary on the cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

We stepped out of the room and I saw my mother in conversation with the doctor, who looked dazzled by her.

“I talked to Garrity this morning,” Lauren said, referring to Mark, my boss. “So don’t worry about that.”

I hadn’t been, because she said she’d handle it. “Thank you. I’ll need to go in tomorrow. I’m going to see if I can get hold of Trey, Cary’s boyfriend. Maybe he can stop in while I’m at work.”

“Let me know if you need any help with that.” Lauren glanced at her watch. “You’ll want to stay here again tonight?”

“Yes, if that’s possible. Until Cary comes home.”

She took my face in her hands and pressed her lips to mine. “All right. I have a lot of work to catch up on. Charge your cell so I can reach you.”

I heard a faint buzzing. Lauren backed away and reached into an inner jacket pocket to withdraw her phone. She read the screen, then said, “I have to get this. I’ll talk to you later.”

Then she was gone, striding down the hallway as quickly as she’d arrived.

“She’s going to marry you,” my mother said, coming up to stand beside me. “You know that, don’t you?”

I didn’t, no. I still felt a little flare of gratitude every morning when I woke up and realized that we were still together. “What makes you say that?”

My mother looked at me with her baby blue eyes. It was one of the rare physical traits we didn’t share. “She’s completely taken you over and assumed control of everything.”

“That’s just her nature.”

“That’s the nature of all powerful women,” she said, reaching up to fuss with my no-nonsense ponytail. “And she’ll indulge you, because she’s making an investment in you. You’re an asset to her. You’re beautiful, well bred and well connected, and independently wealthy. You’re also in love with her and she can’t take her eyes off you. I bet she can’t keep her hands off you, either.”

“Mother, please.” I was so not in the mood for one of her lectures on the fine points of catching and marrying a rich man.

“Camila Cabello,” she scolded, facing me directly. “I don’t care if you listen to me because I’m your mother and you have to—or because you love her and don’t want to lose her, but you will listen.”

“Like I have a choice,” I muttered.

“You’re an asset now,” she repeated. “See that your life choices don’t make you a liability.”

“Are you talking about Cary?” Anger sharpened my voice.

“I’m talking about the bruise on Lauren’s jaw! Tell me that has nothing to do with you.”

I flushed.

She tsked. “I knew it. Yes, she’s your lover and you see an intimate side to her that few see, but don’t ever forget that she’s also Lauren Jauregui. You’ve got everything you need to be the perfect wife for a person of her stature, but you’re still replaceable, Camila. What she’s built is not. You jeopardize her empire and she’ll leave you.”

My jaw tightened. “Are you done?”

She ran her fingertips over my brows, her gaze shrewd and assessing. I knew she was giving me a mini-makeover in her mind, thinking of ways to improve what she’d given me from birth. “You think I’m a coldhearted gold digger, but my concern is maternal, believe it or not. I want very desperately for you to be with a person who has the money and wherewithal to guard you with everything they have, so I’ll know you’re safe. And I want you to be with a person you love.”

“I’ve found her.”

“And I can’t tell you how thrilled I am. I’m thrilled she’s young and still open to taking risks, so she’s more forgiving and understanding of your . . . quirks. And she knows,” she whispered, her gaze softening and growing liquid. “Just be careful. That’s all I’m trying to say. Don’t give her any reason to turn away from you.”

“If she did, that wouldn’t be love.”

Her lips curved wryly and she pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Come now. You’re my daughter. You can’t be that naïve.”

“Camila!”

I turned at the sound of my name and felt a rush of relief to see Trey hurrying toward me. He was of average height and nicely muscular, with unruly blond hair, hazel eyes, and a slight angle to his nose that told me it’d been broken at some point. He was dressed in faded, frayed jeans and a T-shirt, and I was struck by the fact that he wasn’t Cary’s usual flashy type. For once, it seemed, the attraction had been more than skin deep.

“I just found out,” he said when he reached me. “Detectives came by my work this morning and questioned me. I can’t believe this happened Friday night and I’m only just finding out about it.”

I couldn’t hold his slightly accusatory tone against him. “I just found out early this morning myself. I was out of town.”

After a quick introduction between my mother and Trey, she excused herself to go sit with Cary, leaving me to elaborate on the information Trey had gleaned from the detectives.

Trey shoved his hands through his hair, making it look even messier. “This wouldn’t have happened if I’d taken him with me when I left.”

“You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“Who else do I blame for the fact that he’s screwing around with another guy’s girl?” He gripped the back of his neck. “I’m the one who’s not enough for him. He’s got the drive of a hormonal teenager and I’m working or in school all the damn time.”

Ugh. Total TMI. It was a struggle not to wince. But I understood that Trey likely didn’t have anyone else he felt comfortable discussing Cary with.

“He’s bisexual, Trey,” I said softly, reaching out to run a comforting hand down his biceps. “That doesn’t mean you’re lacking.”

“I don’t know how to live with this.”

“Would you consider counseling? With both of you, I mean.”

He looked at me with haunted eyes for a long minute; then his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know. I think I have to decide if I can live with him cheating. Could you do it, Camila? Could you sit at home waiting for your lover, knowing they were sticking it somewhere else?”

“No.” An icy shiver coursed through me at the mere words. “No, I couldn’t.”

“And I don’t even know if Cary would agree to counseling. He keeps pushing me away. He wants me, and then he doesn’t. He’s committed, and then he isn’t. I want in, Camila, like he’s let you in, but he keeps shutting me out.”

“It took me a long time to break through to him. He tried pushing me away with sex, always coming on to me, taunting me. I think you made the right decision keeping it platonic on Friday. Cary puts his value on his looks and sex appeal. You need to show him that it’s not just his body you want.”

Trey sighed and crossed his arms. “Is that how you two got close? Because you wouldn’t sleep with him?”

“Partly. Mostly it’s because I’m a mess. It’s not as obvious now as it was when we met, but he knows I’m not perfect.”

“Neither am I! Who is?”

“He believes you’re better than he is, that you deserve better.” I grinned. “Me . . . well, I bet part of him thinks I deserve him. That we deserve each other.”

“Crazy fucker,” he muttered.

“He is that,” I agreed. “That’s why we love him, isn’t it? Do you want to go in and see him? Or do you want to go home and think about it?”

“No, I want to see him.” Trey’s shoulders rolled back and his chin lifted. “I don’t care what put him here. I want to be with him while he’s going through this.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” I linked my arm with his and led him to Cary’s room.

We entered to the sound of my mother’s trilling, girlish laughter. She sat on the edge of the bed, with Cary smiling adoringly at her. She was as much a mother to him as she was to me, and he loved her so much for that. His own mother had hated him, abused him, and allowed others to abuse him.

He looked over and saw us, and the emotions that swept across his face in that moment caused a tightness in my chest. I heard Trey’s breath catch as he got his first sight of Cary’s condition. I kicked myself for not telling him in advance not to make the mistake of getting weepy like I had.

Trey cleared his throat. “Drama queen,” he said with gruff affection. “If you wanted flowers, you should’ve just asked for them. This is extreme.”

“And ineffective, apparently,” Cary rejoined hoarsely, clearly trying to pull himself together. “I don’t see any flowers.”

“I see a ton.” Trey’s gaze did a brief slide across the room, then went back to Cary. “Just wanted to see what I was up against, so I could beat out my competition.”

There was no way to miss the double meaning in that statement.

My mom rose from the bed. She leaned over and kissed Cary’s cheek. “I’ll take Camila out to breakfast. We’ll see you in about an hour or so.”

“Gimme a sec,” I said, passing the bed quickly, “and I’ll get out of your hair, guys.”

I grabbed my phone and charger out of my bag and plugged it into an outlet by the window.

As soon as the screen flickered to life, I sent a quick group text message to Shawna and my dad, saying simply: I’ll call later. Then I made sure my phone was silenced and left it on the window ledge.

“Ready?” my mom asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

#camren #camren fanfiction #camren smut #camren shipper #camren gip #lauren jauregui #lauren and camila #laurengip #camila cabello #camila and lauren #crossfire

[egoistafms]

➷ ⸻ LUCIA HERNANDEZ-MARTINEZ

Lucia Hernandez picked up their key from the front desk 6 months ago. The thirty year old uses she/her pronouns and is a bottle service at Catch Me If You Can from Monterrey, Mexico. According to their apartment application, people have told them they look a lot like Melissa Barrera, and the character they identify with most is Rachel Green from Friends. Santa Moneda gives you a warm welcome, and we hope you enjoy your stay. 

hi, hola, bonjour ! this is my baby lucia, she's kind of a trainwreck. there are slight mentions of dv and mental health issues below.

playlist.

♡ ━━ BASICS

full name: lucia hernandez-martinez

birthdate: february 21, 1993

age: thirty

ethnicity: mexican

gender: cis woman ( she/her/hers )

orientation: pansexual

occupation: bottle service at catch me if you can

languages spoken: spanish ( specifically mexican spanish ), english

positives: free-spirited, amiable, optimistic, affectionate

negatives: impulsive, flighty, selfish, ditzy, sensitive

likes: shopping, partying, dancing, spicy foods, working out, bubble baths, matcha lattes, the smell of fresh flowers, social media, homeopathic remedies, flan, skincare, edibles.

dislikes: thunderstorms, telenovelas, responsibilities, country music, cold weather, confrontation, close-minded people.

inspo: rachel green from friends, karen smith from mean girls, cassie from euphoria, and kelly kapoor from the office.

♡ ━━ BACKGROUND

at the age of three, the hernandez-martinez family relocated from their little home in monterrey, mexico to the big city of los angeles, california. the family wasn’t well-off by any means, living in a run-down apartment barely getting by. her mother, rosana, became the owner of mi vida bar which didn’t earn them enough income as they hoped. her father, alejandro, picked up landscaping on top of helping out with the new family business. 

lucia was the youngest of two. the most spoiled child and notably the favorite, which caused a rift in the relationship with her sister, valeria. her formative years were spent enrolled in dance recitals and beauty pageants. with her love of putting on a show, her mother always believed she’d be a shining star. this slowly began the battle of basing her self-worth solely on her appearance.

tw dv; despite the toll these activities had on her mental health, she was grateful for the little moments she was able to escape from the chaos of her household. said chaos only halted when a neighbor from their apartment complex phoned the police during a heated brawl. her father was arrested at the scene and then kept after findings of multiple other criminal offenses. all contact was severed with her father after the incident.

dynamics soon changed in the hernandez-martinez residence. valeria later felt the need to take on the caretaker role, eventually picking up a job to help their mother with rent. however, lucia always lived in her own carefree little bubble, believing her social status meant more than lending a hand. in fact, her egocentric personality made her both loved and hated by many. she squeezed her way into the popular clique in high school. often, she’d skip classes to smoke or shop with the money she had stolen from her mother. education wasn’t her forte, made evident by her below-average grades. her mother began to instill the belief in lucia that she’d never amount to anything. telling her that she’d have to find a rich partner if she wanted to make it successful in life.

due to the girl’s nasty habit of stealing, her mother sent her on her way after graduation. somehow she was able to convince valeria to help her on her feet. in typical lucia fashion, she burned that bridge by racking up thousands in credit card debt under her sister’s name. once again, she’d been sent off to fend for herself, becoming somewhat of a drifter. she’d connect with people only to use them for their money and a place to stay. she’d bleed them dry, then rinse and repeat. lucia wasn’t necessarily proud of her behavior, but she’d pin the blame on her mother. she couldn’t stomach being at fault for her own actions.

her last ex-boyfriend, juniper, caught wind of her schemes fairly early in their only three-month-long relationship. yet again, she’d racked up thousands in credit card debt under someone else’s name. after his findings, he threatened to sue her unless she paid him back in full. to avoid the consequences of her actions, she took what little money she had left and fled to valparaiso, chile in hopes of starting a new life.

♡ ━━ OTHER TIDBITS

believes herself to be an incredibly spiritual person. although she does not practice a certain religion, she has a belief in the universe and cosmic energies. typically, whenever she is undergoing a crisis, she prefers to find a local tarot card reader. if she feels her luck is particularly bad she reaches out to curanderos for spiritual cleansings.

prefers homeopathic remedies over western medicine. she’s always carrying around homeopathic treatments in her bag, along with edibles.

very obsessed with the moon and the stars. in fact, she is the type of person to stop a conversation to have you gazing up at the sky.

due to her dancing background, she picked up a love for it over the years. her absolute favorite is salsa and she is guaranteed to invite anyone out for salsa dancing.

very obsessed with music, though she doesn’t consider herself a singer, she has an amazing vocal range. she only ever shows off her pipes singing in the car or at karaoke nights if she’s had a few drinks in her system.

most would consider her to be social media obsessed. she doesn’t have a huge following, just a couple thousand spanning across every platform. she still will take the time to capture every moment for an aesthetically pleasing post on her feed.

her huge downfall is her spending habits. she finds an excuse to treat herself no matter the state of her bank account.

for a huge chunk of her life, she considered herself to an entrepreneur. often, she’d throw herself head first into business endeavors that never took off. one being a skincare line titled ’diosa’ which was funded by an ex.

she’s only worked one real job before making her move to chile. she was a bartender for almost two months at her mother’s bar. after showing up late numerous times or choosing not to show up to her shifts at all, she was promptly fired.

is super into fitness. she has a daily routine that consists of drinking a green juice, which is followed by her morning run. she also loves working out at the gym, even taking yoga classes whenever she can.

she is unsure of her stance on love. she loves the idea of committing to someone, but it also terrifies her. with no sense of who she truly is, she often morphs herself into whoever the person she's infatuated with wants her to be.

♡ ━━ WANTED CONNECTIONS

the not-so-typical ride-or-die friendship. where both muses are constantly causing chaos or pulling each other out of messes they've created for themselves. i'd love to play into her scheming side, possibly stringing your muse along to scam locals of free drinks from the bar or extra cash.

chaos typically follows lucia wherever she goes, or so she'd like to believe. she'd love a voice of reason. someone to turn to for advice whenever she's in disarray.

tapping into her spiritual side, someone who knows tarot that she pesters for assistance and free readings !

anyone lucia may have scammed in the past whether it be for a place to stay, financial gain, or even a social media presence.

co-workers ! she has a terrible work ethic, so they could either love her or hate her for it. definitely would love to have both sides of the spectrum.

enemies. she typically doesn't hold resentment toward people, so she'd more than likely try to win them over. this could fail or be a huge success !

work-out buddies ! someone she goes to the gym with or even comes along for her morning runs.

past friendships ! possibly fallen out due to lucia's flightiness or they've simply lost touch.

on-and-off-again relationship. commitment is a huge fear, which i'd love to play into. whenever things become a little too serious for lucia's liking, she tends to tap out. somehow they always fall back into each other.

always down for fwbs, frenemies, neighbors, and other sorts !

#smhqintro

[unohanabbygirl]

Sorry for the late response to the latest chapter of FMN. Okay I feel like Luke deserves to get a punch in on Aemond when he gets his memories back, maybe a few actually for what Aemond said in the past, even if he was trying to cover up his heartbreak. Everything about Daemon’s POV is spot on and I love how you managed to accomplish that! So what I gathered is that Daemon is still the uncle of the Targtower kids and Rhaenyra is his first cousin, right? And my god, reading Luke’s files from the past was absolutely crushing. I really hope there’s a copy of that video on Luke’s mom or they find her because I feel like there will be a damning piece of evidence that might be key in Luke’s trial. I think I got all of the hints you dropped and let me tell you I am freaking out about what it all means and how it will all play out as the story continues. Also Aemma, love you lots, but not good timing. Excellent writing as always and much love!

Luke deserves to get in more than a punch after everything he’s been through both in the past AND the present. Anger is an understandable emotion and if anyone in owed to take a few hits out on their murderer it’s Luke. Regardless of the fact that deep down he still might want to give Aemond smooches.

Despite all of this I can’t help but feel that the saddest part is even if he beat Aemond black and blue, no physical hit could amount to even a fraction of the pain he’s experienced and will have to learn to work through in order to make life worth living. It’s the most bittersweet part of the whole story. Even when everything is set and done, everyone kisses and makes up and all that jazz, these things still happened to Luke and truly healing is a process that’ll take years.

I’m so happy that you liked Daemon’s pov! He’s such a hard character to make come to life from a realistic angle because he’s such a confusing man. He’s not a bad guy but he’s definitely no where near a good guy either. Its that perfect gray area which makes it hard to get a good read on him. He maims rapists which is amazing, but clearly has less than familial feelings for his 14yr old niece. He loves both of his wife’s and adores their children to death but had no problem killing his first wife who did nothing to him he give him the same attitude he gave her (in show canon at least since he wasn’t in the Vale when Rhae died in f&b) Yea, he killed a little boy, but this is a world that operates on rules similar to the old testament. An eye for an eye, a leg for a leg, a son for a son.

Personally I feel that some people either write him like a stereotypical evil villain while others make him too uncaring and laid back. So i’m glad that I hit that good spot in the middle.

You’re correct! His brother Travis is the green kids father making him their uncle while Rhaenyra is his first cousin on his aunts side. I wanted everyone to still have that close familial relationship by blood while still switching things up enough to make their new relation believable and fit the timeline.

There’s definitely a bigger plot playing out in the background and Luke’s mother is a key player. Everything from being the only person who knows Luke’s true father to getting that mysterious call from her his self-proclaimed sister and whatever lawyer was able to get her such a good get out of jail free card after how she treated Luke. Cathryne is an important puzzle piece who we can only hope will come out of hiding soon. (Or get dragged out 👀)

Lol, Aemma really chose the worst to show up didn’t she? Daemon’s world is falling apart as he tries to piece together his newly found sons past while his smartest most mature kids have decided to do the most idiotic thing ever and sneak into a club and get sloppy drunk + start a fight all while knowing that Luke is knee deep in serious legal trouble. Now isn’t the greatest time for grandma Aemma to pull up with homemade chocolate chip cookies 😭

I appreciate your sweet words babes. Much love to you too 🥰

#asks

[lawful-evil-novelist]

15 Questions-OC Edition

Tagged again by @eli-writes-sometimes, and since I did Aydın, I figure I should also do Valentine, my other lead.

Are you named after anyone?

Oh, yes, actually, the first king of Tir’oloth, Valentinus, it was much more common when I was younger to be named after royalty, very in-vogue for dark elven nobles.

When was the last time you cried?

That’s not really your business, now is it?  I have cried in times of tragedy, but much like my Narcissa, I prefer to express such emotions privately.

Do you have kids?

Quite a few, shall I list them for you?  Andromeda, Cybele, Bartimaeus, Dionysus, Septimus, Vesper, Isidora, Renata…They’re all delights, I could go on. (Author’s Note: He has a lot of kids, he’s also 300)

Do you use sarcasm?

I am firmly of the opinion that if you don’t use sarcasm you have little skill with words, and even less with using them.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

Their reflexes, socially and physically.  Recognizing reflexes are the first step in determining someone’s weaknesses.

What's your eye color?

Well, the eye I still have is green.  My left eye used to be green, hence the moss agate replacement.

Scary movies or happy endings?

I’ll have you know Narcissa tells the best ghost stories.  There were nights when Andromeda and Cybele wouldn’t leave my side because their mother scared them so, and Vesper would be huddled right alongside them so certain he wasn’t scared.

Any special talents?

I would call my charms my greatest gift, and I’m sure my wives and husband would agree.  They put up with me, after all.

Where were you born?

Tir’oloth, one of the many elven kingdoms that has fallen to the Janurian Empire, for all that’s worth.  The region is now called the Alektian Webs.

What are your hobbies?

I have a fondness for card games, and chess, and I fence quite well though Ursa does often call me a peacock.  Savaş has lent a song to accompany my violin many a time as well.  He has quite the voice.

Have you any pets?

Gem dragons are exceptionally small dragons–only the size of a cat, see–with impressive psionic abilities.  Jupiter, here, is of the emerald variety, very clever creatures, not quite the level of their larger kin but very fascinating pets–and familiars.  They also make for wonderful pickpockets, when trained right.

What sports do you play/have played?

Nobles of my culture are not quite expected to play sports as much as train in combat arts.  I’ve fenced since I was a boy, and have quite the aim with a bow and dagger.

How tall are you?

Not so tall, but average for my kind,  I stand at five and a half feet.

Favorite subject in school?

I had a fondness for classes on enchantment and illusion magic during my schooling.

Dream job?

Why, I have it.  I find there is no greater calling for me than an expensive sword for hire.

And I’m gonna pass over tags to @thespacelizard because I love their characters

#writing stuff #original character #original work #valentine peralda #and yes he does talk kinda like he's flirting with everyone #and will take any opportunity to talk about his wives/husband/kids

[fatedwithmbc]

Everyday is a new adventure, right? Right. Today was no exception, only I did something I’ve wanted to do for years. Yes, I said YEARS.

I ventured with my two best friends to the Lavender Farm where we spent time with each other among the beautiful aroma of lavender, the pollinating bees and three equine friends. When I first decided this was something I wanted to do, we were in the height of the pandemic. The farm wasn’t open to visitors. So, waiting was in the cards. I think, however, it was worth the wait. My 57 pictures from today would probably say the same thing.

We were surrounding by various shades of purple and green emanating their pleasant (and naturally bug repelling) aroma. I could have called this heaven. But that means, I’d need sun screen 24/7 as we were in open fields. The sky was overcast and we did encounter a brief shower - not enough to scare us away though. We ventured the rows of the fields looking for the sprigs we deemed “just right” to snip from the mother plant. The bees were content enough to share, but I am sure they’d prefer if we did not snip their plants for our bouquets for the sole purpose of decor and addition of pleasant aroma to our homes. Surprisingly, there were two horses and one pony in the midst of everything. Much to my chagrin, there wasn’t feed. Therefore, interaction with the beautiful creatures was limited, but much loved.

The farm also had a lovely shop that featured every way in which lavender could be used. For libations, culinary uses, bath and body items and candles, among other things. I purchased a pre-cut bouquet of lavender to hang above my window. For some reason, in my mind - it’s going to bring me positive energies through my window. I also acquired a t-shirt, which if you know me in real life, you know I do NOT need another t-shirt. And lastly, I purchased foaming hand soap and a linen/all purpose spray.

Our excursion was followed up with a much needed lunch. I think we built up our appetites as we walked the fields (although, they were not extensive). Cracker Barrel was a surprise selection for all of us, but we enjoyed the comfort food, and the shop in the front. Maybe we enjoyed the shop a little too much. At any rate, it was a very well spent afternoon. It was one of those afternoon’s that are often wished for, but seldom repeated.

And that my friends, is the worst part, the lack of time available for these types of activities as one ages. Adulthood is wished for by the young with such strong fervor, but there’s no doubt that those wishes come with ignorance to how much being an adult is NOT what we all think it’s cracked up to be. Gone are the days of saying, “I have plans with so-and-so. See ya later, Dad”. Now, responsibility takes over. At 37, I’m well aware of this lesson, but it still “gets” me at times.

Our attempt to avoid the time in between visits is to work on my bucket-Iist. To be honest, I’m still trying to figure half of that out. But as I think of things, I will let the girls know, and I know they’ll be there to do, see, help, accomplish, tackle- whatever the idea brings with it. Our next one is a simple sleep over. Like in high-school. John Hughes movies, pizza, ice cream, girl talk. And we also discussed a trip over seas to Turks and Caicos. I’m all about travel. I LOVE TRAVEL. I just get hesitant to long term plan as I never know what “mood” my body is going to decide to be in and for how long. I know my friends are very patient and understanding when it comes to that part of it, but it doesn’t make it easier for me.

The limitations of my body have been (and continue to be) the most difficult part of my diagnosis. This brings me back to Mom-Mom’s favorite saying, I’ll tackle this “One Day at a Time”.

One frustration for this weekend coming up, is I want to travel to the family reunion, but my body is not cooperating. A few hours away from home and my body is screaming at me to have pain medication and lay in bed. But when I do so, my mind is racing so much that I inevitably get up and do some small task in my room just to settle that feeling of needing to be in action/move/accomplish/do. I am nervous for my fundraising walk at the end of September. If I feel this way now, can I walk 3.1 miles (5K)? I’ll crawl if I have to. I have too much determination. Not to mention my support system keeps growing my team and I know they’ll help me make it. The entire time, we can push onward with the mantra of “F” Cancer. The girls surprised me with hoodies for the walk that are Metastatic Awareness colors. I cried like a baby, I’ve never felt so supported by my friends - not to say that they’ve never cared, but this is a whole other level of care and concern that is hugely touching and heart filling. I feel lucky for all of the people I have in my life that I have been able to count on during this time and while having this disease. And all I can say, is thank you while doing my best to be there for them to show my gratitude in return.

Well, this was a lengthy one folks. Thanks for bearing with me as I rambled on yet again.

El Fin.

#fated with mbc #confessions of a cancer patient #stage iv deserves more #metastatic breast cancer #stage iv metastatic breast cancer #breast cancer #lavender #lavender farm