Tumgik
#bouncing back and forth like a ping pong ball
curiouskinetic · 6 months
Text
the star rail bainrot is taking over again does anyone want a starter for that verse fdkhjfd
6 notes · View notes
wistrearchived · 7 months
Text
sits here. thinking about ffxv kira again, my most beloved...
5 notes · View notes
deanportmans · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Not trying to be thirsty on main but… Doom is absolute fucking sex I’m sorry. I saw a pic and just, wow that did smth, now I’m on a Doom kick to ig. But seriously I cannot deal rn this fucker… this fucker… Divine fucking scored big time oh my god way to go s/i! Like damn!! Tbf though Divine is extremely cute and deadly… right up Doom’s alley .
3 notes · View notes
kermitgasm · 1 year
Text
if 100 gecs are in my spotify wrapped everyone close ur eyes
1 note · View note
screechthemighty · 1 year
Text
Y’all I am going to be an Annoying Mess on Nov. 9, first day playing God of War: Ragnarok AND there’ll be a new episode of Andor??? Just turn my brain into a smoothie at that point.
1 note · View note
ineffectualdemon · 11 months
Text
Kiddo is Autistic and ADHD and Husband is as well
I'm just autistic
The way I know I am not ADHD is how many times we end up...not in conflict but at odds when we try to talk about something with all three of us.
Because I view conversation as a presentation where we each bringing cool things to show each other. Like "Look at this neat object! Let me show you all the cool things it does!"
Husband and Kiddo however see conversation as a game of ping pong and will take the object and immediately start batting it back and forth
And they're having a wonderful time and I'm frustrated because I want my object back! I wasn't done with it!
and it can get really frustrating for me because I'm trying to finish my presentation but Husband and Kiddo want to play ping pong but the reverse is frustrating for them because to them I am holding the ball and refusing to bounce it back for ages.
It's okay that they have a different view of conversation it just makes finding a happy medium challenging at times
189 notes · View notes
strawnarrries · 1 year
Note
can u do one where the boys realize harry is in love with y/n :)
i think this is my new favorite thing ive ever written this is the cutest idea ever
It was early October of 2013. You had joined your boyfriend and his bandmates for a couple of shows on their Take Me Home tour since your schedule freed up for a couple of days.
You and Harry started dating towards the end of June of 2013 and everything had been going perfectly, except for the fact that he was on tour with the boys. You met in the middle of the tour, so you hadn't exactly been able to see him as much as you wanted after you first met. You texted if not called every day. Since you both were so young, it was hard to see each other, especially since he was halfway across the world, but you really really liked each other so you made it work.
Tour was so fun. His band was so fun. He was so fun. You just loved every second you have been there. You and Harry were still in the honeymoon stage so of course, he never wanted to leave your side. The only time you were apart was when he was either on stage or in the bathroom. He stuck by your side everywhere you all went and the PDA between you didn't go unnoticed by his bandmates. Harry isn't the biggest PDA person, especially since he and the boys were growing very quickly in the music industry and people constantly watch and talk about him, but since the relationship is so new and you're the first girl he feels this jittery about, he doesn't mind showing you a little sugar in front of his close friends and family.
It was obvious he was smitten by you. The giggles, the tickling, the cheek kisses, the hugs, the way he looks at you, how he constantly wants you by his side, all of it.
Currently, you all were in Sydney, Australia, and were hanging out backstage before the show. Harry had challenged you to a ping pong competition and currently, you were tied with the next point being the winning point. He served the ball to you and you hit it back and forth a few times before he missed his hit and the ball went bouncing on the floor (it was a super easy hit so you knew he let you win but you wanted to tease him).
He groaned and you squealed dramatically. You set the paddle down on the table and ran over to him, grabbing onto him and teasing him, "Harryyyy! You suck! You just got beat by a girl who's never played ping pong!"
He followed your actions and set his paddle down, bending down and lifting you up onto his waist, "whatever I let you win."
"You liar," you grinned while playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.
"Nuh uh," he grinned at you, his lips leaning closer to yours.
"Yuh huh," you giggled back against his lips before he gave you a sweet peck.
Little did either of you know, Niall and Louis were watching you both, grossed out but also happy for Harry at the same time.
"They're disgusting," Louis spoke.
"Try sharing a hotel room with them," Niall rolled his eyes, "she was scratching his back the other day. I wanted to fuckin' vomit."
"Ew, I saw him braiding her hair once," Louis added, "I didn't even know he knew how t' braid hair."
"She probably taught him. He's so in love with her," Niall teased.
"He doesn't hide it at all either," Louis chuckled back, "he's a totally different person around her. It's weird as shit seein' that side of Harold."
"Styles is officially a softie," Niall replied back.
Louis then made a whipped sound effect and Niall giggled at him in agreeance.
"At least he's not like Liam who sticks his fuckin' tongue down Sophia's throat no matter who's around."
The conversation between the boys trailed off and you two were no longer the center of their attention. It was a little bit later and the boys were lounging around in their dressing room, snacking on junk food while Lou pulled them aside one at a time for hair and makeup, Liam currently being the one in the chair, sadly about to miss out on the events that are going to occur next.
You had just got back from the bathroom and Harry patted his thighs, acknowledging that he wanted you to sit on his lap. You walked towards him and sat down on his left thigh, your legs hanging off of his right one before he spoke lowly, "I missed you."
"I was gone for 5 minutes," you chuckled softly at him, wrapping your right arm around his neck.
"Still missed you," he replied before pressing a kiss against your cheek.
"Will you two get a room?" Niall teased you both with a grin on his lips.
You blushed slightly as you and the rest of the boys giggled at him while Harry rolled his eyes, a soft smirk planted on his lips, "Shut up, 'm allowed t' kiss my girlfriend's cheek."
"Yer also allowed t' give 'er some space. Ya haven't stopped touchin' 'er since she got here!"
"Awww Nialler, leave 'em alone. He's in love!" Louis added, emphasizing the last part.
Your entire body heated up and you just knew your face was bright red. Harry was the opposite. The color drained from his face and you could physically feel him tense up under you.
"Oh my god, he hasn't said it yet," Zayn added, noticing Harry's panicked state.
Louis gasped, "You haven't said it yet? Harold, you make it so fuckin' obvious you love her."
"Fuck off!" Harry replied, giggling nervously.
"Y/N, Harry loves you!" Louis yelled as he began running out of the room.
Harry gently urged you off of his lap and you stood up, watching as he chased after Louis, the other boys following to watch the scene. As they left the room, you could hear their running footprints echoing down the long hallway. Not long later, a slight crash resounded, Louis let out a high-pitched girly scream, and all the boys erupted into loud laughter. You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips.
Not even 30 seconds later, Harry walked through the door again, closing it behind him. You stood up and walked towards him, a huge grin on your lips at the hilarious events that just happened and at how cute it was seeing Harry get embarrassed for the first time.
"'m sorry about them. They kinda ruined the moment, didn't they?" he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
"That's okay," you grinned as you walked up to him, wrapping your arms around each other.
"Kinda wanted t' get you alone to say it, but we haven't really been alone much."
"We're alone now."
"Guess that's true."
There were a couple seconds of silence, a bright red tint on his cheeks. You could tell how nervous he was. You swore you could hear how fast his heart was beating.
"Well," you teased, "are you gonna say it?"
He blushed even harder before chuckling nervously, "I love you."
You couldn't keep the grin off of your face, your cheeks burning with overuse. You leaned up on your tip-toes and pressed a sweet peck to his lips, "I love you too."
"Really?" he asked, his grin mimicking yours.
"Of course."
His hands cupped your cheeks as he leaned in again, pressing his soft lips to yours for another sweet kiss, this one longer and deeper. He pressed a few more kisses to your pink lips, butterflies swarming in both of your tummies.
"Did you think I wouldn't say it back?"
"I dunno," he shrugged.
"You overthink too much."
284 notes · View notes
papersirens · 6 months
Text
Stay The Night
Tumblr media
-ˋˏ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪs ᴀғᴀʙ / ᴀᴏ3 ᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ / ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ / ᴡᴄ: 3220 ˏˋ-
Tumblr media
Warnings: Angst, tension at dinner, anxiety attacks, hurt with some comfort and then more hurt with no comfort, break ups, break up sex, PIV sex, pussy eating, hand holding while fucking, general heartbreak
AN: what a couple of days huh?!?!? uh anyway this was written a couple weeks ago ready for todays episode so im sorry HAHA there's an apology fic coming right after this
Tumblr media
18+ Blog only! Minors DNI!
The air was thick between you and Satoru. A sickening pain in your chest that made it hard to breathe, your brain bouncing from side to side like a goddamn ping pong ball in your head. The dinner you made was growing colder by the second, pushing the vegetables on top of your rice back and forth with chopsticks. You could barely look at him, tears brewing in your eyes whenever you do. It’s hard to get a read on Satoru; it usually is. A very expressional man can quickly become confusing and indecipherable. 
You dared to look up at him across the table, the pain in your chest worsening and blinking away the tears that formed. He sat carelessly, like he normally would; shoes off and legs crossed in the chair like he still belonged here, slouched forward with the bowl of rice in his lap, picking a piece of food from a plate and eating it with rice. He was still in his work uniform, a not-so-subtle reminder of what has put you both in this distressful situation with one another.
“Gojo, take the blindfold off.” You speak a little louder than intended, forced as you try and keep your voice from breaking. “You know I never liked you wearing it at the dinner table.” 
It’s true. You couldn’t see him with it on, even though he could see you. It represented his work, a reminder that he isn’t going to relax, that he could disappear at any moment for one reason or another. That simple piece of cloth brought back bad memories, fights for him to stay just for a day, enjoy a nice dinner and actually follow through with plans you’d made together. 
Satoru was silent for a moment, unsure where he was looking or willing to acknowledge you. “You haven’t called me Gojo in years.” 
Of course he was changing the subject, opting to completely ignore your request. He knows it annoys you, and yet he proceeds to push your buttons anyway. 
“Yeah, well, I don’t feel like referring to you by your first name anymore.” 
It’s painfully silent again. Your head hung low as you tried to hide the tears that were falling freely down your cheeks. While it’s obvious you were crying, you just don’t need Satoru seeing it so clearly. Embarrassed to be seen acting so weak in front of someone who is so strong. What you don’t realise is that Satoru’s heart was breaking just as hard — he was much better at hiding it, however. 
No one at work had any idea of the emotional turmoil that was his personal life, how his relationship of five years is in tatters and he isn’t sure what he can do about it. The knife was just as painful in his chest, eyes stinging painfully with tears. Students, co-workers, his boss — no one had any idea of what was happening because Gojo remained his usual confident, cocky and charismatic self. 
Eventually, Satoru relented as he silently pulled the mask up and off his head, setting it down on the table next to his bowl. You almost wanted to cry more, seeing him like this brought back the positive memories; the times when he would take you out to see the fireworks during the summer, see the cherry blossoms every year during the spring, dress up in silly outfits during Halloween even though he doesn’t celebrate like you, take you sightseeing on Christmas Eve. Bright blue eyes met yours for the first time in months and you choked back a sob. 
Your bottom lip wobbled as the tears fell and you couldn’t hold it in anymore, the barrier had been broken and you dropped the cutlery in favour of burying your face in your hands. All you could hear was your own sobs, the feeling of pain and resentment and hopelessness enveloping over you. Spatial awareness was long gone as you hadn’t noticed Satoru practically throw the bowl in his hands back onto the table, standing and approaching you on the other side. 
His voice broke through to you, a hand on your back that gave you a mixture of comfort and repulsion. “Don’t cry baby.” 
Easy for him to say; you sobbed harder into your hands and pulled away from his touch. It felt like his hand was burning when you jerked away from him, unable to hide the hurt in his eyes behind a blindfold or glasses. 
“No,” you sobbed and struggled to breathe. “Just, go away Gojo. I’m sure you have somewhere to be. This was a bad idea.” 
It was your idea. 
Satoru knew it would be a bad idea, but he could feel the pleading and puppy dog eyes through the text message you sent. 
‘Do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow?’
He wouldn’t consider it a trap, nor did he think it would be filled with tense silence and crying. It’s been a month since you both finally parted ways and his longing heart couldn’t let him tell you no. Satoru was excited to see you again, even though he knew he shouldn’t. 
As usual, he ignored you in favour of picking on something else. “Stop crying first, calm down before you get yourself more worked up.” 
You hate how well he knew you, that he knew exactly what to say and how to disarm you. Satoru knew just when and how to set you off, egg you on even worse to create chaos and anger. In contrast, he also knew how to avoid those situations and reign you back into a normal state of mind. You didn’t want to be calmed down, you don’t want to feel okay about him again, you don’t want to love Satoru ever again. 
“Leave me alone! I don’t need you here, we’re not together anymore so fuck off!” 
Every word hurts both of you. Stab stab stab to both your hearts. You didn’t mean them and Satoru wanted to believe you didn’t either. 
He takes a deep breath, keeping himself calm so as not to accidentally hurt you when he grabs your face in his hands, pulling you to look at him. You hate how your heart aches longingly as you are forced to stare into his stunning blue eyes, the same ones you used to love gazing into. Those eyes that you would rather look at any day than the sights he takes you to see. Your sobs had stopped as he held you still, though your breathing was ragged as you’d worked yourself up anyway. 
“Deep breaths.” Fondness in your heart, grief and sadness. “You remember how long to hold it, don’t you?” Warm tingles emerge where his large hands hold you, longing for him to hold you more. “Keep going.” 
The anger and fury had been collected in a bottle and tossed to sea with your resolve. Left with a normal breathing pattern, tear stained cheeks and melancholy adoration in your heart for the man in front of you. You want him to kiss you, press his lips to yours and tell you everything is okay. He doesn’t, but Satoru does wipe away the couple of fresh tears that fall with his thumbs. 
When he stood up, it felt lonely; your cheeks were cold and lost without his touch. Satoru looked just as upset, though you already knew it wasn’t the same sadness you were experiencing. You still longed for him, and you could see it in his eyes that Satoru wanted to leave. 
There was nothing to talk about, nothing to resolve. You had tried — both of you had tried relentlessly to make it work. There’s only so much you could do to save the relationship, changing habits and attempting to be better people for each other. He had responsibilities and was physically unavailable often while you had a depleting mental state that was made worse when Satoru was forced to disappear for long periods of time. His days were unpredictable while you needed stability. Two loves who fell for each other but can’t sacrifice enough. 
Satoru putting the blindfold back on hurt almost as much as everything else. You don’t want it to happen — you don’t want the finality of him leaving and never seeing him again. Can’t live with each other, can’t live without. 
“Are you…” You start, your voice quiet and weak. It’s not like Satoru was rushing to leave, slow on putting his blindfold back on and collecting his half empty plates to gather on the counter for your breakfast. “Are you gonna stay the night?” 
No.
He shouldn’t.
He can’t.
Sloppy kisses, frantic hands, bodies being pushed into walls on the way to your bedroom. Satoru remembered your home like the back of his hand, a realisation that he quickly waves away in favour of how good your mouth tastes. He missed this, he missed your warmth and how nicely you fit into his hands. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you in, moaning as his tongue swiped over yours with a slick noise. 
It already feels wrong yet so right. Relief and guilt battle it out in your heart as you thread fingers through his locks, tugging the blindfold up and off his head again. The dark fabric is thrown carelessly behind him, intended to be left until the morning. Satoru’s hair was soft, thick and fluffy, just as you remembered it. Everything was just as you remember; the way he tasted so sweet, firm hands and strong muscles under your hands. You missed him so much. 
Satoru’s weight on top of you felt natural, the tickle of his long white hairs on your forehead as he hovered above you, hips rutting into you impatiently. Both of you were almost frantic to take your clothes off, pawing at his jacket to unbutton and push it away, a collective sigh of relief when you free’d his cock from his pants. It felt like you were made to touch him — only you. Hot and heavy in your hand, you knew exactly what Satoru liked as you twisted your hand up and down his shaft and squeezed in all the right places. 
Those noises are ones you missed greatly; huffs and whines as you only use your hand, making the great Gojo Satoru melt into putty in your hands just by touching him the right way. The moan of your name that passed his lips was disgusting, pathetic even. You need him to do it again, record it on your phone to replay every night as you touch yourself. 
You were still clothed for the most part, clit vibrating with desperation beneath your underwear as Satoru continued to let drawn out moans fall from his lips. Completely and utterly distracted with how good your hand feels, he could happily cum from this without touching you at all. Satoru knows he would regret it, however, and willed himself to focus on undressing you too. He missed your body, the warmth you offered him, all the beauty that makes you, you. After an item of clothing was removed, Satoru would make it his mission to lather the exposed skin in kisses. As he moved further down, you lost access to his cock but gained his thumb on your aching clit instead. 
Gasping when he pressed hard against your clit, Satoru began moving slowly in tight circles while his other hand parted your thighs further for him. Your mind was an aroused blur as his hot breath hit your exposed cunt, already gripping the sheets in the way he rubbed your sensitive nub. The anticipation had you almost shaking, whining when he kissed the inside of your thigh. You could feel his smile as he pressed another further up, running his tongue over the soft flesh before turning into a kiss. 
Satoru flicked the tip of his tongue against your entrance with no warning, a delightful and teasing sensation that caused a sharp moan. The thumb that was pressed on your clit moved up your pussy, giving access for his tongue to take over and dance. You shout his name in pleasure, worked up already to the point that his tongue felt like a dream. His favourite thing was hearing you moan his name while having his head buried between your legs, the taste of you was addictive enough he could live there. 
You uncontrollably squirmed on the bed as Satoru ate your pussy like it was his last meal. Large hands wrapped around your hips and sometimes thighs to keep you in place, groaning around your clit when your legs would press together against his head. Sitting up on your elbows, you watched Satoru pleasure you with a slew of moans falling from your mouth carelessly. Bright eyes remained locked on yours as he sucked on your clit, jaw hanging open as a result and a hand threading into his hair. Satoru’s lids dropped as you tugged and pulled, as though he could get any closer to you, allowing you to rag on his scalp as much as you pleased. 
Nothing else mattered, the tears and heartbreak were long forgotten in that moment. His expert tongue pressing against your clit was all you needed, practically shouting once Satoru slid a finger inside of your aching hole. Chanting his name now, you didn’t know what to do with your hands between grabbing onto his hair or the bedsheets. It was an explosive pleasure throughout your body, overwhelming to the point you were moving uncontrollably, an intense feeling you did and didn’t want to ever end. 
Satoru didn’t stop for even a moment, determined to make you finish on his fingers, feel your fluttering walls as he made you cum from his tongue. As you heave your breaths and practically scream from pleasure, you attempt to grab and hold onto Satoru’s hand that remains on your waist. You needed it, wanted him more than this, the comfort it would bring as your heart still aches from the situation you refuse to acknowledge. Thankfully you came shortly after he dodged your hand, opting to squeeze your chest instead and relish in the gushing of release on his fingers. 
A mixed bag of emotions was an understatement. Tears pooled in your eyes both from the orgasm and the sadness that clawed its way through your heart at his denial of reassurance and comfort. You wanted to cry, thrash and scream at your stupidity and his weakness for you. Satoru was the strong one between you both; if he can deny you doing something as simple as hand holding, then why did he choose to eat your cunt like it wouldn’t prolong the pain. 
You weren’t allowed to dwell on it for long as Satoru stood from the edge of the bed, pushing you further up the mattress and settling between your legs. A collective moan mixed through the bedroom when he slid his length into you easily, lubed and stretched by his tongue and fingers, he had been aching for this the entire time he was between your legs. Satoru always filled you so nicely, the perfect length and girth to have you craving him all hours of the day. It felt normal, like everything was okay again — except he kept himself knelt as far away from you as possible. 
Each drag of his cock against your walls was just enough of a distraction for you, punching at  the thought of how he would have you on your stomach if he could get away with it. He wanted to distance himself from you, because this is just sex and Satoru doesn’t want to give you any wrong ideas. In actuality, he was desperate to touch you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings as he pounded your pussy into the next century. Just like you used to; intimate moments filled with love and warmth, laughter and obsession with one another. It was never enough, going until the early hours of the morning and only mildly regretting it after a couple of hours sleep. Satoru hurt just as much as you did. 
He was the strong one between you both, but he had limits that he couldn’t help but pass. Indulging in you one last time was one of those. Satoru knows he shouldn’t have gone with this, or even let it go this far. Mind clouded with arousal and a burning desire in his gut, he maintained some kind of reminder that he can’t get roped into anything after this. The wobble of your bottom lip and tears in your eyes hurt him more than you would ever understand, but he continues anyway. 
The moans of his name became less pleasurable and more pleading — for what? Who knows; more pleasure, his love, dedication from him, for Satoru to never leave you and stay for another night after this. 
Another and another and another. 
Let there be many more holidays spent together, dinners, guests at a wedding before your own, pregnancies and babies, watching each other grow old and love each other just the same. 
Satoru caved somewhat, pushing on the back of your thighs towards your chest and leaning forward to rest his body weight on you. It was close and intimate, his cock driving even deeper inside of you and pulling on your hands to interlock fingers and pin them to the sheets below. 
You were stunned, and more upset than before. It was fake, a false promise to stop you from being so sad. The worst part is that it worked. 
His lips were close to yours, hot breath fanning yours as you moaned. A kiss, then another and another before your tongues were melting with each other again. It wasn’t like before, desperation was replaced with love and adoration. Lust overshadowed by genuine desire for one another, Satoru swallowing your moans like it was his job. 
You were the first one to cum again, crying out his name in a broken whisper as your eyes roll and cunt flutters against the fullness of his cock. It was quiet, bar the slapping of skin and squelching of your juices as he continued, breaking the kiss in favour of burying his face in the crook of your neck. The post nut clarity was already settling in as you squeezed his hands still interlocked with yours, kissing the side of his head as he moaned into your neck. 
Satoru came after pulling out and pumping his cock over your stomach, face bright red and flushed on his pale skin. This was what you missed; how innocent, raw, human Satoru looked in moments like these. He wasn’t the strongest sorcerer, he didn’t have the weight of the Jujutsu society on his shoulders. Simply Gojo Satoru, the love of your life. 
Clean up was quiet and there was almost no aftercare. You didn’t want to sleep for fear you will never see him again, staying awake in bed with him for as long as you could. Watching him in the darkness, stroking his hair and massaging his scalp, he looked peaceful for once. 
It’s just a shame that when you woke up after accidentally falling asleep, the bed was cold and lacking any kind of acknowledgement of the night before.
Tumblr media
@enchantedforest-network ♡ @planetonet
71 notes · View notes
Text
Summary: Rumors fly around like ping pong with the masses, flying back and forth with no one really catching them and only replacing them with a new ball. But the truth--the complete truth about you isn't like that.
If you've read my non-vigilante batsis reader drabbles, this is connected to them. I hope you enjoy this, I had fun writing it.
TW: Nothing
The masses whispered and gossiped in their cruel and twisted way, making everything worse than it seemed or better than it actually was. It seemed though, when it came to the Wayne family it was never just about Bruce, it was about Dick or Jason, Tim, and maybe even Damian.
All rumors varied with the four, going from good to bad like a ping pong ball and bouncing back and forth between each brother every different week. Though as the masses had agreed and the Wayne hoard had found out, everything about you seemed negative.
It would bounce from the way that you never smiled to questions about why there was oil under your fingernails or perhaps why you never talked unless it was to insult someone or why you always had your headphones in. Each and every rumor was nothing but the start of speculation that had gotten out of hand, thousands of conspiracies had all piled up and then sold as truth to the highest bidder possible.
Though you never tried to beat these rumors, going about your day as normal with your family, a smile on your face in the kitchen but being wiped off as soon as your foot passed the threshold. Your headphones would go from your neck to your ears and a pen pressed against paper when you got into the car to head to school, ignoring the loud remarks of Damian as he would criticize or question every single thing in your new idea.
It made you consider that they were wrong in saying that your biggest critic was yourself but instead, the biggest one was four feet tall and an asshole on a good day. The only thing that made his comments better was Tim telling him to shut up every five seconds while he was still neck-deep in paperwork and case files.
You never took your youngest brother's comments to heart, knowing he would only come to watch as you built your invention and he would want to try it out despite acting like he was the most uninterested child on the planet. Dick would usually beat him to it and sometimes he wouldn't, coming a kind of game between the two as time went on and Damian grew on both of you.
As soon as you walk out of the car, eyes are glued to both you and the other two, adoring, hateful or curious looks are thrown at all of you but quickly they all go back to their friends. The kids at school and the masses at galas had decided that if they aren't looking at someone, they can't hear them.
Though no matter what those at galas could say could amount to what you had heard at school but both used to cut deep, now it had become almost a game whenever you heard them instead of being hassled by both your brothers and Bruce at them. Bruce wanted you to talk to at least one person you didn't live with, Dick trying to make you laugh, making sure Jason didn't start a fight, giving Tim company when he was done socializing, and ensuring that Damian didn't stab anyone.
You looked around at the masses, all in their masks and expensive but cheap-smelling perfume and cologne, and all of them at least trying to butter up Bruce who had shown up. He usually let them, talking and using his typical charm but you knew he was keeping tabs on all of you, making sure that a few were behaving and knowing that all of you acting like you have done this a thousand times before wasn't going to happen.
Tim was beside you, scrolling on his phone and talking to other people that he probably wanted to be around more than all of these people and his siblings. You looked from him and then back to the crowd, watching all of them with the expertise that Bruce had taught you just like he had taught the other four.
To him, the ability to read people was needed not just in their work but in the life of someone who didn't run around in spandex and capes every night. It was practical, you had to admit, and had saved you a lot of time and many brain cells that hadn't already been burnt off by your family or the fires you had recently set in the Batcave.
You scan your eyes, catching couples angry at each other, kids much like yourself, bored out of their minds, men eyeing up other men or women and then you get glued onto a scene right in front of you with a woman, a man, and a familiar back. You slightly tilt your head, wondering what Jason was doing but from his stance, the way that he's tensed and looks like he's about to fight someone and you set down your cup next to the fake plant on the table, nod your goodbye to Tim and then head over.
It's easier to hear the conversation as you get closer and easier to read the situation all the way down to how the girl is almost curled into Jason from fear of the other man. You saddle right next to Jason, his eyes flickering to you and the other man looks at you and then to Jason, a highlight of fear appearing in his eyes at being confronted by a tank of a person and his younger sister who looked like she was ready to strangle the both of them.
A wide smile appeared on Jason's face as he slung an arm around her shoulders, looking at the man like he had just lost the biggest war imaginable. "Hey, so what I was telling this jackoff before you came over--"
Cutting him off, you pushed his arm off of you and shoved him back, making him gasp in fake shock and betrayal but stayed exactly where he was, watching what you were doing. "Look," you breathed out, already done with the situation, curiosity forming into annoyance and anger once all of the pieces got put together. "If you don't leave now, I'll kick your ass all of the way out the door and you will never step foot into here or anywhere ever again." You plastered on a fake smile. "No feet will make it kinda hard, don't you think?" You asked sweetly, gesturing for the woman to go with Jason for the moment.
The man only scoffed and looked back at the woman who was already walking away with Jason before looking back at you. "She's a prostitute, I was doing what any other man would do, nothing wrong with that," he defended and your smile turned into an almost sickly turn with whatever hatred you were looking at into him.
You hummed, ignoring the tiny presence that had stood beside you almost thirty seconds after Jason's leaving. "Hands too then," you remarked, laying a hand softly on Damian's back and hoping that no one could see you trying to pry the knife that he had snuck into the gala with him.
He fought against you, going as far as to prod back your fingers with the blade but never actually stabbing you as that would blow your cover as much as possible. "I think you should leave, now," you said firmly, smile dropping and watching as he tensed, jaw clenching as he turned around, only the muttering of "bitch," being the only thing you heard but you only shrugged it off.
Looking down at the demon beside you, he looked at you with questioning eyes and firm judgment. "If you let men like him walk away, he will continue to walk over you. Think you're an easy target," he pointed out.
You shrugged at him before removing your hand from his back and turning around, knowing that he would follow you all the way to where Jason was. Damian was like a shadow and to anyone else this would just look like a younger brother following his sibling like a puppy but that wasn't it and Damian was no puppy.
It was later when Bruce found out, he wasn't impressed but it was only met with a grunt that Jason had labeled as an "I'm slightly mad but don't it again." After he went out on patrol, leaving you and Babs alone in the cave, with her looking into the computers and you fiddling with a pen, trying to better an idea to sell it to Bruce and another paper laid underneath it that you had been refusing to look at that would be judged by Batman.
Because that was the difference between him and Batman, Bruce was a father and Batman was a soldier who expected much out of his partners while Bruce just wanted his kids to not kill each other or themselves. The similarities with both of them and you ran the same while the others ran differently, both gave you opportunities that no one else would have even thought about giving you.
Bruce gave you a home, Batman gave you a job and somewhere to put your dangerous ideas while Bruce gave you a space to help people and Batman gave you somewhere to make things to help him keep people safe. It was an exchange that would have seemed weird to anyone else, though you knew that no one else worked with a man in a bat suit who ran around stopping crime.
The sounds of frustration kept echoing around the room at almost max volume and you could see Babs starting to get frustrated with it as well. "Sorry," you muttered, hand fumbling around at your desk, grabbing an eraser to get rid of something so stupid that you couldn't believe that you had even thought about it.
You heard Bab's chair turn but you didn't look at her, still focused on the plans that you had made in front of you, and then one sigh later, you switched papers hoping that the architecture part of your job would prove to be easier. "You can go to bed, I'll be fine down here by myself," she said and you flicked your eyes up to her before looking back down, starting to add labels to the building's inside view.
A scoff went through your lips as you did so, looking at her once more and noticing her stern look. "Fat chance," you said, setting down your pencil and going to grab your pen but Bab's voice stopped you.
"I swear, you're just as bad as Tim," she remarked.
"Not yet," you said simply, looking at her with a sarcastic smile before setting down your things when she gave you another look that made you put away your stuff before water got thrown on them. "Fine but I'll join, wouldn't miss B's reaction to their antics."
A huff of laughter came from the redhead as you pulled up a chair, settling next to the woman and watching the screens with already deep setting boredom that made you almost miss being frustrated at your own ideas. "You know, I heard some things today at the gala," Babs started and you looked at her from your peripheral barely looking away from the screens.
"He deserved it," you defended. "You know how I am about that--how me and Jay are about that shit."
Babs nodded, but the same look stayed on her face, she was thinking about something and she was thinking hard. "You're a lot like Bruce you know? Especially for not being related to him," she said.
You shifted in your seat, facing the redhead now. "Sounds like an accusation, maybe an insult now I'm thinking about it." Turning back around in the seat, you looked back at the screen. "We're all like him, Babs. He's raised us since we were preteens, some of us younger."
Young and dumb, wanting a home and so angry with the world and everything it had handed you in the form of a timeline that never failed to fuck you all over. All without actual parents, looking up to Bruce as a figure that may not have all been as a father but just close enough to refer to him as one when talking to others.
Jason had handed you to Bruce, forcing him to help a girl whose mother had just died and not wanting her to be stuck on the streets the way everyone else had been. It was the prostitutes that had led you two to meet, your mother being one of the ones that helped him whenever she could and gave him cash for throwing rocks at Johns who didn't know the meaning of get out.
Both of you had been sitting in the alleyway when the first meeting happened, it was a few years before Bruce had picked him up and you were too young to know exactly what was going on but it was the knowledge that it was that made you know that it wasn't good. He had talked to you, and even then he was more friendly to street kids than others, most of the ones on the street all knowing each other well enough to not trust each other to not sell the other one out but enough to talk in general.
"I mean--You two have different personalities for different things," she said.
You shrugged. "There's plenty of difference there, he tries to keep his separate. When he's stupid when he's Brucie. He's a fucking mother hen when it comes to being B." A sigh escapes your lips when the mention of his other personality came into play. "We all know how Batman is." You looked at her again. "I'm me, all of the time but the thing is, I have a choice on who I like and I'm not particularly a people person."
Babs nodded at your words and looked back at the screen. "I don't want you to think I'm mad at you Babs. It's just--" You stopped, not knowing how to put your feelings into words.
"You don't like to be compared to Bruce," she filled in, making your complex emotions into something so simple and easy to slap over what it truly was.
A small dry laugh came from you. "I don't think anyone does," you said, which she nodded to, agreeing with you.
It was true though, you didn't like to be compared to Bruce and maybe it wasn't because you two were complete opposites. Bruce and you had things in common but you knew one thing as total fact.
Batman was nothing like you and you were nothing like him.
213 notes · View notes
sleeplesssmoll · 3 months
Note
So I've been reading the traces recently and came across a line that seems like it should be important to well at least something but I haven't seen anyone talk about it? Here's the line btw:
Tumblr media
It's specifically the "you're imitating the Messiah" Part that's like making me think. So uhh yeah I just wanted to share it.
Sorry if it's a strange thing to send I wanted to see someone else's opinion on it.
Reverse1999 loves to put Vertin in the position of Jesus. We saw this at the end of Chapter 2 where she was sitting in Judas's position and Schneider was in Judas's spot. Arcana calls her "the savior" and describes Vertin in an almost biblical manner whenever she's interacting with her. Even her little Suitcase is called an "ark". However, this instance is a bit different.
Disclaimer, Idk much about religion but I did try to look this bit up because it reminded me of something too. If anyone has more experience in the matter pls feel free to correct me or add on. I will do my best but I might get stuff wrong.
Note: Vertin was placed in a coma because the Foundation wanted her out of the way. This is relevant to the theory.
Here is what I found:
Source
The Jewish high priests were apparently looking for a reason to get rid of Jesus. As the revolutionary leader of a new movement that challenged the religious status quo, he posed a threat to their power. But they couldn’t just take action themselves. Ultimately, sentencing was up to Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor at the time. And they needed to provide him with a legal justification for Jesus to be crucified. The trial of Jesus A number of witnesses testified against Jesus before the Sanhedrin, a Jewish court. Although the Gospel of Mark says many of them gave false testimony, Jesus didn’t confirm or deny their accusations. In fact, Jesus remained quiet through most of his trial, refusing to respond to the charges leveled against him. But he did respond to one question. Asked, “Are you the Messiah?” he seemed to admit that he was. Caiaphas, the chief priest, called this blasphemy. And then the others agreed that Jesus should be put to death. 
This trial parallels Vertin's story.
Moving on, this trail is in the chapter where Madam Z is playing ping-pong while trying to convince her friend to vote for her decision. The whole thing is an analogy to referring to how Vertin started off as the simple Timekeeper who kept records of the end of eras and now she plays this pivotal role that is rocking Foundation's core. She is the real ping-ping ball being batted between two factions of the Foundation. She has no say in the matter because she is now an object in a bigger game. Her fate relies on the people around her. Poor little Vertin is always a pawn in someone else's game. I highlighted some bits in red from the trail posted below that helped me put it together in my head. You can see it if you click "Keep reading." I hope this helps!
Also, thanks for giving me a chance to really look at this. I glossed over it the first time but the scene is even more intense now and I have a deeper appreciation for it. Any corrections or additions are welcome cause I'm out of my depth here.
Source: Chapter 4-16 Ball Game
Ping, pong. Ping, pong. Ping pong ping pong ping, pong. Ping. Pong.
An imitation show?
Yes, an imitation show. A ball imitation show, little thing.
You're imitating the Messiah, while I'm imitating an orange ball made of plastic.
Being pushed back and forth by two rackets, I have nowhere else to go. Once they apply a force on me, I can't help bouncing to the sky. 
You can see how the air flows across my dry, wrinkled skin ...
Oh, what a coincidence! Aren't you in the same situation as mine now!
Ha! Look at your frowning face-
Your face wrinkles from the eyebrows to the nose tip, but people can barely see those light furrows. We know what that means. You have a poker face, and it's never your fault.
But for now, your face is not the thing that matters. Well, maybe for someone it is, but still, it's not. You know what really matters?
The game! Yes, it's the game, of course the game matters!
Everyone loves the game. They gather at the stadium, yelling or roaring vehemently. They choose one team to become its fan and spend good money on a team uniform or an autographed ball.
Yet, it's just a ball. You see where I'm coming from?
Just a ball. Its outline, a circle, could be found in any geometry textbook and anywhere in this world. When the first hominid picked up a coconut and threw it to the sky-and caught it—and threw it—and caught it-and threw it again, when she felt joy and yelped, had she ever thought of the future?
The future where a simple ball has become so complicated and enchanting, now we call it the present.
Complicated and enchanting?
Hahahahahaha! Yes, sure! Complicated and enchanting!
Use your silly and smart head to think about this ball game carefully.
The complex scoring rules, the harsh requirements for reactive agility, the countless possible foul points ... Your fingers, your wrists, and arms, a correct way of using them will lead to victory!
What matters more is, like every ball game, it focuses on how you serve the ball and hitting it back.
It's not an easy job as it sounds. When you are in the game, you need to concentrate. Where will the ball come from, and how will you return it to your opponent-you need to figure that out within half a second.
Use your power in a proper way, move your feet in a stable pace, inhale and exhale at the right timings.
Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong. Ping. Pong...
The sound will last forever and ever until that bouncing little thing falls to either side of the court.
27 notes · View notes
ailingwriter · 10 days
Text
The type of symmetry exhibited by echinoderms has been constantly bouncing back and forth like a ping pong ball.
First, their ancestors were radially symmetrical, like most life. It was decent enough.
Then the ancestors of modern echinoderms decided to try bilateral symmetry a shot. It seemed like a good deal, and all the other deuterostomes were doing it.
But then, they decided 'Y'know what, radial symmetry was better actually,' so they all became radially symmetrical again, but it was this weird hipster radial symmetry with five parts, idk.
But then the SEA PIG decided 'I take it back, Imma be bilaterally symmetrical AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME.'
MAKE UP YOUR GODDAMN MINDS.
13 notes · View notes
fooltofancy · 2 months
Text
bouncing back and forth between being too broke and too scared to commission like the world's saddest ping pong ball
9 notes · View notes
Text
drawn arrows unseen
part 22 (the end) / previous installments/tags
Mason finds what he’s looking for in the game room by the hotel pool. The net’s a little crooked, but it’ll do.
“Ping pong?” Connor looks incredulous at the sight of the table. 
“Let’s fucking go.” Mason tests a paddle against the heel of his hand. He drapes his suit jacket over the nearby foosball table.
“Okay.” Connor rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Mason can’t tell if he's willing to cooperate because he wants to play, or because he's happy to be doing something the Coyotes don’t expect. “Your serve.”
“You can have it.” Mason bounces the ball across the table to him.
Connor lets it deflect off his paddle back to Mason. “You won last.”
“In Edmonton?” Mason can’t hide the surprise in his voice. He doesn’t remember that.
“...Yeah.” Connor gets a sour look on his face.
Mason serves. The silence of the empty game room fills with the tick-tock of the ball in play. Connor smashes it to Mason’s off hand, and Mason slides on his dress shoes just in time to catch it on his backhand. Connor groans, and Mason pictures him in his Team Canada shirt in Edmonton, chirping Mason. That’s what he wants to remember from that tournament. Not everything that happened after.
Connor’s up after three games, watching every volley with laser blue eyes. Mason manages to take the fourth game, tying it up 2-2 to prolong the match. It’s a relief. He doesn’t know what happens after it ends.
The fifth game is back and forth the whole way. When it’s tied up 10-10, Connor kicks into a new gear. Mason recognizes it. He’s got that gear too. The tie score passes 11 and creeps up to 20 and beyond, the intensity increasing every time they trade points.
Mason finally claws his way up by one and serves for game point. The volley goes on for what feels like forever, the most ferocious ping pong Mason’s ever played in his life, both of them suspended in a space where the only thing in the world is the little white ball bouncing between them.
Connor lobs it deep into Mason’s territory. As the ball falls to the table in slow motion, Mason considers sending it back easy, letting the game go on, preserving Connor’s chance to win.
But Mason’s done repressing his instincts. He slams the ball back at Connor with everything that’s in him, all of the anger and shame and desperation. The game winner careens off Connor’s end of the table and disappears over a couch on the other side of the room. Mason spikes his paddle to the floor and throws up his arms in a celly. 
“Fuck!” Connor clenches his fists and looks up at the ceiling. Mason knows three calming breaths when he sees them. He waits, picking up his paddle and setting it gently on the table.
Connor exhales one final time and levels his head. His face is relaxed. Mason’s heart ticks back up to ping pong speed as Connor studies him from the other side of the net.
Connor walks around the table slowly. “I thought you were going to let me win.”
Suddenly Mason understands why he didn’t. “I’m not gonna do that anymore,” he says, as Connor passes the net. 
“You never did.” Connor reaches the edge of the table and turns into Mason’s space. 
“I mean in general.” The hard edge has worn off Connor’s scent. Mason’s head goes fuzzy, making it hard to find the words he knows he has to say. “Decide for you. I’m not going to make your choices.” Connor comes closer and closer, and finally he’s close enough that Mason can whisper. “I’m sorry.”
Connor tips up his chin. He wants to be kissed, and Mason wants to kiss him, and the force of their collision sends the ping pong table skidding across the floor. “Upstairs,” Connor gasps, as if his scent isn’t already telling Mason that.
[Friends, the beauty of a campfire story is that I do not have to spend two months sweating out every sentence of a perfectly written sex scene. Imagine I wrote it that way, though. Imagine I wrote you a sex scene that beautifully encapsulated the central theme of Mason’s belief that he needs to protect Connor from the full force of his desire, and Connor’s refusal to let Mason do that. Imagine the beautiful prose with which I would tell you of Mason approaching Connor gently, worshipfully, spreading his thick thighs apart and burying his face in Connor’s concentrated scent, Connor’s slick on his lips, coating his tongue. Imagine that I then subtly changed the pacing of the sentence structure for a sense of urgency around Connor’s insistence that this is not what he wants, he wants Mason, all of Mason, inside him, hard and fast and now. Imagine that I, somehow, came up with a creative and meaningful way to write a knotting scene that fully conveyed the depth of pleasure and relief experienced by both parties after 21 installments of this story. You can imagine sex tears if you want, your call.]
Afterwards, Connor rests his head on Mason’s chest, and in the dark of a hotel room filled with their intertwined scents, Mason finally admits to picking up the scent of ice and cedar back at U18 worlds. Instead of calling him a creep, Connor calls him an idiot for thinking it was their room that smelled like a rink.
He liked Mason, all the way back then, and the only thing that made presenting as an omega bearable was the thought that maybe that’s why he’d been drawn to Mason’s scent in the chaos of the gold medal celebration. He thought maybe Mason was going to be an alpha, maybe they were compatible. That’s what made it so confusing and disappointing and infuriating when Mason didn’t tell him about presenting, when Mason didn’t admit he could scent Connor, when Mason let Trevor Zegras wear his fucking jersey. Connor pinches Mason, hard.
Mason lets Connor get away with it. He apologizes, which is easy with his omega wrapped in his arms and the bond between them humming like steel. When the conversation falls quiet, he finally gives into his curiosity. “What do I smell like?”
Connor shifts against him. “I don’t know. Someplace wild. Like the mountains at night.” He pauses like he’s trying to come up with the right words. “I don’t want to say animal, but like a place where bear and elk have been. The mountains at night,” he repeats, like that’s the phrase he’s been saying to himself. “It made me want to run away.”
Mason’s arms have been tightening around Connor. He forces himself to loosen them. “Run away from me?”
“No.” Connor tightens his arm over Mason, tucks his fingers under Mason’s side. “Run away to whatever that place was. To wherever you were.”
While Connor showers, Mason puts on a hotel robe and turns on ESPN. It feels normal. Their whole history is hotel rooms. Their future will be too. Connor will go to San Jose in the morning. Mason has a beast of an East Coast road trip next week. They’ll see each other at the all-star break. They’ll see each other in April for a long offseason. Maybe the offseason will be shorter, someday. It will have to be, for any team with Connor in his prime. The thought of the seasons stretching out until one of them retires – fifteen years, maybe twenty, maybe more – hurts. But it hurts like a postsurgical healing throb, not like the nauseating wrongness of a broken bone.
Connor emerges from the bathroom wearing the other robe. He sits against the headboard next to Mason. “How are we supposed to do this?”
“Same as we always have, I guess.” Mason puts an arm around him. “With more of this.” He scents Connor’s damp hair and kisses the top of his head.
“Okay.” Connor presses closer and tucks his face in Mason’s neck. “Italy,” he says against Mason’s skin.
“Milan,” Mason says. “2026.”
“Wrong.” Connor lifts up his head, delighted. “It’s Rome.”
“I said 2026.” As if Mason would miss an easy one. “Milan’s where we’ll be for the Olympics.”
39 notes · View notes
justcallmefox89 · 25 days
Text
Cinderfella's Adventures in Cordonia - Chapter Twenty
An AU of The Royal Romance with a male MC and a bisexual prince.
Masterlist
Drake and Liam learn more about Callum's past.
Tumblr media
“What’s going on, Pops?” Callum asks again.
“You’re back earlier than I expected,” Niall answers, shooting a dirty look at Donny.
The blonde man shrugs nonchalantly, taking a pack of cigarettes from his jack pocket and tapping it against the palm of his hand.
“Yeah… turns out there wasn’t a problem at the club after all.”  Callum narrows his eyes at his father.
Niall innocently widens his eyes.  “I must have misunderstood.”
“Then you just mistakenly let yourself into my apartment while I was out?”
“I do own the building, Callum,” Niall sniffs.  “Technically I can go into any apartment I want to, with or without your permission.”
Donny lets out a slightly breathy and panicked, “Oh shit.”
Drake’s eyes bounce back and forth between the men like ping-pong balls and Liam sits rigidly next to him, tension evident in every line of his body.
“That’s how we’re going to do this?  Seriously, Pops?  You didn’t try that line on me when I was sixteen but you’re doing it now?”
“You had better sense at sixteen,” Niall snaps.  “Back then you weren’t jumping at the chance to ruin your life every time a hot piece of ass smiled at you.”
“I need a smoke,” Donny suddenly announces loudly.  He points at Liam and Drake.  “You two.  Come with me.”
Confused, Liam blurts out, “We don’t smoke.”
“You can hold my lighter,” Donny replies, tugging the pair to their feet.
Ioan rises from his chair.  “I think I’ll join you -”
“You better keep your ass in that chair, old man,” Callum grinds out between clenched teeth.
Stunned at his grandson’s tone, Ioan plops back into his seat, and Donny seizes the opportunity to hustle Drake and Liam out onto the balcony.  He manages to slam the sliding glass door closed just as the shouting starts.
“What the actual FUCK were you two thinking?” Callum yells.
Donny lights a cigarette and inhales deeply, letting the pale grey smoke slowly curl out of his nostrils.  “I hope the two of you are pleased with yourselves.”
“Us?”  Liam gapes, pointing between himself and Drake.  “You think this is our fault?”
“Isn’t it?”  He takes another drag.  “Callum was fine, happy again.  You two are back in his life less than three days and him and his father are at each other’s throats with Ioan snapping at their heels.”
Liam’s cheeks flush and he scowls.  “The MacKenzie family’s dysfunction has nothing to do with us.”
“It has everything to do with you, cupcake.”
Drake braces his forearms on the railing that runs around the perimeter of the balcony.  “I didn’t mean for anything like this to happen.  I never wanted to cause Callum any problems.”
He sounds so miserable that Donny takes pity on him.  “I know you didn’t mean to, kid.  But goddamn… why couldn’t you just stay away?”
The voices from the living room get louder and the three men wince in unison.
“He’s going back with you,” Donny says, flicking his cigarette butt onto the ground and crushing it with the toe of his boot.
Liam sighs.  “He hasn’t made a decision one way or the other yet.”
“I know my son.  He’ll go.”
Drake and Liam exchange startled looks.
Donny chuckles at their shocked expressions.  “I’ve been raising that boy for nearly thirty years, and I’ve been with Niall for almost as long.  Callum’s my son.”
“We didn’t realize…” Drake trails off, embarrassed.
“Did Callum ever tell you about his mother?”
“From the way he phrased it I assumed she died when he was very young,” Liam says slowly.
Donny barks out a harsh laugh.  “Fuck.  That woman will still be alive when there’s only cockroaches roaming the earth.”
Drake’s mouth drops open and Liam frowns uncomfortably.
Taking in their shocked expressions Donny sighs and lights another cigarette.  “That was probably unfair to Cassie.  We’ve always had a… complicated relationship.”
“So his mom is alive?” Drake asks.
Donny shrugs.  “He’s never met her.  She showed up once when he graduated high school.  Niall almost had an aneurysm.  She futzed around a bit, said she wanted to finally meet her son.  But in the end she did what she always does and disappeared before anything could happen.  Thank god we didn’t tell the kid anything and get his hopes up.”
“How did… How long… um…” Liam flounders, unable to articulate the potentially offensive question.
“You wanna know how I fit in to all this?”  Donny grins around the cigarette in his mouth.
Drake and Liam nod in unison.
“I met Niall when I started working for Ioan, back when the old man was still running everything.  I was young, stupid, pissed at the world.  Dishonorably discharged from the military.  At the beginning I was just supposed to be muscle at a few of the different strip joints, but for whatever reason Ioan took me under his wing.  Brought me into his home, started teaching me about the business.”
“Is that when you started dating?” Liam asks.
Donny laughs and rolls his eyes.  “Fuck no.  Back then there was no telling me I was anything but straight.  But we got to be friends and if I had the occasional thought about how good his ass looked then I would just ignore it.  I knew Niall batted for both teams and it never bothered me… but back then I just wasn’t ready to accept certain things about myself, you know?”
“Oh, I know.”  Drake gives Liam a slightly dirty look from the corner of his eye and the king’s cheek flush a soft pink.
“Anyway, one night we’re out with some of our other friends doing a bar crawl and we wind up at this dive that has live music.”  Donny stubs out his cigarette on the balcony railing.  “Cassie’s band was playing that night.  I hate to say anything nice about the woman but she’s a fuckin’ stunner and goddamn talented to boot.  Long story short Niall starts chattin’ her up after her band has finished for the night and they start seein’ each other.  This goes one for a few months, and Niall and I started drifting apart a little.  I didn’t really understand it then, but looking back I was jealous of Cassie and seeing them together… hurt.”
“I get that,” Drake murmurs softly, looking down at his feet.  With a sad smile, Liam silently reaches out and takes his hand.
“So after they’ve been together a few months Niall gets picked up on some charges related to uh… a few substances that were being sold out of a few of the clubs.  Gets sentenced to five to ten.  Cassie disappears.”  Donny rolls his eyes. “Me and Ioan weren’t all that surprised, she was never all that serious about Niall and it’s hard enough being in a relationship with somebody on the inside when you’re committed.  We moved on thinkin’ she was gone for good.  Niall being locked up was hell on the old man, and I wasn’t taking it much better, but we were doing the best we could.  Then about eight months into Niall’s sentence, I get a phone call from Cassie.”
Drake and Liam lean forward, drawn in by the older man’s story.
“So it’s two in the morning, and I’ve got this chick I can’t stand calling me at the club I was working at that night.  I was ready to tell her to piss off, but she starts crying, telling me she’s at the hospital and I’m the only one she can call for help.  And me being a total fucking sucker I went to the hospital because I knew that’s what Niall would’ve wanted.  I show up and she’s in a hospital room, lying in bed, holding a fucking baby of all things.”
“Callum,” Liam says quietly.
“Bingo.”  Donny shoots a pair of finger guns towards him.  “At first I didn’t know what the hell to think.  Honestly I just wanted to leave her there and pretend I never saw a thing.  She breaks down crying again, saying she doesn’t know what to do, didn’t know who to call since Niall’s in prison, she’s scared of Ioan, she needs help, and on and on.”
“Wait, why was she scared of Ioan?” Drake asks.
“You’ve met the old man, yeah?  Are you scared of him now?”
Without hesitation Drake and Liam both nod.
“Now imagine him thirty years ago and pretend you’ve been hiding the fact that you were pregnant with his only son’s child.”
The pair shudder.    
Donny nods.  “Exactly.  I didn’t know what the fuck to do anymore than she did, and I told her so.  She begged me to stay with her just a little while, asks me to hold the kid so she could take a shower and get some things situated with the hospital.  I didn’t have the heart to say no.  I mean, the poor girl had been alone in the hospital with a brand new baby for three days at that point, I figured that was the least I could do for her.  So she gives me the kid, just this squishy little thing, and I settle down with him while she goes to clean up.  He was the cutest fucking thing, all fuckin’ chubby baby rolls and this thick, curly black hair.  I didn’t mean to but as some point I fell asleep holding him.  Next thing I know, Callum is screaming his lungs out and I got a pissed off nurse shaking me awake asking me where Cassie was.”
“And where was Cassie?” Liam asked.
“Fuck if I know.  As soon as I fell asleep she grabbed her shit and got the hell out of dodge.”
“She just left her baby with you?  Without telling you where she was going?  She didn’t even really know you!” Drake exclaims.
“I feel like we’ve already established she’s not a good mom, kid.”  Donny gives him an exasperated look.  “So I’ve got Callum, fresh out of the oven, Niall’s locked up, and I don’t have the first fucking clue how to find Cassie.  I’m only 28, living in a shitty apartment, spending nearly all my free time drunk, high, or both.”
Drake starts to speak, hesitates, then powers on.  “Why didn’t you just call Ioan and let him take care of it?”
“Siobhan, Callum’s grandma, was fighting a losing battle with breast cancer.  Ioan wasn’t handling it well… didn’t seem fair to add something else to the bullshit he was dealing with.  He wasn’t in the best headspace then anyway.  Siobhan was the only thing he cared about, only thing he could focus on.  Even if I wanted to let him have Callum I don’t think he would’ve been able to take care of him.  So I told the hospital I was Callum’s father, signed the birth certificate and everything.  Cassie hadn’t even named the kid yet, so I had to do that too.”
“You named Callum?”  Liam arches an eyebrow in question.
Donny’s cheeks turn pink and he squirms in place, an oddly endearing gesture for a man in his fifties.  “I knew Niall would want to honor his dad in some way, so the middle name was easy.  Then I just thought about what name I’d want to use if Niall and I would ever… you know,” he mumbles.
Liam and Drake share a conspiratorial smirk.  “That’s adorable,” Liam says.
Donny coughs, looking slightly uncomfortable.  “Anyways.  The nurses gave me a crash course in fatherhood then shoved me out the door.  I waited a few days before I told Ioan and Siobhan… I wanted some time to think on what I was going to do.  I brought Callum to their house, told them everything that happened, and said I wanted to take care of Callum until Niall got out.  Siobhan wasn’t on board at first, and I don’t blame her.  I was young and stupid, never taken care of a baby before, didn’t know a damn thing about kids.  But for whatever reason, I knew I was meant to protect that baby.  Ioan was relieved, in a way, I think.  God only knows why but he trusted me with his grandson, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to repay him for that.”
“What did Niall have to say about everything when he found out?” Drake asks.
“Oh he was pissed,” Donny laughs.  “He would’ve taken care of Cassie if she’d told him she was pregnant, made sure she had everything she needed.  But the fact that she just abandoned Callum without a word was the thing that really rustled his jimmies.  He would’ve forgiven anything else but that I think.”
“How did that work though?” Liam asks delicately.  “With Niall being… indisposed?”
“You can say he was in prison, Your Majesty.”  Donny smirks.  “Niall didn’t want Callum to see him in that place, so they didn’t actually properly meet until Callum was six.  Niall wrote letters every week, and I read them to him.  Things got a little more complicated when Callum started to talk and then he had a whole lot of questions.  I always made sure he knew that Niall was his dad, but I never let him forget just how much I loved him too.  The adjustment period after Niall got out was rough on all of us.  Callum didn’t want to leave me, and Niall didn’t want to be away from his son.  Understandably.  So Niall got a bigger apartment and Callum and I moved in with him.”
“So is that when you and Niall got together?”
Donny grins at Drake question.  “Not quite.  By that time I had pulled my head out of my ass enough to realize that I wasn’t quite as straight as I wanted to believe.  It was a couple more years before Niall and I got into a proper relationship.  But that is a story for another time.”
Donny sighs and runs his hands through his hair.  “Look, at the end of the day Callum is going to do whatever he wants to do… no matter what me, Niall, or Ioan have to say about it.  Just… just take care of my boy, ok?  Try not to hurt him any more than you absolutely have to.”
“I don’t… I never want to hurt Callum,” Liam protests.
“Are you still going to marry that girl you’re engaged to?”
Liam stay silent, anxiously gnawing on his lower lip.
“Then he’s going to be hurt,” Donny replies with a sad smile.  He looks through the sliding glass door into the living room, frowning.  “Shit.”
Drake and Liam whip around just in time to see Niall glare up at his son one last time before stalking out the front door, Ioan following closely behind him.  Callum tips his head back and his shoulders slump, but he quickly collects himself and moves into the kitchen.
“That went about as well as I thought it would,” Donny sighs.  “Give me a few minutes.”
Drake and Liam wait out on the balcony while Donny says goodbye to Callum.
“We’re being selfish,” Drake says eventually.
Liam glances over at him.  “Excuse me?”
“We have royally fucked up Callum’s life.”
“I see what you did there.”  The Cordonia king smirks over at his friend.
Drake shoves him away half-heartedly.  “Stop.  I’m being serious.  I wasn’t thinking about Callum when I dragged him back into this.  Not the way I should have.”
“I don’t understand.”
“When we got to New York all I was focused on was finding Callum again because I missed him.  Because I wanted to remind you that you could actually be with someone you loved instead of Madeline.  I didn’t think about what would happen to his life, how all of us being back together would affect him.”
“Considering how close the two of you have gotten I wouldn’t say our returning presence has been all bad.”
Drake blushes furiously.  “I...  That’s not…  Liam!”
“Just saying.”  Liam shrugs innocently. 
“What I meant was that I only considered how having Callum back would make our lives better, make us happier.  I didn’t even stop to think about what that would mean for his life here… with his family, and his job, and his other friends.  How can we ask him to leave all that for us again?  Especially when you’re still going through with the wedding to Madeline.”
Liam groans.  “Why do we keep having to go over this?  I have a duty, an obligation to Cordonia.  That doesn’t mean we can’t be together.  All three of us.”
“This!”  Drake smacks Liam’s chest.  “This right here is the problem!  Callum won’t be happy just being your affair on the side.”
“And you will be?” Liam challenges.
“Of course I won’t!  But if that’s the price I have to pay to be with you again I will.  Callum can’t do that though.”
Liam scowls.  “Can’t or won’t?”
“That’s not fair,” Drake sighs.
“What Callum’s asking isn’t fair either.”
“Callum actually isn’t asking you to do anything,” Drake points out.  “He only told you what he was willing and not willing to do given the circumstances.”
Liam falls silent, unable to come up with a reasonable counter argument.  The pair stare out at the bustling city streets for a while, each lost in their own thoughts.
Drake is the first one to break the silence.  “Liam, what are we going to do?”
@superharriet
@angelasscribbles
@kingliam2019
11 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media
Bouncing seismic waves reveal distinct layer in Earth's inner core Data captured from seismic waves caused by earthquakes has shed new light on the deepest parts of Earth’s inner core, according to seismologists from The Australian National University (ANU). By measuring the different speeds at which these waves penetrate and pass through the Earth’s inner core, the researchers believe they’ve documented evidence of a distinct layer inside Earth known as the innermost inner core -- a solid “metallic ball” that sits within the centre of the inner core. Not long ago it was thought Earth’s structure was comprised of four distinct layers: the crust, the mantle, the outer core and the inner core. The findings, published in Nature Communications, confirm there is a fifth layer. “The existence of an internal metallic ball within the inner core, the innermost inner core, was hypothesized about 20 years ago. We now provide another line of evidence to prove the hypothesis,” Dr Thanh-Son Phạm, from the ANU Research School of Earth Sciences, said. Professor Hrvoje Tkalčić, also from ANU, said studying the deep interior of Earth’s inner core can tell us more about our planet’s past and evolution. “This inner core is like a time capsule of Earth's evolutionary history – it’s a fossilised record that serves as a gateway into the events of our planet’s past. Events that happened on Earth hundreds of millions to billions of years ago,” he said. The researchers analysed seismic waves that travel directly through the Earth’s centre and “spit out” at the opposite side of the globe to where the earthquake was triggered, also known as the antipode. The waves then travel back to the source of the quake. The ANU scientists describe this process as similar to a ping pong ball bouncing back and forth. “By developing a technique to boost the signals recorded by densely populated seismograph networks, we observed, for the first time, seismic waves that bounce back-and-forth up to five times along the Earth’s diameter. Previous studies have documented only a single antipodal bounce,” Dr Phạm said. “The findings are exciting because they provide a new way to probe the Earth’s inner core and its centremost region.” One of the earthquakes the scientists studied originated in Alaska. The seismic waves triggered by this quake “bounced off” somewhere in the south Atlantic, before travelling back to Alaska. The researchers studied the anisotropy of the iron-nickel alloy that comprises the inside of the Earth’s inner core. Anisotropy is used to describe how seismic waves speed up or slow down through the material of the Earth’s inner core depending on the direction in which they travel. It could be caused by different arrangement of iron atoms at high temperatures and pressures or preferred alignment of growing crystals. They found the bouncing seismic waves repeatedly probed spots near the Earth’s centre from different angles. By analysing the variation of travel times of seismic waves for different earthquakes, the scientists infer the crystallised structure within the inner core's innermost region is likely different to the outer layer. They say it might explain why the waves speed up or slow down depending on their angle of entry as they penetrate the innermost inner core. According to the ANU team, the findings suggest there could have been a major global event at some point during Earth’s evolutionary timeline that led to a “significant” change in the crystal structure or texture of the Earth’s inner core. “There are still many unanswered questions about the Earth’s innermost inner core, which could hold the secrets to piecing together the mystery of our planet’s formation,” Professor Tkalčić said. The researchers analysed data from about 200 magnitude-6 and above earthquakes from the last decade. IMAGE....An earthquake in Alaska causing seismic waves to penetrate the Earth's innermost inner core. Credit: Drew Whitehouse, Son Phạm and Hrvoje Tkalčic. Credit: Drew Whitehouse, Son Phạm and Hrvoje Tkalčic.
58 notes · View notes
esotericfaery · 2 months
Text
Astrology Aspect Humour
Hehehe. Thank God/dess we never have to deal with just one aspect at a time! They’re all crazy!
Conjunction aspects are like: Dude, personal space! Well… Ok, we’re both here anyway, so let’s solve this problem.
Square aspects are like: Bounce off of my sharp edges, back and forth, then over there, back and forth; I hope that hurts a lot. And now, that’s it, slam yourself right into a corner and get caught, for extra wacky fun. You’ll fall out. Who knows when. I certainly don't give either a stationary or a flying fuck what happens next.
Opposition aspects are like: Be my ping-pong ball and get dizzy until you build up momentum and shoot out, with the energy for achievement.
Sextile aspects are like: All you need to do is a breath, do the thing and it will easily work.
Trine aspects are like: Brahhhhh… I’m a pyramid! Wanna meditate? Or not. Whatever. Something lucky will happen for you even if you do nothing.
7 notes · View notes