#mars is next on the chopping block

[eldritch-spouse]

Now I want something. I want admin to spank Morell.

I know a regular piglet wouldn't even make him flinch BUT ADMIN, Admin is enhanced with Krulu's strength. So Admin could make Morell moan for sure.

[Fem reader.]

TW: Dubious consent to no consent; Abusive spanking; Blood; Humiliation; Physical and mental abuse.

You're not sure why your Lord approved of this idea so readily.

You wouldn't even call it a proper punishment plan for Morell's latest minor infraction, it was more of a vaguely intrusive thought that surfaced in your mind. To bend the large, proud monster over your knee and have him lose some of that attitude.

Krulu immediately gave you the greenlight to do it, with some manner of glee even, somewhere between genuine anticipation and humor.

You've come to learn your higher seems to sometimes prefer humiliating punishments over the physically painful ones. It leaves a much bigger imprint on the soul than the marring of flesh, he tells you.

Who are you to question his absolute wisdom?

Besides, it'd be lying to say that you aren't looking forward to Morell's reaction. For as rowdy and assertive as he can be with his coworkers, the chef has always had immense respect for you, being one of the first to pipe down and get in line with new directives or goals. It's something you admire in him.

So, surely, he's not going to flip out now is he?

The kitchen is quiet. Sterilized even. You had the bobbles take care of it before leaving. Part of you considered doing this in the warehouse, in front of the pigs he'll have to look in the eyes when the time to slaughter them comes. But that's already too much sadism for a slap on the wrist measure, isn't it?

No. You'll do it in the kitchen, a much more intimate environment.

Sitting on one of the restaurant chairs you dragged inside, you're roughly in the center of the large room itself, next to the main chopping block, legs crossed. Sharpened eyes study the previous work of the bobbles under Morell's hold. His training is efficient, you'll give him that.

It's taking him a while to come back in. Fact of the matter is he's not even in this floor, most likely. That's part of the problem, how often he's leaving the restaurant for extended periods of time. A frown slowly graces your features, nails tapping rhythmically on the iron legs of the chair. Tsk tsk.

You're considering additional punishment methods for his extended work post abandonment when the telltale squeak of boots on tiles hits your ears. He's in a hurry.

The kitchen doors blast open, Morell puffs with physical exertion and looks scratched in several areas, bits of... Gravel? Rock? Cling to his arms and apron, which he dusts off rapidly, opening his mouth to presumably start barking orders at his team of workers, except- He finally gathers enough wit to notice his actual surroundings.

Squinting, frowning, then finally spotting you. There's a short, vapid blink before he reacts.

" M- Admin, miss! " The shroom greets, nodding respectably before quickly closing the doors behind his large figure.

The monster looks aggravated, guilty. He obviously knows you'd never like seeing him deviating during work hours. You're willing to bet he's gulping behind that thick pink scarf. Morell scratches at his forearm and impulsively keeps dusting himself off, waiting. " Can I get'cha anythin' ta eat? "

" Morell. " You smile, sarcasm all but dripping off your words. " Pleasure seeing you here, for once. "

The mushrooms monster's hands rise immediately in a sort of placation attempt almost unbecoming of his large stature. " Ah know- I know it looks bad, miss, but it ain't like ah'm leavin' the floor ta screw 'round- "

" Did I ask for excuses? " You cut in.

Morell pipes down instantly. " No ma'am, ah'm sorry. "

And this is why he stands out to you. His obedience to authority figures. Morell has always been the kind of monster man who doesn't just bend for others at a whim. He's a stubborn bull of a guy, and all that's missing are the horns to furnish him. When with his coworkers, the shroom is rough and brutish, shooting them down the moment they attempt to mess with him, getting loud, in their faces, threatening them whenever they think they know better. When you first hired the chef, you wee already counting on having to use a sterner hand to keep him in line, and yet, since the very first day, he's regarded you with a courtesy and level of respect that's almost strikingly out of character compared to other sides of him.

Krulu shared this initial wonder too, finding it amusing that the shroom adapted extremely quickly to the roles he should play before you and your Lord. He knows better than to oppose you, sides with you, is very cooperative and available. Commendable qualities.

" I've always liked that about you. "

" ... Beg pardon? "

" How polite you are, without even having to be taught better. " Something you can't say for all.

In spite of the flattery, the chef doesn't relax. " Thank you, ma'am. "

Funnily enough, his accent sometimes takes a backseat in these moments too. Maybe because he's trying to speak like you? You could pick him apart all day, honestly.

" I don't want your apologies, I want you to know your punishment. "

He looks like he wants to desperately say something. Explain the situation, say that he's not at fault, that it can't be helped. You have an inkling of an idea of what might be wrong, more gargoyle shenanigans. Morell looks into your challenging hues and nods, bitterly swallowing any words. Fear flashes briefly in that dark canvas of a face.

It's not often he misbehaves enough to warrant punishments. The most he tends to get is a slap on the wrist for playing too much with the slaughter piglets.

" Of course, ma'am... "

Good boy.

" You're having issues dealing with the gargoyles again. "

Morell nods, hands over his chest and fingers tapping his elbows, the subject very quickly drawing a furious grimace from him.

" They're breaking in and taking meats, finished orders, body parts, sometimes even bobbles. "

Another nod.

" I would be angry too. But you know what I wouldn't do, Morell? Take it upon myself to go out there and hunt them down, when there's already someone who can do that, employed in these very grounds. "

The tapping turns into a tight grip.

" Why not come to Belo about this? A power such as him, who has wings to pursue them with flight, who holds a weapon capable of obliterating them with little effort, whose job is precisely to maintain order here. "

" Buh-! "

" Hush. " Your warning is heeded. " Don't step outside your role, Morell. Perhaps you have the strength to take one or two down, but your effectiveness lies here, in the restaurant. That- " You motion past the kitchen doors. " Does not concern you. "

He sighs quietly, rolling his shoulders. " You're right, ma'am. "

" Good. I'm glad we could get on the same page. " You grin, uncrossing your legs and patting a stocking clad thigh. " Now, for your punishment this time, I want you to bend over my knees. "

Oh. This is precious.

At first, the cook makes a face like he's certain he didn't really hear right, giving himself a few seconds to see if he can decipher what you really must have said. And then, slowly, it starts to sink in, the realization isn't the only thing that sinks however, that expression falling into a somber and wide-eyed look, questioning you. Wounded even.

And hat's how you know it's going to be effective.

" Ah... Come again? "

Oh, the hopelessness.

" You heard me, Morell. " There's no doubt he did.

Another few stunted seconds pass where he seems to be mourning his dignity, presumably. Your eyes glint with cruel anticipation.

" ... Do I hav'ta, miss? "

So polite. Adorable, even. He's smart enough to understand he doesn't really have a choice, somewhere between bargaining and pleading.

Suffocating the urge to giggle and kick your legs, you offer Morell an almost mocking solemn nod, as if it pained you too to be doing this. An open palm claps gently in your thigh, hurrying him.

The chef's face scrunches again, and if the skin directly under his cap weren't so dark, you would probably be able to spot the stress creases forming on his forehead. He shuts his eyes and takes a silent deep breath, reaching back to undo his apron. Morell takes his sweet time getting ready, and because he's been obedient thus far, you allow him those precious moments of peace. The desperation is such so that he even takes the time to fold his dirtied butcher's apron.

Finally, wearing only pants and boots, the monster stands before you, defeated before you've laid but a single finger upon him. Brilliant work.

" Knee. " You insist.

Slightly luminescent eyes scroll from his own massive figure to your much smaller one. " Ma'am... Ain't it gonna hurt? "

He knows better. He's seen better. The force and resilience bestowed upon you by your Lord knows hardly a limit. Morell could throw himself onto you, where as a normal human's bones would creak and shatter, you'd merely wonder how to best castigate him.

" I don't stutter, Morell. "

Boy, does that get him moving.

Somewhat awkwardly, the cook sinks to his knees. If his peculiar skin allowed it, you know he'd be covered in goosebumps when he angles himself across your legs. A tremor wracks his body, though you're quick to lower a hand on his broad back, encouraging the shroom to let his weight settle on your thighs.

A few seconds pass in that stillness. That delicious silence, the walls dripping anticipation and Morell radiating a level of mortification that has the spectator behind your eyes grinning with glee.

And then, as if gouging the right moment to lunge, you yank his pants and underwear down. The way Morell jumps could almost be compared to a frightened cat's leap, a tremor followed by this choked noise of embarrassment that all his coworkers would surely mock him over for eternity. The chef's rump perfectly fits his worked physique, yet there's an unmistakable softness there, an appealing shape, something Santi has openly admired before- To his own detriment, as such was quickly followed by a wooden spoon to the top of his head.

It's a nice ass, you'll admit. Shame he doesn't let anyone touch it.

Snickering at his panic, you soothingly rub a hand over his backside, feeling the give of his bizarre anatomy. Shroom monsters don't have the same type of skeletal structure humans do, their bodies are spongier in nature, yet by no means does that mean they're less sturdy. Humming peacefully, you take the time to squeeze over the spots that cover his blue hide, fondling the grown monster currently surrendered to you in thought.

Your forearm begins to sprout blackened veins, lovingly possessive growths that curl over your limb and encompass it, appropriate it. In a matter of seconds, Lord Krulu has transformed your hand into one of his, dark and deftly long fingers furnished with the claws of an apex predator. You raise it in the air with nothing but pride and adoration.

And oh, if Morell had any hope that your spankings would be tame, then it'd be a compliment to call him a fool.

Because when that same hand crashes down, the muted force of your god thunders across his entire body.

And he squeals.

Nicely done.

Both of you freeze. Your hand doesn't sting minimally, but the imprint immediately left on Morell's asscheek is a testament to the level of strength that was so effortlessly doled out.

No one moves for a second, the shock of that bizarre bleat being processed. You'd never guess a sizable monster like Morell could make such a noise, like a confused animal in pain.

The grin that crawls up your cheeks is sickening.

" What was that, Mori? Did one of your pigs escape? "

He's panting, quietly, but not subtly enough to miss.

" ... No. "

" No? "

" N-No miss. "

You snicker. " Alright, must have been my imagination. "

A tune is hummed serenely when your hand rises off his already overheated flesh, and the way the chef sucks in a desperate lungful of air is as riveting as it gets. But like Hell you'll give him the privilege of certainty, lowering said palm again with a deceitful gentleness, petting him, resting.

The next whack has spittle flying past grit teeth. He muffles part of the humiliating noise, at the cost of drooling on himself like a beast. Morell shivers atop you like a stuttering car engine. Krulu laughs.

" Honestly, I'm almost sad to be bruising a rump this pretty, Morell... " You muse, watching his cerulean hue steadily bleed into navy bruises that muddle his naturally glowing spots. " But it does make for an interesting sight. "

He stays quiet, and, in retaliation, you let that very same hand wander a little. Krulu's features recede to allow your human softness to brush over his skin, moving between the chef's legs. Instantly, there's a sudden tension in his entire body, more so than when he feared the spanking, and although you only teasingly feather over his asshole, Morell squirms in endless discomfort as if you had stuck pins and needles on him. Pressure against his perineum rips a grunt out of him, though reaching past the butcher's balls reveals the expected, he's entirely limp.

Something easily fixed.

" Part your legs a little. "

The shroom monster gulps, voice only a tad hoarse. " Admin, miss... "

Be it with the sharpest claws or bluntest nails, most men don't enjoy having their family jewels crushed. " Part. Your. Legs. "

He does, arms flexing in suffering until you relent. You don't need to warn him not to make you repeat yourself again. His reward is a much softer grasp around his manhood. And, with no pain to distract him, it's easy to get Morell to twitch in response, even if his fear is still palpable.

You stroke him until he hardens in your hand, something easy to achieve considering this sick fuck loves making his terrified little piggies worship his cock before he guts them into a dish. There's nothing like a human's touch to many of the workers here, and he's no exception. You can't help lick your lips when he starts silently rocking the slightest amount into your motions, soft sighs leaving his slowly relaxing form. Goading him further into this state of mindless pleasure, you offer him slightly faster friction, until he's properly bucking into your hand, ruffling groans of enjoyment.

He could never have spotted the spare arm sprouting from your back, could never see its dark length extend in the air-

Before it slammed down with enough force to rattle the skeleton out of anyone.

" HHHRK- "

You laugh, loud and jovial, this childish cackle ringing through the kitchen at your Master's impatient and cruel swat. Poor little Morell jolts and groans openly, the growing wave of pleasure interrupted and now intermingled with shock. His confused mind struggles to process the difference between pleasure and pain, lumping both together in a way that has him throbbing.

He seems to still at his own body's response.

Perfection.

You don't cease pumping his cock when the third arm lifts again, forcing the chef to experience both extremes of sensation when he's spanked again. He spasms uselessly, you bet his eyes are bulging by now.

Time to force him to think.

Whack

" What area of The Clergy's Eye have you been assigned to? "

" Tha- Kitchen! " He struggles, huffing.

Whack

" Where shall you stay when working then? "

More confused twitching in your hand. " Kh- Kitchen! "

SMACK

" Are you going to leave it again to do things that don't concern your station? "

" NnNO! "

The pace of your hand quickens, yet so does the your Master's rightful penance. Morell's bruised, indigo-tinted behind starts blooming into shades of abused purple. Tattoos of Krulu's divine hand furnish it nicely. You have no doubt this monster will sleep on his stomach for the following week.

Thwack thwack THWACK

" Will I have to do this again, Morell? "

He sobs, a real ugly sob that he quickly tries to suck back in, making you swiftly lean down to spot... Ah, the first few tears falling on the tiles. Good.

" No- No please- " And yet he still leaks precum like a faucet. What's going through that head right now?

Pleasure, pain, fear, regret, shame that reaches the skies.

Your Lord generously offers.

" You learn fast, I'm sure I won't have to discipline you again, right? "

The chef shakes like a leaf, yet there's no denying he's close to orgasm. His legs flex from more than just pain now. " Y- Yes, ma'am! "

CRACK

" Though I'd say you're enjoying it if I didn't know better. "

He makes a sound somewhere between a whine and a blubbered wail. " No- 'M not, please- " It's the most pathetic thing you've ever heard coming from him.

" Mhm, okay then, I believe you. "

The next set of unrelenting spanks makes even you cringe, Krulu's force jostling not just the fully grown monster but yourself as well. It's actually a little exciting to witness. Spots where Krulu's claws intentionally caught onto the tender flesh turn into depraved welts, droplets of blood flying out with each merciless motion, spraying the snow-tiled ground and even yourself.

Morell screams, wails, shrieks like his arms are getting ripped out their sockets. It's a symphony of panicking pain that hardly lets him breathe in between each tormenting snap and quick pump. He makes the mistake of sucking too much air into his lungs at a time, then starts coughing and hiccupping hopelessly.

The moment your Lord halts is when your fervent motions take the stage, and Morell, tortured, oversensitive and disoriented, lasts less than five seconds before throbbing hard and shooting ropes all over your fingers. You pump his cock throughout the entire orgasm, milking it, making a mess that you then wipe on the inside of his thigh, letting his cum-soaked length rest.

Another pause stretches for a long few moments where everyone is winding down. And, as adrenaline seeps out the mushroom monster's pores, he breaks.

Totally limp upon you, Morell attempts to fruitlessly hide his face behind broad arms while his sniffling and gasping escalates into the most defeated, utterly humiliated sobbing there is. He struggles with breathing properly, scratching his own throat as tears splatter steadily on the ground, keening whines bubbling out of the still shaking man. In his despair, he tries to huddle closer to you, tries to fold himself into a ball even with your legs in the way.

You don't know if it's your Lord's enjoyment or your own, but the view sends a pulse of arousal straight up your cunt, cheeks heating.

" There there... " You murmur, rubbing a comparatively cool hand around the edges of his punished skin. The way he tenses and tries to push his sobbing behind a tightened jaw is adorable. " It's all over now. "

The trembling doesn't stop, but the butcher manages to quiet his own wailing within a few minutes. Tears still drip onto the ground.

A few taps get him to move off your legs, but Morell quickly finds out changing positions is torturous, sharp burning stings eliciting choked grunts and heaves from the monster. He settles, embarrassingly, for laying almost on his stomach, prostrated before you on the ground.

Grinning, so wet you can feel your panties soaking, you push the chair away and sit on the ground next to the recovering monster, pulling his face onto your lap and petting that large cap of his.

Morell chokes, clinging onto your clothes. You didn't think he'd break this hard, but it's a lovely reaction.

" 'M sorry... 'M-... Sorry... "

And, as you study his sorry state, you can't help but smile warmly. Bruised ass darker than night, blood still spilling, half-hard cum-coated dick out, arms and face wet with tears, grasping onto you for dear life...

You wouldn't mind doing this more often.

#Morell oc #mellsfern #terato #monsterfucker #terato tag #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #monster x human #not sfw #minors dni

[court-artist-under-the-stars]

Up next on the chopping block is @same-pic-of-mars-everyday and either @the-real-uranus (or @same-pic-of-uranus-everyday depending on your religion /j) or @same-pic-of-neptune-everyday depending on, like, a coinflip I guess (Uranus is decidedly more femme and Neptune is decidedly more masc imo, but nothing’s set in stone just yet)

#celestial-same-picverse #celestial same picverse

[minecraftdreamer]

The sun dipped toward the horizon, bleeding warm gold into the cobalt sky. It was a quiet ending to a day that had known the simple labors - the chopping of wood, the carving of earth, the gentle placement of stone upon stone. The waters, brushed with strokes of light, shimmered beneath this vast dome, a world waking and sleeping in the ceaseless cycle.

On the shore, the trees bore witness in their silent vigil, their leaves whispering tales only the breeze could comprehend. No sails marred the ocean's canvas; the boats lay anchored, resting like dozing turtles by the scattered isles. The grandeur of the sun's retreat played before an empty theatre, save for the lone traveler who stopped and watched, acknowledging the day's quiet exit. Here was life, block by block, a testament to the craft and toil - and in the end, the simple beauty of a pixelated world, constantly renewing under the watchful eye of the setting sun.

It was a place of peace, of endings and beginnings, of relentless tides that washed the shores, bringing with them the promise of a new dawn, a new canvas to mold and shape. The traveler turned away, the light dimming against the squared horizon, carrying only the memory and the anticipation of the next day's creation.

#sunset #Minecraft #virtual landscape #serene #pixel art #digital world #ocean #trees #tranquility #adventure #AI Art #mineblr #Minecraft Dreams

[jerseydeanne]

Does Donald Trump Have Jeffrey Epstein’s List of Clients?

https://spectator.org/does-donald-trump-have-jeffrey-epstein-client-list/ Does Donald Trump Have Jeffrey Epstein’s List of Clients? Trump must know something, because the Swamp has done everything to the man short of assassinate him. Does Donald Trump have Jeffrey Epstein’s list of clients? The Deep State, Bureaucracy, Swamp, Administrative State, Military-Industrial Complex, Democrats, Media, Establishment Republicans, and crew are acting like Trump is Satan incarnate. At this point their loathing seems overwrought, to understate it. Every norm is being thrown out for a man who governed in a perfunctory way. At first, the hysteria seemed just like partisan hyperventilating. Now, the actions are shrill hysteria. Only one thing causes this kind of collective freakout in Washington, D.C.: fear. What about Donald Trump makes these people so afraid? Thus, I return to my first question: Does Donald Trump have Jeffrey Epstein’s list of clients? Trump must have the goods on these people, because they’ve done everything to the man short of assassinate him. Their actions since Trump first ran for office have been strangely “extra.” The Clintons, Hillary, cooked up the lie about Trump and Russia. She didn’t have to reach far to make up a story. It was basically the truth of the Bidens, down to the Russian hookers and drugs. This made-up story consumed the Deep State. The worst part was that it knew the whole thing was bogus from the beginning. It was simply a pretext to spy on someone those in D.C. didn’t have enough dirt on. Trump has continuously been under surveillance since. Why? Was Hillary just embarrassed by Trump’s retort at one of their presidential debates that “you’d be in jail”? It has to be more than that. The powers in D.C. won’t stop. As I wrote last week, they’re creating the very thing they want to destroy. D.C. elites have decided to commit to the destruction of America over one man. Ron DeSantis waits in the wings. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet about the FBI’s raid of Trump in his own state. Like other presidential hopefuls before him, DeSantis needs to understand something fundamental: The guns the Deep State is using against Donald Trump will be turned on any Republican in power or seeking power. DeSantis would do well to enthusiastically denounce what is happening to President Trump. He’ll be on the chopping block next. Deal with the internecine rivalry later. Meanwhile, Joe Biden has skedaddled from D.C., avoiding any questions about what he knows (hint: He knows what FBI Director Christopher Wray is up to, just as Attorney General Merrick Garland admitted to green-lighting the raid on Mar-a-Lago.) Just to throw a little extra contempt at the American people, Biden’s coke-headed adult kid, Hunter, was with him on Air Force One and is vacationing on the United States taxpayer’s dime even as he can’t pay his debts. Speaking of corrupt sons of political juggernauts, Nancy Pelosi’s brat Paul was on her business trip to Taiwan. Oh, you thought that she was being brave and courageous and confronting China? No, it was all about that scratch, and she’s passing the corruption baton off to Paul. Read more about that sordidness here. These utterly corrupt leaders are leading a fight against someone they deem an existential threat. The FBI raid on Trump’s home was not about some missing documents. No, this has to do with Jan. 6. As George Parry writes here, an indictment is coming. I have been on the record as saying that it will come after Labor Day Weekend. It will be for sedition or seditious conspiracy or something of that nature. There’s scant evidence for this, and there’s outright exculpatory evidence (why, for example, would Trump ask for extra security and defense the day before Jan. 6 if he was trying to overtake the government?), but that won’t matter to a D.C. jury. Further, even if, by some miracle, a fair D.C. jury could be found, it will be of zero consequence. The pain of the process is the point. Causing Trump to have to divide his energy, defend himself, get frustrated, make mistakes, lose, and fight distracts him and will distract the American people from the absolute debacle the Democrats have created of the economy. This will mean Trump can’t be on some states’ ballots because he’s indicted. That’s the point. The FBI spent 10 hours rifling through the president’s house. They raided Melania’s closet. They touched her things. They manhandled the president’s possessions. The violation is the point. The sensation of being unsafe everywhere is the idea. Trump likely has a rat amongst his closest confidants. And no wonder: Everyone in Trump’s orbit is running scared, confessing to sins uncommitted, making up stories, and straight-up lying to save themselves. The actions of the government are the use of raw, unbridled power against a political opponent. The mob has more respect. D.C. elites fear and loathe Donald Trump. They have decided to commit to the destruction of America over one man. These are the actions of people who believe that they have nothing to lose. They’re willing to bring down the whole Republic rather than be governed by Donald Trump. The only alternative to this explanation is that they’re this superficial, petty, and deranged. If it’s the latter, know this: Undermining the authority of the office undermines anyone in the office. That is, Biden may view Trump as a villain deserving every indignity and so commit all those possible because Trump has “earned” it. But you cannot degrade the office in this way without degrading yourself – especially when you hold the same office. The office of the presidency has been irrevocably diminished by actions like the ones Democrats and Republicans like Liz Cheney have taken. They have crapped where they eat, as it were. The only place America can go at this point is down. Far from saving America, Trump’s enemies are dismantling any remnant of trust in the various institutions they run. They’re openly raping the Republic to enrich themselves while hiring 87,000 armed mercenaries to enrich them further. This is end-of-the-Republic stuff, and yet Washington, D.C., elites hound Trump. What does Trump have on these people that they’re so terrified?

[etes-secrecy-post]

Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

• What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist.

⚠️NEW RULE!⚠️

⚠️ SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE! THIS SECRECY BLOG OF MINE IS FOR CLOSES FRIENDS ONLY!⚠️

• AND FOR MY CLOSES FRIENDS, DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD, JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

⚠️ SHARING LINKS, LIKE POSTS, REBLOG POSTS, STEALING MY SNAPSHOT PHOTOS/RECORDED VIDEOS/ARTWORKS (a.k.a. ART THIEVES) OR PLAGIARIZING FROM UNKNOWN TUMBLR STRANGERS WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED, RIGHT AWAY!⚠️

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…↓

My GTA V Online Random Snapshot/Screenshot/Video: Halloween Jack O' Lantern Pumpkins [11 to 22 collected] - Part 2 [Oct 17, 2022]

Hello, and welcome to my installment of Random Snapshot/Screenshot/Video in GTA V Online. Yup, I add ANOTHER part of my random media. Hehe!😁

• Hi, it's me! Back again for another collection Jack O' Lanterns in GTA V Online! 🎃🔍🙂 In part 1, I've explain about collecting jack o' lanterns along with their "tricks" & "treats" from picking it. So far, I've collect 22 pumpkins 👐🎃, which means only 178 pumpkins left. *Deep breath* Yup, this might take long...

BTW: If you didn't see my part 1, then please [CLICK ME!].

• And while I'm adding it, let's talk about "Hallucination". You see, when I collect pumpkins throughout the map, my character player's soul transfers to different animals as a "hallucination" (of sorts). And right now, I'm a pet/stray dog as my playable hallucination! Wow! 😲🧠➡️🐶 (I could quit the hallucination, but nah, I'll just keep playing! 🤣) And as a dog, I could bark while walking/running, and attack innocent citizens, like I'm doing it now before I've shot by the Los Vagos gang! Damn it! 😣 So much for that! Should I play Chop (the Rottweiler dog, and Franklin's pet [CLICK ME!]) next? Who knows? But, it was fun though!😁

Well, My collecting pumpkin continues! 🎃🔍🙂

Well, that’s all for now. And If you want to see my previous car prize, and more, then I’ll provide some links down below.↓

My GTA V Online: Winning ‘Prize Cars’ from the Lucky Wheel:

• GTA V Online - My 1st prize car: Overflod Tyrant [Feb 24, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 2nd prize car: Vapid FMJ [Mar 2,2021]

• GTA V Online - My 3rd prize car: HVY Nightshark [Mar 17, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 4th prize car: Grotti Itali RSX [Apr 5,2021]

• GTA V Online - My 5th prize car: Annis RE-7B [Apr 24, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 6th prize car: Ubermacht Revolter [May 3rd, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 7th prize car: Declasse Drift Yosemite [May 16th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 8th prize car: Overflod Entity XXR [Jun 9th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 9th prize car: Enus Windsor Drop [Jun 26th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 10th prize car: Vapid Retinue Mk II [Jul 12th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 11th prize car: Lampadati Michelli GT [Aug 18th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 12th prize car: Dinka Veto Modern [Aug 21st, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 13th prize car: Vapid GB200 [Aug 28th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 14th prize car: Dundreary Landstalker XL [Sept 4th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 15th prize car: Truffade Adder [Sept 15th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 16th prize car: Principe Lectro [Sept 21st, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 17 prize car: Nagasaki Outlaw [Sept 27th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 18th prize car: Ubermacht Rebla GTS [Oct 2nd, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 19th prize car: Pegassi Zorrusso [Nov 21st, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 20th prize car: Grotti Visione [Nov 27th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 21st prize car: Pfister Growler [Dec 18th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 22nd prize car: Declasse Mamba [Dec 27th, 2021]

• GTA V Online - My 23rd prize car: Progen T20 [Jan 31st, 2022]

• GTA V Online - My 24th prize car: BF Club [Feb 15th, 2022]

• GTA V Online - My 25th prize car: Ubermacht Zion Classi [Mar 13th, 2022]

• GTA V Online - My 26th prize car: Annis Savestra [Apr 13th, 2022]

• GTA V Online - My 27th prize car: Overflod Entity XF [Jun 14th, 2022]

• GTA V Online - My 28th prize car: Enus Paragon R [Sept 1st, 2022]

• GTA V Online - My 29th prize car: Pegassi Tempesta [Sept 16th, 2022]

• GTA V Online - My 30th prize car: Coil Cycle [Sept 24th, 2022]

My GTA V Online Video: Halloween Week 2021:

• Halloween Week - Part 1 (Oct 28, 2021)

• Halloween Week - Part 2 (Oct 29, 2021)

• Halloween Week - Part 3 (Oct 30, 2021)

• Halloween Week - Part 4 (Nov 1, 2021)

My GTA V Online Throwback Screenshots/Snapshots:

• Nov. 2 & 3, 2020

• Dec 24, 2020

• Jan 16, 2021

My GTA V Online Video: Los Santos Tuners (2021):

• Part 1 (Recorded: Jul 21, 2021)

• Part 2 (Recorded: Jul 21, 2021)

• Vapid Clique w/ “Cliquemas Clique” Livery Review - Part 1 [Dec 28, 2021]

• Vapid Clique w/ “Cliquemas Clique” Livery Review - Part 2 (Final) [Dec 28, 2021]

• Ocelot Ardent w/ “Deck the Halls” Livery Review [Jan 4, 2022]

• Albany Roosevelt (Valentine’s Day Special) Review [Feb 13, 2022]

• Truffade Nero Review [Feb 28, 2022] (Recorded: Feb 22, 2022)

• Dewbauchee Rapid GT Classic Review [Mar 3, 2022]

My GTA V Online - My after Lucky Wheel Review:

• Vapid FMJ Custom Review [Mar 2, 2022]

• HVY Nightshark Review [Mar 17, 2022]

• Overflod Tyrant Review [Mar 24, 2022]

• Grotti Itali RSX Review [Apr 3, 2022]

• Annis RE-7B Review [Apr 30, 2022]

• Ubermacht Revolter [May 3, 2022]

• Declasse Drift Yosemite [May 16th, 2022]

• Overflod Entity XXR [Jun 9th, 2022]

• Enus Windsor Drop [Jun 26th, 2022]

• Lampadati Michelli GT [Aug 18th, 2022]

• Dinka Veto Modern [Aug 21st, 2022]

• Vapid GB200 [Aug 28th, 2022]

• Dundreary Landstalker XL [Sept 4th, 2022]

• Truffade Adder [Sept 16th, 2022]

• Principe Lectro [Sept 21st, 2022]

• Nagasaki Outlaw [Sept 27th, 2022]

• Ubermacht Rebla GTS [Oct 2nd, 2022]

My GTA V Online: Festivity Holidays (2021):

• Christmas Eve Today Selfies: Part 1 [Dec 24, 2021]

• Christmas Eve Today Selfies: Part 2 [Dec 24, 2021]

• Snowball weapon demonstration & Christmas music Easter Egg [Dec 27, 2021]

• Vapid Clique w/ “Cliquemas Clique” Livery Drive Test [Dec 28, 2021]

• More Christmas Snapmatic Snapshots [Dec 29, 2021]

• EVEN MORE Christmas Snapmatic Snapshots [Dec 30, 2021]

• My Final Christmas Snapshots [Jan 5, 2022]

My GTA V Online Random Snapshot/Screenshot/Video:

• Shooting Range at my Bunker [Oct 7, 2021]

• My Oppressor Mk II is floating [Jul 9, 2022]

• Open Wheel Race Off Course Bug [Jul 23, 2022]

• Trapped at the Prize Ride (after updating new DLC) [Jul 27, 2022]

• The Criminal Enterprises update: Luxury Autos & Simeon’s Premium Deluxe Motorsport “Sprunk Edition” [Sept 6, 2022]

• The Criminal Enterprises update: Luxury Autos & Simeon’s Premium Deluxe Motorsport “eCola Edition” [Sept 12, 2022]

• Collecting Halloween Jack O' Lanterns - Part 1 [Oct 17, 2022]

Tagged: @bryan360, @carmenramcat, @leapant

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (412): Wed 3rd May 2023

The Lakers beat The Warriors in a closely contested game last night. There was a funny moment towards the end where Dennis Schroder attempted to block one of the Warriors shooting for a three pointer by leaping through the air flailing his arms like Antonio Banderas at the end of the SpongeBob Movie. The real highlight of this game was the return of the great Jack Nicholson to courtside. Jack has been a regular Lakers supported for nearly 40 years but he hasn't been seen courtside since 2021, raising fears among some that he may have been ill and unable to leave the house. They gave him a nice tribute, playing several clips from his movies before revealing him to the welcoming Crypto.com arena crowd (Still feels so surreal that I was just in this very building just over a month ago watching the Lakers myself. Feels like a God damn lifetime ago now).

I bought a ticket to see KISS in Newcastle. I originally went to see these legends of rock in 2018. They were set to play a gig in Manchester but a week prior to this the infamous bombing took place at the Ariana Grande concert. I thought about leaving it and waiting until the next time they played the UK but after realizing that there might not be a next time I reluctantly bought tickets to their next show on the tour at the O2 in London. The gig was great but marred by the fact that it took a long time to get there and I had spent a shitload of extra money on two Kiss gigs and only went to one. This time around it should be much more enjoyable because the gig will be taking place on my day off and the location is only a half hour train ride from my house. I won't be wearing the facepaint however because I don't relish the thought of being on the Metro looking like The Demon, and since I'm rocking a mutton chop's beard at the moment it would be quite hard to get the facepaint on anyway.

[mayhemproduces]

Sister Abigail is coming off two major victories over the past week. Her first win came from her former friend, EFFY, that was marred in controversy. But no matter if you believe Abigail tapped out because she couldn’t take anymore, or wanted to trick EFFY into letting go, Abigail still remains the MPW World Champion, and survived her first defense of the BLP Heavyweight title. That’s a feat nobody can take from her. Then, last night, Abigail defended the BLP Heavyweight title solo for the first time, knocking off Su Yung to a heated audience.

Statistics aside, the books won’t help Abigail escape Erick Stevens. This is going to be a brawl, and only one can be left standing.

Kicking things off with a collar and elbow tie up, Stevens snags a side headlock over the champion. Erick Stevens is a former BLP Heavyweight Champion himself, and Abigail has to be careful here not to get too cocky. Lowering Stevens to his knees, Abigail gets a wristlock, keeping the pace slow as she works Stevens over, much different than her matchup with EFFY and Su Yung. The strategic side of the Matriarch shines as she works Stevens over, cranking on the wristlock. Stevens manages to throw her aside with a judo toss, getting a hold of the left arm. Abigail rolls onto her back, before simply kicking Stevens in the chest to break the hold, but Erick flattens her with a shoulder tackle! Abigail’s shaking her head as she climbs back to her feet, and blasts Erick with a chop to the chest! Erick looks thrilled at the challenge, but Abigail might’ve bitten off more than she can chew, getting dropped by the challenger with a HUGE chop!

Erick lands a second big chop in the corner, lighting up Abigail’s chest. Abigail drops to her knees, sliding away from Stevens, as the referee does his due diligence to see if Abigail’s ready to give up. It’s going to take more than that to keep the Matriarch down, but Erick is glad to take his time, landing a second straight chop in the corner. This time he grabs Abigail’s white locks and throws her into the next corner, bounces her face off the turnbuckles, and lands another chop! Stevens knows the monster he’s dealing with. Abigail has been around the block a couple of times, faced some of the best of the best, and he’s trying to take her out early. Going for a charge in the corner, Abigail grabs him mid-run, tossing him into the corner with an Exploder suplex! Erick bounces off the turnbuckles, and Abigail wastes no time trying to stomp him into next week! Using those big boots of hers to pummel Erick into the mat, before she hangs from the ropes, pressing both feet against his throat, before pulling herself up, and crashing back down with double knees to Erick’s face! When Abigail finally backs off, Erick rolls to the outside. Abigail steps out to the apron, but Erick sweeps her off her feet, and nails her with a short lariat to the chest, squashing her against the apron! It wasn’t pretty, but it certainly was effective. Erick knows he has to take her down whenever the opportunity presents itself, and as The Fallen loom around him, Erick bides his time on the outside, throwing Abigail into the barricade, before they go on a trip, smashing her face on the apron. He moves the action back inside the ring, planting that boot right in her ribs.

Stevens with an irish whip off the ropes, Erick drops down as Abigail builds up momentum, before she comes crashing into a back elbow! Erick drops the champion! He instantly follows it up with a Russian Legsweep, floating through into an Octopus Stretch! Abigail “tapped” last week, and she could very well do it again! Stevens captures the freed arm, wrenching it back as Abigail screams out in agony. Eventually, Erick transitions into a Rings of Saturn, keeping his attack on the upper body, particularly the shoulders and neck of Sister Abigail. Trying to wear her down for that big lariat of his, keeping his attack very clean, crisp, staying one step ahead of Abigail. As Stevens wrenches on the submission, Abigail says “no, no, no” like a mantra, refusing to give in already. Eventually she’s able to turn herself and get a long leg on a rope, forcing Stevens to break.

With the submission broken, Erick grabs a leg, when Abigail smacks him across the face! Left and right handed slaps explode out of Abigail, doing more to insult Erick than to do any real damage, before she throws a leg up, catching him with a kick to the side of the head. Stevens stumbles to the other side of the ring, and Abigail sprints around the curvature of the squared circle, trying to take his head off with a running boot, but Stevens moves! Abigail gets tied up in the ropes, but Erick can’t catch her, Abigail slipping off and around him to grab Stevens by the waist, planting him with a German suplex! But Abigail holds on, bringing Erick back to his feet, before she ducks down, picking him up with an electric chair. She drops Erick, catching him by the waist, before delivering an electric chair German suplex! Abigail bridges into the cover.

1… 2… Kickout!

Abigail nearly retains, but Stevens throws the shoulder up at two. She gets them outside of the ring, pulling Stevens up the ramp, trying to hit a suplex up there, but Stevens reverses. He tries for a suplex of his own, but Abigail fights him off. Jockeying for position, Stevens gets caught with Psychosis, before Abigail grabs him, planting him on the rampway with a spinning Uranage! Stevens could be out, as Abigail gets back in the ring, laying down as the referee begins his count.

1….. 2….. 3…… 4….. 5…..

Stevens meekly rolls back into the ring, and Abigail, none too impressed, runs her mouth to her challenger before she makes her way to the top rope - but here comes Erick! He cuts her off with a forearm to the jaw, then a headbutt, trying to turn it into a superplex, but Abigail won’t budge. She wraps her hands around his throat, choking Erick out as she slowly turns him around, and locks in Hail the Reaper from the top rope! Erick’s flailing, but she only has a count of five before she has to drop him. She does and jumps off the ropes, but Stevens moves, and she has to roll through, right into a forearm  from Erick! Erick off the ropes, but he’s caught there with Psychosis, before Abigail pivots and runs the ropes. Erick grabs her halfway, tossing her straight to the floor! Abigail has just enough time to land on her feet before Erick’s coming at her, wiping her out like a heat seeking missile! The speed and accuracy on that throw gets the crowd HYPED, especially as Erick dumps Abigail spine first on the apron!

Back inside the ring, Stevens lands a running back elbow in the corner, before hitting a short arm lariat, pulverizing the champion. After those huge strikes, Stevens gets a snapmare, jumping to the middle rope, and takes her down with an uppercut! Stevens follows up with an attempt at a fireman’s carry, but Abigail slides right off and to the ropes, where Stevens picks her back up across his shoulders, and lands a gut buster! Abigail’s insides are crushed, and Stevens makes his first cover!

1… 2… Kickout!

Abigail out at two and a half, and Erick can’t believe it.

He can’t waste too much time wallowing here, however, as Erick runs the ropes, only to run right into a rolling elbow! Spit flies out of Stevens mouth, but he lets out a battle cry before running the ropes again. Abigail elects to duck this time, but Stevens whips right around, connecting with a Scottish Sickle to the back of her head! Stevens off the ropes again, but Abigail catches him! She whips him around, before planting him with the Wrath of the Gods! Shoulders down!

1… 2- Kickout!

Erick out at two! Abigail is seething, looking out at her minions for answers, when Erick nearly catches her off guard! She still turns it into a flatliner in the corner, before moving up to the top rope. Stevens is pulled up with her, but after a headbutt, he gets her up on his shoulders! Abigail slides off, getting in front of Erick this time before she jumps up, wraps her legs around his head, and throws Erick off the top rope with a hurricanrana! That’s not something we see from Abigail every day, but it puts the challenger in deep waters, as Abigail blasts him with another Psychosis! Erick’s seeing stars, and Abigail charges - only to get tossed into the turnbuckles with a snap powerslam!

Stevens in the opposite corner and pumps his arm, “CHOO! CHOO!” He charges across the ring, nailing Abigail with a running lariat! She stumbles out to the center of the ring, where Stevens flips her inside out with a second straight clothesline! Double underhook, Stevens nails the Tiger Driver! Sitout in the middle of the ring! Stevens just sealed the deal!

1… 2… KICKOUT!

Somehow Abigail was able to kickout, but Stevens isn’t letting it end like this! Getting the crowd fired up, he pumps his arm again, going for that clothesline - but Abigail ducks! She slips right behind him, planting him on his neck with a Saito suplex! Stevens is barely able to move as Abigail hits the ropes, before driving his skull into the mat with Starfall! Abigail turns him over to cover…

1… 2… KICKOUT!

Stevens with a strong kickout to keep this match alive! Abigail wants to end it here, attempting the Famemaker - but Stevens ducks and gets a rollup!

1… 2… kickout!

Stevens rolls her back and pops her with alternating shots from both forearms, swinging left and right, dribbling her chin between his arms. Before he twists, hitting a huge standing back elbow, nearly taking Abigail off her feet. An amped up grunt from Stevens gets the crowd loud once more, as he turns to the ropes, wanting to seal Abigail’s face - and runs right into the black mist from Malakai Black! He didn’t even attempt to hide it! The referee looks on in shock, but Bryce Remsburg is too familiar with these games, and isn’t giving in this time. He looks down at Malakai and wags his finger, letting him know this isn’t ending with a simple DQ, as Riley slides a steel chair into the ring. Abigail quickly grabs it and SLAMS it over Erick’s head so hard the seat pops out! She takes the evidence off his head and throws it out of the ring, before dropping into a cover. And Bryce, unaware of what just happened, makes the count…

1… 2… 3!

“Here is your winner, and STILL BLP Heavyweight Champion, and MPW World Champion, Sister Abigail!”

#match

[hobidreams]

june 1869.

you’ve never been able to hide from him.

pairing: joseon king!yoongi x reader genre: smut, angst, fluff? words: 2.3k contains: choices, consequences.

moonlit throne index. this is drabble 21. start from the beginning?

The moment you reach your private chambers, you collapse against the door. Your heart softly shudders with strain as you finally let the first tears fall, trickling steadily down your cheeks. The bundles you carried in fall to the floor as you cover your face with your cold hands, trying to stifle the quiet sobs that seem so determined to come.

You had gone into town after your work today. Walked down, escorted by a guard that you pretended wasn’t there. (The king now insisted upon such a thing whenever you left the palace walls, but you could tell the guard thought the job much beneath him.) You had just finished picking up a few ingredients from the market traders and was on your way to see if the bookstore had received new products when your attention had been caught by the sizeable crowd gathered outside the town clinic.

“Please, please, give me medicine for my daughter!” The peasant woman clutched a child that couldn’t have been more than two years old. The babe’s crying was as raucous as the yelling, the noisy mix of voices all clamoring with want.

“I need to see someone! My side— It hurts every day. I can’t work anymore. My family’s going to starve. I need treatment!”

The physician’s assistant stood on the clinic steps with folded arms and a bitter, hard look on his face. “Are we running a charity? We need to eat too! If you can’t pay, you can’t see the doctor!” He slammed the door in their faces, leaving them out in the sweltering heat, crying out that they could pay next week or as soon as they could, they just needed help right now, but the door remained shut.

Your chest felt stiflingly tight at the sight, compassion’s hand squeezing hard around your heart because you knew you could help. You had to help. You took a step forward, ready to offer your services only to have the guard block your way.

“Su-uinyeo-nim. We must return to the palace.”

“No, I want to stay.”

He shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. They could harm you.” And if they did, then his own head would likely be on the chopping block. Ridiculous.

“They won’t. They just need treatment, and I’m a physician.” You didn’t have many of your tools here but you could at least take a look, provide a diagnosis or recommend some easily obtainable herbs.

“The king would not approve of putting yourself in danger.”

You opened your mouth only to shut it. The king wouldn’t approve of a lot of things, but how could you just stand here and do nothing? These people, they needed your skills.

You took another step forward.

“Su-uinyeo-nim.” The guard’s voice was firm. He indicated for you to start walking away, towards home.

You shot him a stare, the hardest look you could conjure, but didn’t move. Not yet, damn it.

“Oh—uinyeo-nim!”

You dallied long enough. One of the women had evidently recognized your outfit and was now barreling towards you with a fire in her eyes. “Uinyeo-nim, you can help me, right!? It’s my daughter, she’s been having a fever and—”

“No, she cannot.” The guard’s glare was as sharp as the blade that the hand on his sword promised.

“Oh, please!” She threw herself against the arm the guard tried to reign her in with. Threw herself forward trying to reach you. “My daughter, my daughter will die if she’s not treated!”

“Let me—” You started, only for the guard to shove her harshly back since he could not do the same to you. She cried out, almost toppling over from the force as she clutched her baby, but he did not relent.

“We are leaving.”

He began to boldly walk towards you, practically into you, leaving you no choice in the matter. You were too afraid he might hurt her further if you did not comply even though every step away felt like a blow to your chest, like tiny fists pounding against your ribcage, making you sore and ache because the stark truth was that your inability to help her wasn’t even entirely the guard’s fault.

All those years ago, you chose to stay.

You never opened the affordable clinic mother had dreamed of. You put your feelings before the wellbeing of all those people you could have helped then, and you did it again today. Selfish. Selfish and helpless and selfish. For all the work you’ve done, it never feels like enough. There are always more patients in need and here you are, living among this extravagance and opulence but really getting nowhere. Not with the king. Not with how much change you can bring to the people.

Even your tears can only be shed here, in privacy and cowardice.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you whisper through your blurry vision, but these are just words. They do nothing in the end and every choice feels like the wrong one and that there will only be dire consequences to follow them.

“Su-uinyeo-nim?”

At Eunuch Kim’s muted voice, you startle. Hurriedly, you wipe the backs of your hands against your eyes. “Y-Yes?”

“The king has requested your company tonight.”

“Oh.” Shit. You’re in no state to face him, not for what he has in mind, but you must go. “I-I’ll be ready in a few minutes. Just allow me to… change.” You push to your feet, onto shaky legs as you sniff.

“Of course.”

The brief walk over in the cool summer evening helps to pull some of the sorrow from your mind (or at least tucks it away to be revisited later when you find yourself as always, alone). Eunuch Kim is kind enough not to probe into the heaviness about you today; he simply chats about the latest novel he has picked up in town, a study of birds that he recommends heartily to you. The king is not so kind. The second you enter his chambers, tilt your head just enough for him to catch your eye, he frowns.

“You’ve been crying.”

It’s not a question.

“I, um, simply had some dust in my eyes, jeonha.”

Searching for a distraction, you begin to undo the tie of your blouse. You’ve never purposefully let him see you openly upset, or at least not since this ‘arrangement’ began.

“Dust. Really.”

You nod, unwilling to meet his stare.

The floorboard creaks as he steps towards you. Covers your hands with his own so he can strip you instead. You can’t tell if he believes you; he is so quiet while he pulls layer after layer from you, letting the fabric drop to the floor in bunches of crumpled white and light blue. The warmth of his fingers on your skin feels like comfort, even when it’s only a prelude to his desire.

Isn’t it stupid, that some excessive part of you wants him to openly refute your lies even as you tell them? To undress your mind as hungrily he does your body until you have no choice but to be bared and free, released from the burden of your own thoughts?

“Get on the bed.”

Maybe it’s better like this. You are the only woman he has ever known in this way; you can’t let yourself be so greedy, to again let that selfish part of you want and want and want so much that appetite consumes you, bones and all. You press your palms and knees to the hard bedding. Squeeze your eyes together. Force the tears to stay back while you wait for the burn to come.

His calloused hands land on your waist, but it’s to urge you to turn over instead.

“J-Jeonha?” you question, confused when you see him already on his knees, that piercing gaze provoking goosebumps from your skin. “Why…”

His hands find your ass, urging you towards the edge of the bed. He throws the top layer of his robes aside before he spreads your legs apart, letting them rest against the wood.

What… What is he doing? You find your answer as the sokgot strips fall to the floor beneath his touch and abruptly, before your poor heart has time to prepare itself, his breath blows warm across your clit.

“Ah, this—!” Wild-eyed, you try to squirm back, hot with embarrassment that his face is this close to your crotch. It floods you with worry after worry about your scent, the possible bumps marring your skin, the tufts of hair, but he doesn��t seem to care about any of it as he hooks his hands beneath your thighs. “You’re not—”

Soft lips and a slick tongue are pressed flush against you.

Your entire body seems to quiver at the first lick; a single taste of wetness followed by a second, a third, a relentless fourth that makes liquid pleasure crest, surging upwards, a high, rushing tide in mere seconds. You buck, hands finding no support upon the sheets and part of you wants to cover your face instead, to let die the moans that surface with each gasp but that means you would miss the sight. This unforgettable sight: inky eyes between your thighs, the quick, pink tip of his tongue swiping heat directly into your veins. It feels messy before he finds his rhythm, settles into a beat that only reaffirms how he is irrefutably dominant even while he is on his knees before you, for once not breaking you apart but making you feel so dizzyingly whole you could burst.

While his fingers have learned almost every inch of you, this remains a scenario you never even thought to entertain, never even thought he would want. His pleasing only you. His putting you at the forefront of even his own satisfaction. Stop. The grip on your thigh tightens; you never want him to let go. Stop giving me hope. He does anyway with a drawn out suck, his stare as hazy and heady as if he’s been drinking the most exquisite cheongju.

Your body is taut, sweat beading down your spine. “This is— I can’t—”

“You can,” he quips back, and whatever words you could have said are stolen by orgasm. Taken, and made unbecoming moans that blow past the last shreds of your resistance now resting between his teeth.

It overwhelms you, this newfound sensitivity from being consumed; it makes you want to shirk back but he doesn’t let you. Somehow one of your legs finds its way over his shoulder and he uses that momentum to keep you against his stunning mouth, giving you what you need but never what you want. Each lick nudges you further off the edge, finding an acute bliss past every limitation you thought you had and you think, feverishly you think — it’s like he’s giving you permission to fall apart.

Tears coalesce at the corner of your eyes but you don’t notice. You don’t even know they’re there until wetness trails down your cheeks and even then you’re distracted by another peak, this one a muted swell that makes your muscles tense around his thin frame; he supports your weight without a word of complaint as his strokes finally dwindle in time with your pulses until both drop off entirely.

As he lets your leg roll off his arm, his breaths come almost as unsteadily as yours. Slowly, he retracts his wide hands from your thighs. Rolling his tongue against the inside of his own cheek, you watch him paint your taste in his mouth and don’t know what to make of any of it.

It’s only when a few tears cling to your eyelashes and blur your vision that you realize what’s happening. How embarrassing. You told yourself you wouldn’t do this on the way here and look at you now. You’re about to reach up to wipe away the tears, the damning evidence of your weakness when the king wraps his hands tight around your wrists. Pushes you back. Presses his knees to the bed as he hovers above you, all silence and heat and him.

“Um, j-jeon—”

He leans down and cuts you off with a kiss.

You gasp into his mouth but he doesn’t pull away. He is just soft, persistent, firm, and soft as he moves naturally across territory that should have been unfamiliar, but instead it feels like he’s been mapping, planning this capture for as long as you have. An impossible dream, yes, but the warm breath ghosting across your skin, lingering, is real. You open for him. For your first kiss. Your first kiss with him.

The warm fingers at your wrist squeeze harder.

“You… You can cry.” His voice is a murmur, delicate and hesitant against your lips, as if imparting a secret. “If you want.”

So you do.

You finally let yourself cry while he kisses you again and again, adjusting his angle to push you further into the pillows, releasing a wrist to cup your wet cheek. He kisses you with his nose pressed to yours, a tiny, precious moan finding freedom from someone’s throat.

Yoongi, your mind recalls, clinging to the syllables that belong to a word you’ve never dared to say aloud as he kisses you, kisses you, kisses you until both your mouths are swollen and your chest feels a bit lighter, his a bit heavier in exchange.

And when he finally pulls away, he holds you. His arms accept all your gravity for just a few lingering minutes more, a few heartbeats more, until it’s time for you to go.

#ficswithluv #btsghostie #ksmutclub #yoongi x reader #bts smut #yoongi smut #min yoongi #bts imagines #bts scenarios #historical au #moonlit throne #rain writes #one of my favorite chapters #how do you feel about the king now?

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Dick reached as high as his eleven year old legs could take him, towards a set of pots in the cabinet. It wasn’t enough, but Bruce stepped over to help him, setting the pots down on the kitchen island.

“Okay,” Bruce said. “Review the rules for me again?”

“Alfred gives us three ingredients,” Dick explained, “and we have to make something that has all three in it.”

“How much time do I get?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“And I have to present it, right?”

“Yeah. Alfred’s the judge.”

“And then?”

“He puts the dish that loses under a cover, and we wait for a dramatic reveal.”

“Oh, drama. Good.”

Dick gave Bruce a look. “I’m gonna be the announcer.”

“I thought you were doing it with me?”

“I’ll be a contestant too.”

“Is that going to work?”

“Oh yeah,” said Dick, smiling brightly. “It’ll be great. Ready to start?”

“I guess.”

Dick ran to the other side of the kitchen, flipped off the light switch, did a quick twirl, and flipped it back on. He slid into the middle of the kitchen on his sock feet. 

“Good evening!” he said, in his best commentator voice. “And welcome back to Chopped at the Wayne Tower penthouse. I’m your host, Dick Grayson, and today I’ll be competing against Mr. Bruce Wayne!”

Dick struck a confident pose, motioning for Bruce to do the same. Bruce half-laughed and stepped forward into what Dick recognized as his Batman-overlooking-the-city stance. 

The image cracked Dick’s persona, and he laughed so hard he had to bend over and breathe for a few seconds. He got back to business. 

“Let me introduce you to our judge, the honorable Alfred Pennyworth! Let’s give him a round of applause, folks!”

Alfred gave a solemn nod from his place at the dining room table. Dick ducked to the other side of the island, clapping his hands loudly to simulate a fake audience. Bruce joined in.

“Contestants, grab your baskets!” Dick pulled his own cloth covered basket, the one Alfred prepared for him, from the island counter. It had some heft to it. He wondered what was inside. 

“Let’s take a look! Mr. Wayne?”

Bruce flipped open the matching basket on his counter and lifted out a glass jar. “Cherries,” he said, holding them up. 

“And?”

“Chocolate chips.”

“And last?”

“Uh.” Bruce examined another jar, this one plastic, and set it back down. “Cinnamon peanut butter.”

“Hm,” said Dick. “Interesting. A dessert round.”

“Oh yes,” Alfred confirmed. 

“Do you have the stop-watch?”

“I do, Master Richard.”

“Okay then— on your mark, get set… go!”

Dick ran towards the pantry, but Bruce stepped in front of him, blocking the way. 

“Hey!” Dick complained. 

“Sabotage,” said Bruce, grinning, before he let Dick pass. 

Dick pulled the bag of pancake mix from a shelf and scooted sideways, holding it behind his back so Bruce couldn’t see. Unnecessary, he realized, since he was going to announce his choice anyway. 

“Dick Grayson takes an early lead in speed! He has selected a bag of breakfast mix! Mr. Grayson, what do you plan to make?”

“Waffles!” said Dick, answering his own question. He slid over to the fridge and pulled out a gallon of milk and a container of heavy whipping cream. “I’ll be making chocolate chip waffles using the cherry juice for color and flavor, with the fruits themselves on top.”

“What about the peanut butter?” asked Bruce. 

“Flavor for whipped cream.”

“Oh. That’s clever.”

“No copy-cats. That’s cheating.”

“Right.” 

“What about you, Mr. Wayne? Ideas?” Dick pushed himself off the island and held a spatula up at Bruce’s face like a microphone.

Bruce held up a packet of something. 

“Ah!” Dick nodded in approval. “Can you tell us— why Jell-O?”

“It has instructions on the box.”

“You make good points.”

“I’m using the Speed-Set method. It’s highly technical.”

“I’m sure it is.” 

“But I’m still not positive it’s going to set in time.”

“I guess we’ll see?” said Dick. “It’s a good idea anyway.”

“Thank you.”

“Alfred will taste this jello, and you will taste defeat.”

“Okay.”

Dick ran back to his island with a mixing bowl stolen from Bruce’s side of the kitchen. 

“Hey!” Bruce complained. 

“Sabotage,” said Dick, grinning. 

Dick stirred his milk into the waffle mix, then dumped in a generous pour of cherry juice. The mixture turned a delightful shade of bright pink. Dick left it for a few moments to slide back to Bruce’s side of the room. He overshot slightly and collided softly with the counter. 

“Whoops. Mr. Wayne, how does it go at station number two?”

“Well,” said Bruce. “I’m using the cherries in this jello, but I don’t really know what to do with the other two ingredients.”

“Thought process?”

“None.”

“Oh, sure.”

“I bet chocolate and peanut butter go together,” Bruce mused. 

“Yeah.”

“But in what?”

“I dunno.” Dick stepped back into the kitchen center. “Time?” he yelled.

“Eighteen minutes left,” said Alfred. 

Bruce hurriedly shoved a few glasses of red jello into the freezer. Dick returned to his station to pour his chocolate chips into his mixture. 

He pulled the waffle iron from the cabinet under the counter, sprayed it with the bottle of no-stick, plugged it in, and waited for it to heat up. While he did, he wandered over to Alfred’s table with his spatula. He held it out to Alfred. 

“Judge Pennyworth, your impressions?”

“I believe this will be interesting if nothing else.”

“Are you hungry?”

“I have not decided at this point.”

Dick nodded. “Time?”

“Fourteen minutes.”

“Oh, I better get back.”

Waffle iron ready, Dick gave his pink mixture a final stir and poured it in. He did spill some over the side of the bowl, and the counter, and the iron, but that was okay by him. The waffle iron steamed cheerily. 

Dick rummaged through the drawers for a whisk. He added vanilla and powdered sugar to his cream, then scooped in a few spoonfuls of peanut butter, then began to whisk as quickly as possible.

While he did, he went to investigate the other side of the kitchen. 

“Mr. Wayne! Have you formed a plan?”

“I think I’m going to make hot chocolate. With peanut butter.”

“And jello?”

“Served with jello.”

“That doesn’t really… go together.”

“I’m aware. It’ll have to do.”

“Okay, I guess. I gotta flip my waffle.”

Bruce nodded. Dick spun around a few times, just because, and flipped his waffle. He returned to his whisk. 

“Time?” Bruce called.

“Eight minutes.”

“Thanks.” When Dick looked over, Bruce had the milk. Bruce poured it into a mug, studied it for a few moments, and stuck it in the microwave. He hesitated again before punching in a number.

One minute. Dick shrugged. He didn’t know how long to put it in either. Alfred always made the hot chocolate at home, and before that, Dick’s dad. Bruce’s guess was as good as his. 

The microwave hummed as Dick’s whipped cream began to peak. He hummed along with the microwave in satisfaction. 

“Six minutes,” said Alfred. 

Dick’s waffle came out just fine, if not as pretty as he wanted. The chocolate chips that landed on the outside of the waffle marred the color a little bit, but the rest was suitably bright, and Dick liked it.

He set the waffle on a plate, stuck a few cherries on top, and slid to Bruce’s side again. Wait until the last moment to put on the whipped cream, he figured. That way it wouldn’t wilt. 

“Mr. Wayne appears to be stirring in chocolate chips and peanut butter,” Dick narrated. “Any comments, Mr. Wayne?”

“I hope my jello set.”

“I do too. Are you going to pull it out now?”

“I suppose.” Bruce stepped over to the freezer and removed his glasses. The red at the bottom of the glasses jiggled a little bit over the cherries settled at the bottom.

“Hm,” said Bruce. 

“I think it set.”

“Maybe.”

“One minute,” said Alfred. 

Dick heaped on a dollop of peanut butter whipped cream and set his plate on the table in front of Alfred. Bruce followed with a glass of jello and a gently steaming mug of hot chocolate. 

“Time,” said Alfred.

“Folks, it’s time for Judge Pennyworth to make his comments. Judge Pennyworth?”

“I comment,” said Alfred, “that this is surprisingly competent on Mr. Wayne’s part.”

Bruce took a bow. 

“We’ll start with Mr. Grayson’s dish. It’s a lovely color.”

“Thank you,” Dick said, smiling. 

“And for taste…” Alfred scooped off a section of whipped cream and nodded thoughtfully. “This is very nice. Let us taste the waffle.”

Dick beckoned Alfred onward. 

“This also is very nice,” Alfred decided. “Well done, Master Richard. We will now move to Mr. Wayne’s dish. Hm. Jello does not go with hot chocolate.”

“I know,” Bruce groaned. 

“But the fine glass goblets are a nice touch.”

“Thank you.”

“Your jello does appear to be set.”

“Thank God.”

“And this hot chocolate is ah,” Alfred took a sip, “a little flavorless, actually. I might suggest more chocolate next time.”

“Hm,” said Bruce. “I will take that into account every other time I do this.”

“Your sarcasm is unappreciated. If you could both leave the room?”

“Okay!” Dick grabbed Bruce’s arm and pulled him out through the living room and into the hallway that led to the bedrooms. 

“Was it fun?” Dick asked. 

“Sure.”

“You don’t sound excited.”

“As long as you’re having fun, I’m having fun.”

“I am ready,” said Alfred’s voice.

They hurried back into the dining room, where Alfred sat at his table with a large, covered platter in front of him. 

“Yes!” Dick exclaimed. He hopped in front of the table with his spatula. 

“Before we show a winner, let’s talk about our experience. Mr. Wayne! You put on a great show today. Why did you join this contest?”

“Oh thank you, I was forced to be here.”

“Forced by your love of cooking?”

“Absolutely.”

“Are you proud of your dish?”

“I am, actually. That’s the best I’ve done in years.”

“I can confirm,” said Alfred. 

“You’re in fine form today,” said Bruce. 

“Okay!” said Dick. “Whose dish… is on the chopping block? Judge Pennyworth?”

Alfred lifted his cover to reveal a goblet of jello and a mug of hot chocolate.

“It was a hard decision, but alas, one I had to make.”

Dick grinned. 

“Bruce Wayne! Gotham nobility, the guillotine has come.”

“Dark,” said Bruce. 

“You have been chopped.”

“Okay.” 

“I receive honor and glory as my prize.”

“You receive clean-up duty,” said Alfred. “Both of you.”

#mine #fanfiction #did you know chopped has been running since 2009? #my siblings used to play chopped on vacation #I always picked the ingredients #it was a lot of fun #anyway I couldn't sleep tonight so #bruce wayne #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Raincheck (Ethan x MC)

Summary: Set after chapter 8, Ethan and Naomi get a re-do on their dinner date.

Tags: @colourmeshy @fanmantrashcan @writinghereandthere @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @a-i-n-a-a-s-h @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile 

Enjoy!

~v~

The first thing Naomi notices when she crosses the threshold to Ethan’s apartment is that it smells amazing. A delicious aroma wafts from the kitchen and she has to stop herself from drooling at the scent.

This is the second time this week that she’s been at his apartment, though this time Ethan promises that there will be no surprise interruptions. And this makes Naomi anxious, because the last time she was here, Ethan kissed her, multiple times, and promised that they’d talk. And with a little over a year of knowing the older attending under her belt, Naomi knows that Ethan Ramsey is a puzzle and he’s constantly pulling the rug out from under her feet. So her guard is up, despite wanting to be able to relax in his presence.

Ethan greets her at the door, out of his formal work clothes and now in a simple t-shirt and blue jeans.

“Naomi, hi.” His eyes sweep over her form, and he tries not to get fixated on the way her dark blue sweater hugs every curve on her body. “You look great.”

“Thank you.”

“It smells amazing in here.” Once she’s inside and her shoes are at the door, Naomi stands on her tiptoes, peering into the kitchen. She sees a huge skillet and a pot on the stove, but it gives her no answers. “Can I know what you’re cooking, or are you going for an element of surprise?”

“Chicken, sautéed in peppers, yellow rice and roasted asparagus. Do you have any objections about the menu?”

“It sounds delicious.” She stops at his kitchen island and takes a seat at one of the barstools. 

“Do you want something to drink? I have pretty much everything.”

“What’s the best wine in your collection?” Naomi asks. “I’d like a glass of that.”

Ethan turns around and goes to rummage in his pantry. “I have a very expensive bottle that a patient gifted Naveen a while back. Her rich “boyfriend” owns a vineyard in Napa, and after we solved her case, she had him send Naveen quite a few bottles. He gave me one.”

He rinses out two glasses and pours the expensive Chardonnay. 

“Air quotes around the word boyfriend leads me to assume he was her sugar daddy.”

“Her very married sugar daddy,” Ethan adds. “Splitting his time between Napa and New England.”

“Scandalous.”

“His vineyard makes excellent wine, though.”

Naomi takes a sip and instantly agrees with Ethan. The smooth liquid is delicious. “Mhmm, I can taste the vanilla.”

“You have excellent taste for a 27 year old.”

“It’s a cross I have to bear,” Naomi teases with a giggle. “Do you need any help with dinner?”

“No. You’re my guest, you just sit there and relax.”

She leans across the counter and watches as Ethan expertly chops up jalapeño peppers.

“I’m not used to being in a kitchen and not helping,” Naomi says with a sigh. “I used to practically study my mom and grandma growing up.”

“Oh, so you like to cook too?”

“I love it. I love food. Every Sunday after church, we’d go to my grandparents’ house for football and dinner.”

“What’s your favorite thing to cook?” Ethan asks. Naomi doesn’t talk much about her life before Edenbrook, and he’s curious.

“My grandma has a recipe for pot roast and garlic mashed potatoes that will make you cry.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the secret?”

“It’s for Valentine women only, mister. My mom didn’t get the recipe until she and my dad had been married for 10 years.”

“It’s that serious?”

Naomi nods. “Super serious. She’s really protective over her recipes, and she wants the rest of the family to be just as guarded. My uncle once suggested she write a cookbook, and she nearly tore him a new one.”

Ethan notes the sparkle in her eye as she talks about her family and he can’t help but to smile. “Okay, since you’re the expert, I’ll let you help me.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Yay! But first, I cannot cook in silence. We’re going to need some music.”

“In the living room, next to the window, I have a record player. Pick whatever you’d like.”

“A record player?” Naomi slides off the barstool and rushes to the living room. “You’re an old soul.”

“I like records. I think they’re cooler than CDs.”

Naomi browses through his selection of vinyls. He had a mixture of a lot of different artists and genres: Billie Holiday, Michael Jackson, Prince, David Bowie, Queen, James Brown, Nina Simone, The Beatles. There was even some classical music by Beethoven thrown into the collection.

She settles on Billie. “You have good taste, Doctor Ramsey.”

Soon she’s back in the kitchen, hands washed, sleeves rolled up, and hair pulled back. They settle into a comfortable routine. She minces garlic as Ethan gets the rice started.

Ethan enjoys her presence in his kitchen. There’s no tension in the air, the silence isn’t deafening, and Naomi moves around with ease and confidence, as if the space was made just for her. He chooses to ignore the way his pulse speeds up at the thought.

With two people helping, it doesn’t take long for dinner to be served. Ethan tops off their wine, fixes two plates, and moves them into his formal dining area.

“I had no idea this little dining area was tucked back here,” Naomi says, looking around. “Just how huge is this apartment? Does it have a second floor that I’m not aware of?”

Ethan rolls his eyes at her wide cracks. “No second floor. But it’s a 3 bedroom.”

“3? How did I not notice that?”

“Well the last time you were here we only stayed in the kitchen. And the time before that we–”

 He stops himself before he can finish the sentence. The time before the last, they barely stayed in the living room for a few minutes before Ethan was dragging her into his bedroom.

Naomi looks down, her face burning at the memory. Thinking about their previous...encounter wasn’t her intention in the slightest. She groans to herself. This is what she gets for trying to make dumb small talk.

She pivots, not allowing them any more time to ruminate over the hook up. “Well you’ll have to give me a tour.”

“Deal.”

Naomi grabs her fork and digs into her food, taking a bite of her chicken. A low heat coats her taste buds, followed by the buttery flavor of the meat. A soft sigh passes her lips. “Okay, I know you love being a doctor, and you’re great at it, but I think you’d be an amazing chef.”

“Of course I’d be an amazing chef, I’m good at everything,” Ethan quips with a smirk.

“Your ego is unmatched.”

“But seriously, the food is good?”

His voice takes on an uncharacteristically low and shy tone. Naomi looks up at him and they lock eyes. He’s...nervous, she quickly surmises.

“The food is great, Ethan. If it wasn’t, you’d know.”

He smiles at her, relief coursing through his veins. Sure he knows he’s a good cook, but something about her praise and validation makes him feel like a teenager again.

“Good.”

“I might have you cook for me more often,” Naomi adds, lifting her wine glass to her lips and takes a sip. “How many other people get to say the great Ethan Ramsey made them dinner?”

“It’s just you,” Ethan replies. “And of course, you’re welcome over any time.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time. I just might take you up on that offer.”

“Please do.”

The rest of their dinner goes by, the two of them embroiled in light conversation. Once dinner is done, Ethan instructs her to head to his living room while he puts the dishes in the sink. A few minutes later, he comes back with two slices of cake, and two more glasses of wine, red this time to complement the chocolate of their dessert.

“Ooh, I get dessert too? My, my, You’re really spoiling me tonight.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Ethan grumbles.

“Too late.” Naomi eagerly accepts her slice of cake. “Did you bake this?”

“Would you be impressed if I said yes?”

“I’d be very impressed.”

“But no, I can't take credit for this. There’s a bakery a few blocks away, and they make the best chocolate cake.”

“That’s a hefty endorsement coming from you.”

“Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Ethan sits down next to Naomi, leaving little room between the two of them, but just enough. At this distance, he can smell whatever sweet perfume she’s wearing, mixed with her shampoo—coconut scented, that much he knows for certain—it it’s effects on him are dizzy and intoxicating.

“How did your talk with your dad go the other day?” Naomi asks. Being questioned about his dad wasn’t what he was expecting, and it snaps him out of his daze.

“Huh?”

“How did your talk with Alan go?” 

Ethan stops to seriously consider the question. His talk with his dad brought up a lot of feelings, good and bad, about a lot of different things. “I think he and I understand each other more. Love is still a pretty foreign concept to me, so I don’t think I’ll ever truly understand the depth of what he feels towards my mother, but I’m going to try to be more compassionate about them.”

“And I told him that him continuing to hold a flame for my mother fueled a lot of my anger,” Ethan continues. “It used to feel like he was willing to forgive her for hurting me. No matter what she did, all would be okay as long as she came back. Of course, he didn’t realize my perspective, and he apologized. We both realized that our views of my mom were going to be inherently different. And he agreed to stop trying to get me to talk to her.”

Naomi is glad to hear he made some peace with his dad. Alan seems like a sweet guy. “Do you think you’ll ever want to see her?”

A stony expression mars his features. “No. I’m not in a space to hear whatever bullshit excuse she spits out, nor do I want to hear any apologies. I’ve survived 25 years without her, I’ll survive 25 more.”

The energy in the room has taken a sharp turn. Naomi puts her plate down on the coffee table and takes Ethan’s hand in hers, her thumb running across his knuckles in a soothing manner. The simple gesture catches him off guard, and he looks at the younger woman.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset with my line of questioning.”

“I’m not upset with you,” Ethan assures her. She’s the last person he’d be upset with considering she’s been his rock throughout this entire ordeal. “And I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”

“You’re not being a burden, Ethan.”

“Regardless, I didn’t invite you over here to be bogged down by my family drama.”

Naomi looks down at their still joined hands, and she swallows thickly. “Okay, did you invite me over here to talk about our kiss?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up at the question. “I’ve always admired your boldness, Rookie. You get straight to the point no matter what.”

“No point in beating around the bush,” Naomi says with a shrug. Reluctantly, she pulls her hand out of his and turns her body so they’re facing each other. “Look Ethan, you said that we needed boundaries, and outside of our kiss at Donahue’s a few months back, I’ve been trying my absolute hardest to be respectful. But now you’re sending me mixed signals. First when we went to stake out your mom a few weeks back, you held my hand the entire way back to Boston. And then you kissed me the other day, a few times. Now I’m at your apartment again. I need to know what we’re doing, because you’re blurring the lines.”

Ethan sighs. He feels like a selfish asshole, jerking her around like this. “Look, Naomi, I thought our relationship was going to be that of a mentor and mentee–and it is, but it’s become so much more than that. You are one of the most important people in my life. You are the one person I want to turn to when things feel crazy, whether it’s about work or my personal life.”

“And…?”

“I’m getting there, Rookie,” Ethan chuckles softly, and her stomach flips at her old nickname. “Look, all my life, I’ve only ever viewed things in black and white, and it was easy for me. But you came barreling into my life, and not only can I see shades of grey, but I see the entire color spectrum. You push me, you challenge me, you drive me absolutely insane.” Naomi laughs. “But it’s becoming increasingly harder to respect my self-imposed boundaries when it comes to you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think it’s time I stop trying to hold myself back when it comes to you.”

Naomi’s too afraid to move. To breathe, even. What if this is some sort of dream? She’s going to wake up soon, in her own bedroom, alone, disappointed and full of self loathing. “So, what? Do you want to give us a try?”

“Yes, I want to give us a try. That is, if you still want to give me a chance. I know I probably don’t deserve one.”

Hearing those words is akin to a dam breaking inside of her. The air leaves her lungs all at once and her vision goes blurry with unshed tears.

Crying wasn’t the reaction he thought he was going to get from her. Ethan reaches out, gently swiping the pad of his thumb underneath her eye. “Naomi, what–”

She cuts him off, grabbing his face with both hands, crashing their lips together. He barely has time to toss his plate onto the table before she’s clamoring into his lap, straddling him.

This kiss feels so much like the one they shared a few nights ago. It’s frenzied, desperate, and filled with longing, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, something they haven’t felt before. Relief. Lightness.

Ethan’s tongue presses against her lips, silently asking for permission to deepen things. Naomi responds, opening her mouth to grant him entrance.

She clings to him, grabbing all that her hands can. His shoulders, his neck, his soft t-shirt. She needs some sort of permanence to ground her to the moment and let her know that this isn’t a dream. It’s real.

Ethan’s hands move from her hips, aiming higher until they’re under her sweater. His fingers burn, and he’s not sure if his brain is playing tricks on him because he’s consumed quite a few glasses of wine, or if the feel of her skin has that effect on him. Whatever the case, he welcomes the white-hot sensation, greedily searching for more surface area. Finally he settles on her back, his hands running around her spine, making her shudder.

They only pull apart because the need to breathe is much stronger than their desire to stay joined. But it doesn’t last long, as Naomi quickly kisses him again.

“I’ve missed you,” she confesses when she pulls away. Ethan notes the vulnerability in her eyes as she comes to rest her forehead against his. “I’ve missed this.”

“I’ve missed you too. You have no idea how much.”

She bites her lip in contemplation and Ethan swears it might be his favorite sight. “Please tell me this is real. Tell me you won’t wake up tomorrow and change your mind.”

Reluctantly, his hands drop from the small of her back. He uses one to tilt her chin up, forcing eye contact between the two. “I’m not going anywhere, Naomi.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

They kiss again, a softness filling them this time around. Her fingers pull at the hem of his shirt, tugging it, urging him to remove the piece of fabric.

“Naomi, stop,” Ethan orders gently. 

She breaks the kiss, confused. “What?”

“We need to stop,” Ethan pants heavily. His heart is beating erratically against his rib cage, and if she keeps kissing him like this, and touching him like this, he’s going to lose all of his will.

“What’s wrong?”

“If we don’t stop now, I won’t be able to stop myself from escalating this and taking you into my bedroom.”

Naomi shivers against him. “Is that a promise?”

“You have no idea. But I want us to take this slow. I want to do this right.”

“Oh yeah?” He can tell by the twinkle in her eye that she’s going to tease me. “Are you going to court me, old man?”

Ethan wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. She groans at the contact. “Call me old one more time, Rookie.”

Naomi is never one to back down from a challenge, but she doesn’t want to take things further knowing he wants to move slowly. “I think it’s sweet.”

“I just really don’t want to mess things up with you.”

“I don’t want to either.”

Naomi moves off of his lap, creating some distance. She smooths out her sweater, which is currently twisted around her midsection. 

She checks the time on her watch. “It’s getting late, I think I should go.”

“You don’t have to leave.”

“I know, but I think it’d be better for both of us if we ended things here. I don’t want to test your restraint any more.”

“Thank you. Do you need me to take you home?”

“I’ll call an Uber.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Naomi quickly calls for a car using the app. They find their shoes, enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence. They hold hands the entire way down, sharing shy smiles and glances.

The air between the two of them feels so different now. Like a weight has been lifted off of both their shoulders, they revel in the newfound lightness and change in their relationship.

They stand in front of his apartment complex as they wait for her ride to arrive, their hands still joined together. It’s late at night, but the city is still lit up, and all of the lights reflect off of Naomi as she stares at her surroundings. Ethan clears his throat, gaining her attention.

“So I was thinking, how about we go out this weekend,” he suggests. “There’s a new exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts.”

“We agreed to date a few short minutes ago, and you already have a date planned.”

Ethan shrugs. “Well, I’ve had this evening planned out for the past 48 hours.”

Naomi smirks at him. “And you were just so sure I would say yes to you?”

“Call it a hunch.”

A car matching the description of Naomi’s rideshare pulls up along the curb. “This is my ride.”

Before she can open the car door, Ethan yanks her hand and spins her around. He kisses her again, his warm hand cupping her jaw. He pulls away quickly, leaving her breathless. “One more for the road. Call me when you get home, okay.”

“Of course.” Naomi smiles. “See you tomorrow, Ethan.”

“Goodnight, Naomi.”

She enters the car and Ethan watches as it drives off. He stands on the sidewalk for a long time after she’s gone, as if he’s still in a daze. The entire night feels surreal, and he almost can’t believe things worked out the way they did.

He knows one thing for sure: he’ll be forever grateful for his ability to cook.

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Stalemate.”

An update on the Burg war :) Hope you like. 

“Commander be advised, more Burg ships have appeared from warp.”

“Shit, how many.”

“I uh….they don’t know sir, but they say it has to be an entire fleet.”

“Damn it.” The darkfire banked a hard right and began angling upwards. McCaster did his best to get information on the battle proceeding above their heads, though most of the information was garbled and confused.

The dogfight above the Gromm city hadn’t lasted more than a few minutes, and while there were still burg drones about, the commander clearly trusted the other pilots to take care of this mess.

They had lost three jets over the course of the battle, which was a surprisingly expensive ad large percentage of their flight budget in the UNSC, of course he ws sure the commander was less worried about the monetary cost as much as he was worried about the cost of lives. 

Six pilots dead, and more sure to follow.

McCaster’s stomach dropped back against his spin as the commander cut the jet engines and switched to fusion. The switch was so quick that he only  had a momentary feeling of free fall before they were rocketed back skyward cutting through the atmosphere and breaking into the dark reaches of space, the eggshell blue of the sky fading about them until darkness and the vast universe beyond unfolded before them.

A universe that was now besieged by silent explosions and eruptions of short lived fire immediately snuffed by the vacuum of space. Debris flew in all directions, and even the commander was having a hell of a time keeping from exploding cutting this way and that, pulling maneuvers that shouldn’t have been possible  slicing between two parallel pieces of floating metal so close that McCaster could see the individual rivets running down its silver length.

Cutting past that, the commander pulled down bringing them in a stomach churning dive before moving back upwards, pressing them back into their seats.

Ahead of them chaos was unloading, the GA on one side and the burg on the other. Ordinance flew back and forth, and, as they watched,  stuck and unable to do anything to help, one of the burg ships cut around from the side and tagged one of the UNSC vessels, with a round straight to the port side.

There was a silent explosion, fire ripped through the inside of the hull as oxygen was quickly consumed. The ship listed heavily to one side.

“Fuck! Who was that! Get me a casualty report NOW!” The commander ordered.

McCaster rushed to do as told, but was having trouble with all the comms interference. As they watched, little pods began breaking away from the ailing ship, most of them coming from the breached decks as panicked crew-members fled to the escape pods.

One escape pod was completely annihilated by a passing piece of debris, popping like a popcorn kernel does in a microwave, ripping open and sending bodies flipping like rag-dolls out into the vastness.

McCaster grew sick just thinking about what dying like that would have felt like. Freezing to death as all the glasses slowly boiled from your blood. He hoped that they were all to dead to think about what had happened to them.

“That was the UNSC Esperanca, commander. Captain Silva is not responding, and all coms to the bridge crew have been cut. GA rescue teams are being dispatched casualties are estimated in the hundreds.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” The man continued to cure wildly, “Radio in to the harbinger.”

“Yes sir.”

He connected the coms link so the commander could speak freely, though he was rather concerned about the man’s ability to fly and talk at the same time.

They rotated to the side, executing a tight barrel roll and dive taking them out of the line of a fast moving group of space debris which threatened to pop their ship like a can opener and expose the two of them like a couple of sardines.

“Commander.”

“Tell me what’s happening.”

“The burg brought in a second surprise fleet to back up their first. The Burg command ship has landed planetside just outside the central city, and ground troops are making a march for the capital city. Captain Silva is in contact, and unharmed, but the ship is heavily damaged. Casualty report is up to 220 from all ships 150 of those being from Silva’s crew, and the death toll is rising as we speak. Sunny has dispatched marine drop troops to deal with the burg invasion of the capital city.”

The commander had to stop talking for a moment, as a burg vessel dropped in behind them. The commander cursed again rather violently before bringing them straight towards the debris field. McCaster hopped on the under-wing guns shooting away any piece of debris that he could manage flying as fast as they were.

Again, the commander proved his metal, cutting through the field with only inches to spare leaving the burg drone in pieces behind them.

A couple more GA ships popped into view.

“Get silva to fall back, have some of the GA vessels form a protective perimeter around their ship, I don’t want anyone else getting killed, have them fall back and wait for assistance. Do we know of any GA ship that is capable of multiple microwarps without overheating?’”

There was a long pause.

“Sunny says that the Rundi ships should be able to do at least ten before it becomes dangerous.”

“Alright, new plan, have the rundi ships alternate micro warp behind the enemy fleet, have them take a shot and then warp out, then have the next ship do the same but in a different location. Aim for one ship at a time if you can, or be random if it looks like they are catching on. Pair each of our fleet with one of the Rundi vessels and have them communicate with each other about the micro warps. Let's see if we can’t flank them. Try to hit them at the same time then use the rundi shields to block our unshielded vessels between bouts.”

“Yes sir.”

“And lieutenant?”

“Yes sir?”

“Can you hold the ship or do you need me to return.”

“I have it commander, you do what you need to do.”

“I have a better eye from up here.”

“Good, sir.”

The commander kept the line open listening to the general chatter of the battle. While they watched, the Rundi ships fell back into formation with the four remaining human vessels, while the tesraki ships pulled back to protect the limping remains of the Esperanca.

A body rolled past their window, face pale and cold in death.

The commander kept his cool though.

The burg Ships were still firing, but now the Rundi ships were taking the brunt of the attacks, their superior shields lighting up in shades of blue.

One of the ships vanished leaving it’s human counterpart open to fire, however as the Burg were gearing up to take a shot, the rundi ship appeared behind them. There was a pause as the ships seemed to be deciding what to do, during which time both the human and the rundi ships took that moment to take their shots.

It was a dangerous maneuver, for if either one of them missed the could potentially send their ordinance into friendly territory, but it worked for the time being, and an explosion rocked the leftmost side of the burg hull ripping three decks open to bare space.

Bodies were sucked out into the void and tossed like ragdolls into floating objects.

The rundi ship vanished and appeared back before the human ship just as the burg began to fire.

The rundi shields were not looking great, but another pairing was ready to dot the same taking the focus off the first ship for the time being.

“Commander, Commander.” The garbled voice rushed over the radio marred by the sound of explosions in the background, and shouting.

“Go.” The man ordered taking the ship into a steep incline locking onto one of the burg drones and erupting it into a ball of flame.

“Sir, This is Ramirez with the ground forces. The burg have deployed ground transport and artillery units and are advancing towards the city. We have made a protective perimeter, but our weapons arent going to do shit against those ground units.”

“Sending in air support. Hold tight Ramirez.”

He turned back to the coms and requested bombers to be deployed to the surface.

“What do they want with the capital city?”

McCaster wasn’t exactly aware of alien politics and so couldn't help but asking.

“The Gromm homeworld is the center hub for trade in the galaxy. Each of the home worlds has a warp disruptor that doesn't allow direct warp into a solar system unless authorized. The Gromm capital city holds the coding software that allows this to work, considering it needs access to almost all planets in Andromeda and, by extension, earth as well. We cannot let them get access to that information or else they can easily move in for an attack on any one of us. The rundi homeworld, the Tesraki, humans.” 

They cut around the side of the burg ship.

And the commander kept an eye out in the field for something he knew he wasn’t likely to spot.

“Conn, Conn, are you there, can you hear me.”

There was silence, and for a moment the commander thought the worst.

“Right here captain, though I would appreciate if you told everyone to stop blowing each other up for a few minutes. That would make my life much easier.”

He ignored the snark for the moment, “Have you managed to get close enough to hear them?”

“Mmm only close enough to get general impression. If I get any closer, I run the risk of getting exploded, and right now I am already at risk of being chopped in half, which I am not highly appreciative of.”

“What if we came, picked you up, and flew you past. Could you do it then?”

“I could probably manage that. Sending you my location now.”

McCaster hadn’t heard the conversation for obvious reasons, and so was confused as the commander pealed away from formation and started heading straight towards the burg fleet line. 

Luckily the larger ships didn’t consider one lone jet enough of a worry to actually fire at them, though the burg drones were eager for blood. The commander pulled some risky maneuvers, cutting through fields of metal, and maneuvering two drones to crash into each other.

He ordered McCaster to follow a beacon into the debris field, and with his help they were able to maneuver further in, slowing greatly and hiding their signature as they turned off the engine and coasted for a bit. They were going very slowly now, cutting through an eerie junkyard of mingled bodies and the skeletal remains of ships. A rundi corpse gently bounced off their right wind and went tumbling away into nothing.

McCaster was looking around for the beacon assuming they were after a ship of some sort, when there was a clatter atop the canopy. Of course there was no sound from outside, but the reverberations through the air on the inside of the canopy made him look up.

And immediately almost peed himself.

The black eyed- leering face seemed quite amused with his near panic attack, white ribbons billowing out from behind it, as it settled itself into place at the back of the canopy.

“Sorry McCaster, forgot to mention we were coming to pick up a friend.”

“Friend my ass.” he muttered under his breath, looking back at the still leering face.

They began a slow creep towards the burg ship, keeping low and below their enemy.

It was a strange angle , hard to remember that in space there was movement in almost any direction. Generally speaking all of the burg and GA ships were on the same grid level, so their approaching presence was hardly noticed. Burg drones hung about the outside of the enemy ship so this was about as close as they planned on getting.

“How about here, this is about as close as I can get you.”

“Mmmm, it may take a few minutes, there is only so much I can do between bouts of screaming. 

Their faces were lit a moment later by the fiery glow of another explosion, silent and dead in the vacuum of space.

Everything around them was eerily quiet.

“Well, shit.”

“Don’t give me that conn, tell me what’s going on now!”

“Might want to hurry up commander. This little space battle is simply a diversion for the real plan happening on the surface. Those artillery guns aren't just artillery. Some of the rounds have data nets on them, and may be able to hijack the pertinent information without them even getting into the city, if they land one close enough. I would wager to say you have ten minutes.”

“Shit!” 

What followed was sincerely the most insane and terrifying thing that McCaster had ever experienced. The commander flew like a madman, cutting duck rolling and spinning through the debris field with drones hot on their heels all while on the radio yelling for all air units to target their fire on the burg artillery. He probably would have ordered all the ships to break off and use orbital targeting as well, but they were too close to the burg city for that, and too close to the marines who were valiantly impending the burg efforts.

Luckily for them a single one of those data rounds would have to hit an exact target in order to work, but the closer they got the more likely  it would become.

Jets whizzed around the city shooting ordinance from the sky when they could.

The data rounds had to be slow in order to remain in tact for the flight down, so that was one advantage they had. 

All remaining bombers and jets were ordered down to earth, with the burg drones peeling off behind them.

The freaky alien, Conn let them go just as they were about to fall into orbit ribbons billowing out about him as they vanished into the distance rocketing towards earth at fenominal speeds. The fire licked up at their wings again, but this time McCaster knew what to expect.

He moved himself to the under-wing guns determined to help in any way he could.

They were approaching the ground fast, and an entire formation of aircraft rolled in one mass dogfight over the scene below as burg drones fought aggressively to protect their precious artillery units. The Burg command ship lobbed Anti-Air missiles into the sky causing one darkfire to erupt into a ball of flame.

McCaster though they were going to join another formation of jets heading towards the artillery units, but was surprised when the Commander continued their dive the ground approaching at a stunning speed.

This time he held himself conscious as the commander pulled out of the dive, at the last possible moment. They were going so low, that the power of their engines kicked up a trail of dust behind them knocking burg soldiers to the ground as they marched.

AA guns were useless against them as they careened towards the artillery line.

The wing guns fired repeatedly tearing up the ground, and sending burg bodies erupting in all directions.

The commander narrowed his sights, locking on, and then fired, before peeling off and pulling up. The right wing of their jet was so close to the ground, it clipped the top of a tall shrub sending plant bits in all directions, though it made no difference as the shrub erupted into momentary flames as the explosion reached it.

McCaster tried not to think about how close they had come to dying, and was reminded seconds later when a burg drone, which had been following them from their dive, rammed into the ground exploding just as violently and taking out a second piece of friendly artillery.

Burg bodies were thrown to the ground in the ensuing explosion, remaining cold and still.

One of their bombers was clipped hard in the wing, and went down with an explosion.

A white parachute opened after a moment only to be torn up by an incoming burg drone, with no qualms about shooting a man while he was defenseless.

The commander made sure it was the last move that drone ever took. 

Back towards the city more troop transports were dropping soldiers onto the front line. Marines, rundi and Tesraki soldiers were spilling from open pods setting up a defense line around the city. The Gromm were doing what they could to assist though their military technology was rudimentary at best.

“They almost have the nexus back online!”

As it turned out the Burg were well aware of this fact, at at least twenty incoming burg ships cut into atmosphere and were forced to descend to land, creating a defensible position around the burg command ship just as  as the nexus went back up

A large, translucent amber dome erupted about the ground where the burg ships were stationed locking them into place with their own shields.

The drones fell back to defend the position, leaving the exhausted pilots to circle around the perimeter unable to get close to the well defended position.

On rundi pilot made the mistake and was immediately shot from the sky.

Overhead, friendly forces had made a defensive perimeter of the Nexus and the remaining burg ships had fallen back leading everything to a standstill. They could do nothing about the burg ships already on the planet for fear of hurting the civilian population.

As for now, the battle had come to its conclusion as a draw, though the war was far form over. 

[puroresu-musings]

NJPW G1 CLIMAX 30 Day 5 Review (Sept 27th, 2020, Kobe World Memorial Hall)

Yota Tsuji vs. Gabriel Kidd  ***

A Block

Taichi vs. Yujiro Takahashi  **1/2

Jeff Cobb vs. Minoru Suzuki  ***1/4+

Kota Ibushi vs. Tomohiro Ishii  ****1/4

Will Ospreay vs. Shingo Takagi  ****1/2+

Kazuchika Okada vs. Jay White  ***3/4

photos.

This was one of the strongest cards of the tour on paper, and whilst it didn’t exactly reach its lofty anticipation, it was still a great show which was a breeze to sit through. Gabriel Kidd defeated Yota Tsuji in the prerequisite good Young Lion opener with his impressive Butterfly Suplex, which then gave us a match I was dreading in Taichi vs. Yujiro. However, I’m pleased to say that whilst this wasn’t especially good, it certainly wasn’t bad, so thats a definite plus. The crowd were into this late in the game, before Taichi hit a low blow, then scored the win in 11 minutes with the Gedo Clutch. The win makes Taichi undefeated thus far, but I can’t believe that will last much longer. Especially seeing who he’s got coming up in the rest of this thing. Hey, does anyone remember when Shelton Benjamin went on that inexplicable undefeated streak in 2014?

Minoru Suzuki defeated Jeff Cobb next in a match up that, whilst very good, was something of a disappointment (a theme will occur). It was very short for starters (9:24), and Cobb, who really hasn’t looked all that great in this tournament so far, sold for pretty much the whole match. Which is something he does entirely too much for my liking. I mean, he’s a big, athletic guy, who was a legitimate Olympian, and could probably shoot kill most guys in most locker rooms, but spends most of these matches getting his arse handed to him. I mean, fine when you’re talking about Suzuki, but would Dr Death have bumped all over and sold 80% of a match for Taichi? Would the Steiners? Or Kurt Angle? Anyway, you get what I’m saying. I just think he needs to come across more as a badass shooter rather than... whatever he is now. Which is literally “just a guy”. Regardless of my gripes, this was a good match (even if there were a few ‘clunky’ aspects), which Suzuki won after locking in a choke then transitioning to the Gotch Piledriver.

After a brief intermission it was time to go to war as Ibushi took on Ishii. These guys have had three matches previous to this, all of which were absolutely fab, so expectations were high. This was an excellent, heated, hard-hitting battle, but for various reasons, it couldn’t hit the heights of their previous bouts, and the most  obvious reason being that it’s incredibly hard to have an absolute blow-away classic in the current environment. Literally, there’s only been one in my book; the Naito/Tanahashi match from last week, and that’s it. Regardless, they still had a great match, beating the hell out of each other for 15:41 with hard chops, kicks, forearms headbutts and Lariats. Just as we’d all hoped they would. Ishii started chopping Ibushi in the throat, so Kota hit those scary throat punches in retaliation, then landed on his feet on a German attempt and scored a near fall with Boma Ye on the originators bestie. Ishii counters Kamigoye with headbutts, then a Lariat. They exchange hard strikes, Ibushi hits a high kick, then Kamigoye to take the 2 points and render Ishii winless in this G1. They continued beating each other up in the post match.

Next up was a rematch from the best match of 2019, when Shingo Takagi sought to avenge his BOSJ Finals loss to Will Ospreay. This really was a fantastic bout, but obviously couldn’t reach the heights of their match last year, but was easily MOTN, in the top 3 of this tournament so far, and amongst the best in the pandemic era. These guys work amazingly well together and it produces fairly amazing results. Their counter sequences alone are a thing of beauty. Ospreay got a near fall after a Corner to Corner dropkick and Shooting Star Press, before Shingo battled back with a Pumping Bomber and Made In Japan for near falls of his own. The Rampage Dragon hit his old Stay Dream middle rope Death Valley Bomb, but Ospreay kicks at 1. Shingo obliterates him with a Pumping Bomber which garners a near fall, and Last Of The Dragon follows, allowing Takagi to get his win back at the 22:03 mark. This was a really great match, and, look, people were tying themselves in knots trying to explain how Ospreay’s match with Ishii last week wasn’t very good (it was excellent), and I fear that these sort of views are because of how these people feel towards Ospreay personally. I’ve always tried to remove the person from the matches (I’ve often loved a Michael Elgin match, despite him being fundamentally loathsome in many regards), and thats my philosophy here. I get he’s a very divisive character, but he has great matches consistently. Anyway, thats all I have to say about that.

And in the main event, Jay White once again pinned Okada in a really good, though ultimately disappointing, encounter that couldn’t hope to follow its predecessor. Honestly, this Okada Cobra Clutch storyline is doing nothing for me. It’s even more alienating to me then the red-headed balloon bandit nonsense he had going on 2018. I understand the story they’re trying to tell; that Okada has ‘retired’ the Rainmaker in order to make this Cobra Clutch/Anaconda Vice thing his primary finish, and its all building to him using the Rainmaker again later down the road, but I just honestly don’t care. It just ruins the flow of his matches. You could work dramatic sequences around avoiding or getting out of a Rainmaker, or even trying to hit it, but this submission just isn’t hitting the same notes as far as I’m concerned. I’ve said since January that Okada just seems lost at sea when he’s not champion, and this is as glaringly obvious now as its ever been. White however has looked great since his COVID induced hiatus, and he looked really good in this one. This was marred slightly by too much Gedo involvement, who kept distracting Okada throughout. After Okada hit a Rolling Rainmaker, he locks the Clutch on for maybe the 7th time in the match, which prompted Gedo to distract Red Shoes whilst Jay hits a low blow (we’ve seen a ton of these in this G1 already, by the way, and we’re only five days in!), then tries for Blade Runner, but again gets caught in the Clutch. Dear Lord. White counters into a Sleeper Suplex, then hit Blade Runner to take the decisive win at 18:48. I mean, in terms of wins over Okada, this is almost as decisive as it gets. Switch Blade cut a promo in the post match, taunting the crowd and proclaiming the G1 to actually be the “Jay1″. 

NDT

#njpw #g1 climax 30 #review #g130 #kazuchika okada #jay white #shingo takagi #will ospreay #kota ibushi #tomohiro ishii #minoru suzuki #jeff cobb #taichi #yujiro takahashi #new japan pro wrestling #puroresu #wrestling review

[ofcloudsandstars]

Celestial Forecast

Week 17-23

Happy Pisces Season! 🐟✨This week will bring some exciting shifts before we end on the new moon's final cycle in Pisces! It will start off with Mercury retrograding in Pisces which will create a time of mental rest and exploration while some helpful lunar transits will help us to clear house and help break up old or outdated routines to try new things.

Some overall advice this week: Do not be afraid to try new things and experiment in areas that you were always drawn to but always gave excuses as to why you felt you couldn't explore them before. With the retrograde it's not a time to start new things but it gives a safe window for you to explore and experiment with new stuff noncommittally.

Some additional notes: I've decided to add in the details for lunar transits so the ☽ next to a transit signifies that. Lunar transits are brief but they add additional flavors to the 'mood' of the day so I find it important to add them in (also us witches follow the moon so it's important). Also I write for a witch community in London so the time is set to UTC and the week starts from Monday and ends on Sundays. 

17th

Mercury Retrograde in Pisces

☽ Moon in Sagittarius square Mercury in Pisces ☽ Moon in Sagittarius square Neptune in Pisces

Energy: Today is the beginning of Mercury's retrograde period. With mercury moving reverse in Pisces we can feel like illusions hidden in our reality will pop out and escaping through our normal means would not work as well at the moment. The moon in Sagittarius might still give a overall mood of optimism but today it will square both mercury and then Neptune in Pisces creating moments of confusion between one's thoughts and feelings, or one's emotions overpowering their logical minds and strange experiences that will leave you questioning reality. With the mixture of the optimistic Sagittarius moon and it's square with Neptune we may find that we are deluding ourselves or being deceived by others in effort to keep positive. It'll also be easy to over indulge and escape reality through substance abuse. The energy of this day could be used healthily by escaping reality safely such as taking an extra nap, watching films, or partaking in anything to satisfy your imagination. However with mercury retrograding in Pisces it's best to also look at tasks you may have been putting off or aim to face hard truths in your life so that you can learn the lessons quickly and find ways to resolve them. Taking too much time to avoid issues by escaping today may result in problems snowballing later.  

Recommendations: Shadow work babey! It's mercury retrograde. (Do some divination on what you might have been lying to yourself about and how to face those tasks or what inner issues may be blocking you). Meditation, rest

________________

18th

Sun enters Pisces ☀️🐟

VOC 9:03-10:36AM Moon enters Capricorn

☽ Moon trines Uranus in Taurus ☽ Moon conjunct Mars in Capricorn

Energy: It's Pisces season!! Time for dreaminess, deep sadness, lots of rain, strange astral plane adventures when you were just trying to take a nap, and unasked for empath-transmitted feelings. When the sun is in Pisces we are guided by altruistic feelings and we tend to get lost in our imaginations. However with mercury retrograding in Pisces for some weeks, this combo might bring up some less favorable aspects of Pisces season such as deep sadness and feeling victimized by life and elusiveness. The moon today will be in Capricorn which is a great day to organizing life and getting shit together. Use this energy to dive deep into your subconscious and clean house (moon is waning now so it's a great time to cleanse, shed and banish physically, emotionally or spiritually) or at least distract yourself from whatever nightmares are hiding deep down there by cleaning your whole room!! (Yes we are responsible adults what do you mean 'problems we may be avoiding?' I've ironed my bed-sheets!) I know some people adverse to like.. getting stuff done will probably read this day's energy vibe and be like: what is she talking about? But the moon is going to conjunct Mars in Capricorn, so you WILL have the energy and drive to karate-chop tasks off your list today. The moon is also trining Uranus so if you do want to make changes to your room or home this transit will favor it. Additionally this energy will urge you to want to make changes to your routine so if you do decide to take this motivating energy to make a change in life (and not delude yourself by ironing your bed-sheets) then you will be in favor to initiate change!

Recommendations: What have you been putting off forever? Do it. Make it magical by wearing hematite or drinking some intentions-made coffee or tea.

________________

19th

☽ Moon in Capricorn square Venus in Aries ☽ Moon in Capricorn conjunct Jupiter in Capricorn

Energy: With the moon still transiting ambitious Capricorn you will feel the power to get things done. Finish what is not finished (just don't start anything new with mercury retrograding). The moon will be making two interesting transits today which are the square it will make with Venus in Aries and conjunction with Jupiter in Capricorn. The two combinations will make today a wonderful day to socialize, be generous and will surge a need for love and affection. Luck is on your side today to tackle long standing obstacles and you will get support from loved ones. However with the square of course energy can go the other way meaning if you are alone or in an unhappy relation you could potentially feel sad and lonely on this day. (Even happier relationships could potentially undergo some uncomfortable moments but you can make up for it through acts of love or trying to please your partner).

Recommendations: brewing teas or coffees for energy and ambition (with the intention to get tasks done). Money spells, self love magic, alluring glamours (to get extra attention if you are feeling lonely and needy).

________________

20th

Jupiter in Capricorn sextiles Neptune in Pisces

☽ Juno rx in Libra square Moon in Capricorn ☽ Moon in Capricorn conjuncts Pluto in Capricorn  ☽ Moon sextiles Sedna in Taurus  ☽ Moon conjunct Saturn in Capricorn

☽ VOC 2:18-7:41PM ☽ Moon enters Aquarius

Energy: Today may feel a bit heavy but is promising as it helps to bring some awareness or enlightenment to anything that may be plaguing you (especially in the realm of romance or self worth). A major transit that will peak today will be Jupiter in Capricorn sextiling Neptune in Pisces. It will bring good energy, harmony and expansion to spiritual awareness or even enlightenment. This will be amplified by the moon in Capricorn conjunct Pluto which can bring up deep feelings hidden in the subconscious that may make you confront your shadows before you can gain the next level of awareness. To add to these flavors you also have Juno retrograding in Libra which will square the moon in Capricorn in addition to the moon conjunct Saturn in Capricorn which will all bring up very heavy and bitter feelings towards relationships not fulfilling our needs of affection or extreme loneliness. Finally the moon will sextile Sedna in Taurus which could be a beneficial connection to find the light in the dark of the situation. Though the other lunar transits will call for emotional maturity, the confrontation of our shadows, and caring for ourselves instead of seeking it in a partner, this sextile with Sedna along with Jupiter sextile Neptune could bring moments of enlightenment and finding ways to create something positive in our personal dark depths.

The moon will be void of course for most of the day so any spells you wish to send out should wait until the moon enters Aquarius which will bring a mood of improvement or need of change which could help change the pace if we are seeking ways to improve our behavior.

Recommendations: Shadow Work again but with more effort this time. Self-therapy exercises such as free-writing (free stream of consciousness writing), self care/self love magic, bath magic

________________

21st

Mars in Capricorn trines Uranus in Taurus

☽ Moon squares Uranus in Taurus ☽ Moon conjunct Ceres in Aquarius

Energy: Uranus the planet of surprises and changes is going to be making a few exciting cameos today in the realm of aspects. With Mars trining Uranus, we may get a huge drive to start new things (please don't) and with the moon squaring Uranus we will feel the pressure to seek out anything exciting. The two aspects together can create a drive for new experiences (which is ok with mercury retrograde as long as you are just exploring and not making any long term commitments), and also strong sexual drive and emotional impulsiveness. Finding a hook up today should come easy and you might suddenly find someone new that will catch your eye or an exciting infatuation but if you are in a relationship then try to channel this mars energy towards an ongoing project cause with the moon squaring Uranus, emotional outbursts and rapid mood swings especially with close ones could blow up today and drama could easily escalate.

With the moon conjunct Ceres in Aquarius we may feel the need to cater to ourselves or loved ones and would probably find emotional satisfaction in volunteering for the community or helping a friend. (Who knows if you are single you could probably find a hottie volunteering with you and that Mars trining Uranus could be pretty beneficial). Self-care or self fulfillment might arise in strange or surprising ways today (especially with the moon squaring Uranus). Treat yourself to something new like a new restaurant, dish, movie, or activity today. If you are low on money try a new hobby you've always wanted to check out. With mercury in retrograde its a good time to experiment, so even if you get that 'I can't start any new projects cause I have anxiety that it won't come out perfect' it doesn't matter cause you shouldn't be aiming to finish anything fool!! It's mercury retrograde!! Just bust open those watercolors you've been wanting to use forever and chill the fuck out!!

Recommendations: sex magic to attract opportunities, brewing coffees and teas with intention to get work done, protection magic, trying something new, doing blessings for friends and loved ones.

________________

22nd

Sun in Pisces sextiles Uranus in Taurus

☽ Juno rx in Libra sextiles Moon in Aquarius ☽ Moon conjunct Eros in Aquarius  ☽ Moon squares Sedna in Taurus

☽ VOC 4:08am-6:37am

Energy: The energy of yesterday can carry on to today but be amplified as the Sun in Pisces gets in the mix with the Uranian energies pushing new opportunities and excitement. The Sun will sextile Uranus in Taurus bringing pleasant surprises and stimulating encounters. Everything from creativity, socializing and discovering new things will be in focus today. Today may be awful to sticking to routines and will bring a lot of distractions but on the bright side with new experimentation can bring new routines and easier ways to doing things.

The lunar transits will add to this with the Moon conjunct the sexual asteroid Eros in Aquarius which will bring an intense emotional need to fulfill our passions and desires. New hook ups could seem appealing, new sexual explorations could be rewarding. With Juno rx in Libra sextiling the Moon in Aquarius we could feel longing to connect with someone who could bring these desires to reality OR with mercury retrograde we may feel the need to contact our ex lovers and re-unite (maybe don't.) To add to this Uranian dynamic of the day bringing surprises, new experiences and amplifying our passionate desires, the moon will square Sedna creating tension to find ways to manifest these desires to light. If this energy is ignored it may create tension where we will feel bitter and neglected or victimized by life (adding to another day in the string of us feeling lonely and that no one wants us to have exciting Eros in Aquarius sex with) but fear not as the life-giving energy of Sedna could be used in a way to channel this intense passionate emotional energy into art or projects. If projects aren't cutting it you can get it out through venting online. However the major solar transit flowing harmoniously with Uranus could bring about many exciting distractions that could help deter you from feeling low or calling your ex. (Who knows maybe you won't need an ex if you meet the hottie with the transits yesterday.)

Recommendations: Avoid manifestations since the moon is void of coursing for a chunk of the day. Use the time to reflect and focus on art or mental exploration. If you still crave some magical activities then consider making new magical tools or exploring a new aspect of your craft. Trying new things will be beneficial today. It will also be nice to start new things as the new moon is tomorrow so it could flavor the next lunar cycle.

________________

23rd

New Moon in Pisces

☽ Moon conjunct Mercury rx in Pisces ☽ Moon conjunct Neptune in Pisces

Jupiter in Capricorn squares Venus in Aries

Energy: This New Moon may bring some MESSY FEELINGS about. As if a Moon transiting Pisces wasn't enough, the new moon amplifying energy will cross over Mercury's retrograde and the ruler of Pisces, Neptune. In addition to all this Jupiter in Capricorn is going to square Venus in impulsive Aries. This hot mess sadness sandwich will bring a day of our ugly truths (usually being hidden by shimmery illusions to cope, now ripped off like a blistering band-aid mark thanks to Mercury rx) coming out to flaunt itself like a street flasher busting open his trench coat. With the moon conjunct Neptune along with Venus squaring Jupiter today will be the PRIME day where we will feel the deep urge to drown ourselves in over indulgence or escape. Escaping might not be as easy with the mercurial retrograde and you could even get consequences with overspending with the Venus x Jupiter square. In addition you should absolutely apply some self psychic-protection as the lunar transit conjunct Neptune will bring a huge sense of empath and psychic abilities which could be overwhelming and confusing.

To use the energy of today positively you should make the commitment to confront what has been bothering you or the truths you have been ignoring and make a plan this lunar cycle to act on it. New moon in Pisces allows us to accept imperfections in ourselves and take a leap of faith in something we have always believed in but were too afraid to put our trust in. Look deep within yourself to the dreams you have been neglecting or ignoring and act on them. That's what mercury might try to bring to the surface.

Recommendations: Vision boards! Art based magic, protection magic, affirmations to go after your dreams, purging/release by crying, making charm bags to help succeed in achieving our goals.

#astrology #witchblr #witches of tumblr #pisces new moon #new moon #pisces

[jeongyunhoed]

You’re traveling to another dimension It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity It is the middle ground between light and shadow, Between science and superstition It ties between the pit of man’s fears and the summit of his knowledge This is the dimension of imagination

An ATEEZ Twilight Zone!AU (masterlist here)

A/N: Just putting it out there, this is not a reader-insert fic. I know there’s a concern that’s raised about being inclusive in those kinds of fics, but I’d like to put it out there that usually my writings are not reader inserts. There are names to the OCs, but I’m still giving you the option to insert yourself in place of the OC instead if you want to. No hard feelings if you decide to unfollow me over that detail, it’s just how I write. Anyway, here is San’s chapter! I hope you all like it! 

VI. Asteroid Confinement (San)

Choi San looked up from his seat upon hearing the sound of a ship coming in for a landing. It was one of the four days of the year he looked forward to. He was a prisoner, sentenced to a lifetime under solitary confinement for murder. However, he didn’t serve his sentence in a traditional prison, but rather he was forced to live on his own in an asteroid that was orbiting between Mars and Jupiter, but nearest to Jupiter’s icy moon Europa, which was the moon he saw at night other than the smaller stars. It was all he could see in the sky from where he was. 

But it was day time, as San had calculated. Another day in his fourth year of being on the asteroid. He ran out of the house he lived in and towards the spacecraft that was landing. From the spacecraft came Captain Kim Hongjoong, followed by his two crew members, Jung Wooyoung and Jeong Yunho, who were both bringing down boxes of supplies. “I’m so glad you’re here, captain!” He said, glancing over at the crew, with Wooyoung begrudgingly bringing down the boxes Yunho was taking out of the ship. 

“We’re not going to stay here very long, San, we’ve only got fifteen minutes to bring you your supplies and leave. This asteroid’s orbit is shifting and if we stay any longer, we’ll have to wait fourteen days until conditions are favorable,” Hongjoong directed Yunho and Wooyoung to bring the boxes into the house. 

“But that’s not a bad thing isn’t it? What’s fourteen days? We could play board games, chess, I even made my own pieces!” 

“Let’s just go in,” Hongjoong said. 

“Four days a year, months away at a time, thousands of kilometers north, south, east, west,” Wooyoung grumbled as he put down the box he was carrying into the makeshift living room of the house San was living in. “Being away from my wife and kids, you know how hard that is?! My kids barely remember me, but you wouldn’t know that, would you?” He complained, shooting San a look. 

“Wooyoung, drop it and bring in the rest of the supplies,” Hongjoong ordered. 

San ignored the crew member and turned to the captain. “So, what did they say about my pardon?” He asked, looking hopeful. 

“San, I’m only just here to bring you the supplies you need and things to make living here a lot more bearable-” Hongjoong explained. 

“Your pardon’s been rejected by the courts,” Yunho spoke this time. “And they haven’t even started reviewing the murder cases yet.” 

“Four years in, and forty-six more to go, how does that feel?” Wooyoung taunted. 

Hongjoong glared at him. “You go and do what I tell you! Now. Including the big crate, and handle that one with care or else I’ll leave without you” 

Wooyoung frowned and went back out onto the ship, Yunho following behind but San could tell he looked just as satisfied at the news. “You and I know what really happened. I killed in self-defense, can’t they see that? I killed in self-defense! There are a lot of witnesses to it! The guy was trying to kill me! I had to fight back! I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m not a murderer!” San slumped down on the chair. 

“I know, and I believe you do, but my hands are tied and I can’t do anything about it. I’m just here to bring you your supplies and pass on news from Earth. Who knows what might happen in the next few years, they might transfer you to a regular prison on Earth like the old days-” Hongjoong looked apologetic. 

“Years? No, no, I don’t think I can’t take the next few years,” San shook his head. “I might die of loneliness out here, and knowing I have no other place to go is driving me crazy. I keep telling myself every day I wake up that this is my last day, I can’t stand being out here another day,” 

Hongjoong patted his shoulder, not wanting to say anything further about it. Wooyoung and Yunho returned with a large crate and set it down in front of him. San stared at the crate. “We’ll be off now. I got you more board games, books, and something else, something valuable, took a little more effort to get it here, and if the higher-ups find out, my head is on the chopping block,” He said. 

“I don’t want any gifts, all I want is a pardon. Captain Hongjoong, all I want is a pardon, a pardon!” San was on the verge of getting down on his knees and begging. 

Hongjoong said nothing, and instead stopped in front of the crate. “Open this only until after we’ve left, okay? When you do open it, there’s nothing much else, no assembly, no vacuum pack, the air in this place will do that, there’s also manual to answer your questions if you have any. See you in eleven months and take care of yourself,” He said. 

“Thanks,” San muttered. He watched them board the ship and slowly take off into the sky, past the atmosphere of the asteroid. He looked back at the crate Hongjoong was talking about. San pried the crate open with a crowbar and saw a woman inside, wearing a dress. He stepped back in a moment of surprise until he noticed a piece of paper that had his name on it. He took the piece of paper out to read. 

“Choi San, you now have in your possession a robot built in the form of a woman. For all intents and purposes this creature is a woman,” San read out. “Physiologically and psychologically with a set of emotions and a memory track. She has an ability to reason, to think, and to speak. She will also have a lifespan similar to that of a normal human being,” He paused to bring the robotic woman out of the box and making her stand upright. San picked up the paper again. “Her name is Miryo.” 

The woman’s eyes opened. “My name is Miryo, what’s your name?” She suddenly spoke. 

San stared at her, then looked back at the paper. He groaned in frustration and threw the paper down on the floor. He didn’t know what to say. She repeated the question. “I’m San, Choi San” He finally answered. 

Miryo approached him. “Are you hungry?” She asked. 

“No” San couldn’t help but feel annoyed, resentful, frustrated. He didn’t need a machine. He didn’t need a robot. All he wanted was a pardon. He noticed Miryo go into the kitchen, seemingly already knowing her way around the little house that was built for him. 

She returned, holding a glass of water. “I brought you something to drink,” She said. 

San faced the window. “Put it on the table,” He said. 

“You’ll get cold if you just stay there,” She said. 

San couldn’t help but scoff. “Yeah? How would you know?” 

“I can feel things” Miryo replied. 

“What else can you feel? Heat? Cold? Hunger?” San asked her. Miryo kept nodding. “ What about pain?” 

“I can feel pain too” Miryo replied. 

San sighed and looked out the window. “If you’re a robot, why didn’t they just leave you looking like one? Why do they have to make you look the way you do?” He felt her hand on his shoulder, and he turned around. Miryo put a hand on his cheek. San felt how warm it was, but pushed her hands away. “This is a lie, a lie, you’re not a real person, you’re a machine, nothing more than wiring and screws and microchips” He stormed out of the house. 

“San?” Miryo called out, following him. “San?” She called him again. 

“You’re just here to mock me. When you look at me and talk to me, all I can see is you mocking me” San grumbled. “I’m sick and tired of being mocked by the memory of women because all it does is remind me of how lonely I am, how I’m so lonely I’m going to go insane in this place” 

“San,” Miryo tried to speak, but he cut her off. She reached out to put her hand on his shoulder but he pushed her away. She fell over. She looked up at him and San noticed that there were tears in her eyes. “I can feel loneliness too.” 

San’s expression fell, and he bent down and wiped her tears away. “I-I’m sorry,” He said, helping her back up. 

~ 

A few months passed, and San had become used to having Miryo around. He was getting confused at times with his own situation, but there were moments, as San had realized, that Miryo was already mirroring his personality, his likes and dislikes also became hers. The more they were together, the more she was around, San felt the loneliness go away. He was no longer lonely, and he found himself falling in love with her. 

By night, the two of them sat outside, looking up at the stars that were in orbit. “We’re in the middle of Jupiter and Mars, and you see that moon over there? That’s not the moon we see on Earth,” San pointed to the sky. “That’s Jupiter’s moon, Europa. The sixth-biggest moon in the solar system, at least that’s what I read” He said, glancing at her. 

Miryo looked up in wonder. “It’s made of ice, isn’t it? That moon, Europa. Made out of ice” She said. 

“On the surface, yeah,” San nodded. 

She spotted something moving in the sky. “Is that a comet?” She pointed. 

San looked to where she was pointing. “No, that’s-that’s a ship,” He said. 

“But they won’t be here for another eight months, you said it yourself last time, not for another eleven months and three months have already gone,” She said. 

He smiled, finding her words endearing. “And the ship won’t be here for another eight months,” He said. “It’s passing by other asteroids before coming here.” 

Miryo turned to him. “Shouldn’t we go back inside?” She asked. 

San kissed her forehead. “No, we don’t have to. We’ve got time, as long as you’re with me.”

Miryo smiled. 

~ 

By morning, San and Miryo woke up to the sound of a ship making a landing. “San! San! San!” Hongjoong was yelling as he jumped down from the ship and running towards the house. “San! San!” He kept calling out to him. 

“What? What is it?” San opened the door to let him in. Wooyoung and Yunho followed close behind. 

“We’ve got good news,” Hongjoong paused to catch his breath. “All the sentences have been reviewed, you’ve been given a pardon!” He said. 

San looked taken aback. “...What?” He said. 

“A pardon, San. They’ve given you a pardon! You’re free to go! We’re taking you home!” Hongjoong said. “There’s not much time, we only have twenty minutes and we’ve been trying to steer clear of meteor storms on the way, and we’ve only got enough fuel left to make the trip home,” He said. 

“You better get your stuff together if you don’t want to stay here any longer” Wooyoung spoke. 

“We’ve picked up the others from other asteroids, we only have enough room for fifteen pounds of stuff, the rest you have to leave behind,” Hongjoong said. 

A smile was on his face before he realized it was. “I-I don’t have much stuff with me, some clothes, my stuffed dog shiber,” He said. “I feel bad for the next soul who has to be here. 

“There won’t be any next soul going here” Hongjoong shook his head. 

San sighed in relief. “I’m glad. Miryo and I will climb aboard the ship and wave goodbye to this place as we go home.” 

“Miryo? Who’s Miryo?” Yunho looked confused. 

“Oh my god, I forgot about her” Hongjoong said, realizing what San meant. 

“Who’s Miryo?” Yunho asked again. 

“A robot” Hongjoong replied. 

“She’s not a robot. She’s a woman,” San argued. 

“San, she’s a robot” Hongjoong pointed out. 

“Hongjoong, she kept me alive, she kept me sane, she’s a woman!” San insisted. 

“Oh, so that’s what was in the crate” Wooyoung said. 

“San, there’s no time to argue” Hongjoong. “We only have room for fifteen pounds.” 

“Then you’ll have to throw out some equipment. Miryo, she weighs more than fifteen pounds! She’s a woman!” San grabbed Hongjoong by the collar. 

“San, there’s no time, we only have room for your clothes and your stuffed dog, nothing else. We have to leave her behind” Hongjoong said, trying to reason with him. 

“She’s not a robot! She’s a woman!” San kept insisting. He turned to her. “Miryo, show them, Miryo, show them you’re real” 

Miryo looked confused. Hongjoong took out the gun from his holster. “I don’t have any choice but to do this to you, San, to make you see” He pulled the trigger, knocking Miryo out before San could stop him. 

“San, San, San, San, San,” Miryo kept calling his name. He slowly turned around to look at her, feeling disoriented and disillusioned from what he was seeing. Miryo’s face was destroyed, exposing the wires that were hidden underneath. 

“I’m sorry San, but you have to see that this is all behind you now, like a bad dream,” Hongjoong pointed out. “We have to go now, San, if we want to make it home on schedule,” He said. 

San was staring at the robotic body on the ground, nodding at what the captain was saying. “I have to remember that. I have to keep that in mind.” 

#ateez #ateez fics #ateez au #ateez scenario #san #choi san

[notwiselybuttoowell]

It is the latest in a long line of cuts being made across the BBC, which five years ago set itself a target of saving £800m a year by March 2022.

But while its annual savings are expected to rise above £950m by March next year, the BBC said the hardest cuts are yet to come and “further savings will involve difficult choices that will impact programmes and services”.

While the corporation announced plans last week to double its arts and music spending on BBC Two, it annual plan stated that “this approach will necessitate a shift away from commissioning a high volume of lower-cost programmes on BBC Four, which are less effective at reaching audiences on the channel and on iPlayer

Oh hell. I was very much afraid this would happen, but I was hoping the return of bbc three was an indication that four might be stable, rather than that it was on the chopping block. But the BBC has been so mismanaged lately, it's really just more of the same. God, it is the source of the BBC's best content! Truly sad news.

#bbc #bbc four #british television #television #arts and culture #tories

[alarawriting]

Writeober 2020 #23: Space

Through the polarized faceplate of her suit, the sun was a round, sharply edged disk of brilliance, sitting low to the horizon, surrounded by a black sky.  The polarization blocked the stars if she looked sunward, but nightward, once she let the plate adjust, she could see the earthshine of the half-planet hovering ghostly on the horizon.  The solar plates were a forest of bright mirrors around her, glittering only slightly less brightly than they had a week ago at high noon.

“Lavonne, you moving on to Serenity this week?”

Serenity.  She smiled bitterly to herself.  She stood now in the Sea of Crisis, Mare Crisium, and she didn’t know when she’d be moving on to Serenity again. At least she hadn’t been working at Fecundity this moonday – the irony would have been a little over the top. “No, I’m seeing Mal.  Gonna help bring the water trucks in and then it’s my days off.”

The com in her suit had lousy sound quality, and it was audio only, but she still thought she could hear Jenia’s grin.  “Oh, yeah, I forgot.  He’s coming in this run, isn’t he?”

“Comes in every other night. One month out, one month back.”

“Girl, you should get you a man on a short-hauler.  Or a Loonie boy right here.  I tell you, I couldn’t deal with my man being gone two months at a time.”

“It’s good money.  And he’s just going out to the ‘roids, it’s not like he’s on a Saturn hauler or something.”

“Uh-uh.  Not for me.”

“Well, good, ‘cause I wasn’t planning to share.”

Jenia laughed.  “You make sure he takes you somewhere nice with all that good money, then.”

“Nearest fine restaurant’s in Tranquility.  I only got him for three spins, I’d rather eat in the commissary or my apartment and stay in, if you get me.”

More laughter.  “Well, you have a good time whatever way you want it, then.”  A faint beep. “Got shutdowns to do.  I’ll talk to you later, girlfriend.”

“Later.”  Maybe much, much later. She wasn’t saying anything yet, not until she talked to Mal, but this was not going to be a funtime, playing around kind of visit.  Her career on the Moon was probably over, and what happened next depended on what kind of man Mal really was.

***

By two earthdays later, night had fallen.  Most of the crew had moved on with the sun, to Serenity or Tranquility or one of the farther maria like Imbrium.  Lavonne had stayed behind as part of the unloading crew to help the truckers unload their cargo.  It was a legitimate job, part of her regular assignments, but she’d gotten herself assigned to it because of her year-long romance with a trucker.  

Nighttime on the Moon was when the majority of the trucks came in.  Short-haulers came in from Earth with holds full of liquid nitrogen, hydroponic fertilizer, or trade goods, and needed to be loaded up with the fuel cells the solar arrays were here to manufacture.  Medium-haulers came in from Mars or the asteroid belt with water ice or metals from the mines out there.  The water ice, in particular, was vital to the operations here; the solar arrays electrolyzed it into hydrogen for the fuel cells and oxygen for breathing mixes.  Long-haulers came in from Saturn or farther with methane ice, more valuable than water ice because it packed tighter and generated more hydrogen per molecule, but less common in the asteroid belt and a lot more volatile.  Lavonne worked with the medium-haulers, unloading the water ice into the bays where it would be melted and readied to be electrolyzed next lunar sunrise.  When the time rolled around that she expected Mal to be coming in, she took a break from the ice bays and went directly to the cargo hangar.

Malachi Lazaroff was a tall, skinny guy with the oddly elongated limbs of the spaceborn.  In fact, for spaceborn he was short, just under two meters.  He had shaggy black hair in a perpetual mess and skin that might be nicely tanned if it ever went near sunlight, but instead was pasty pale with a grayish tinge to it. He had thick implanted contacts that made his big brown eyes look bigger than they really were, and he moved in Moon gee with the economical fluidity of a man who’d never kicked a ball on Earth. “Lavonne!”  He jumped down from the edge of his truck’s hold and reached her in three steps, grabbing her in a big hug.  “I am so glad to see you, honey, you have no idea!”

They were in the hangar, under pressurization – the ice could theoretically be unloaded topside, since it was night, but iceteroids were jagged and could rip a spacesuit, so truckers and loaders both preferred to bring the trucks all the way into the hangar when they’d fit.  So Mal could afford to be a little exuberant, but Lavonne wasn’t in the mood.  She extricated herself as soon as she could. “What’s wrong, Vonne?”

“Nothing,” Lavonne said, which wasn’t true, and “It’s been a bad month, that’s all, and I’m all tense,” which was.  “Looks like you got most of your haul unloaded already?”

“Yeah, I got in half an hour early.  Some other guy took a hit and got delayed, so I got his window.”

“A hit?  He okay, you know?”

“The way I heard it, he lost half his air when a microid punched a hole in his hull, and he had to detour to Little Mars to resupply after he patched it, but yeah, he’s okay.   He’s just not going to make it to Crisis with his haul; he’ll probably have to come in at Imbrium or maybe even darkside.”

When things went right, travel in space went like clockwork.  You could predict to the minute when a medium-hauler currently leaving the asteroid belt with a cargo of iceteroids would reach Luna, and where it would come in, if you knew the weight of the cargo and the exact position of the truck. The iceteroid haulers who supplied HydroGenius’ fuel cell manufacturing operations would try to come in as close to nightfall as they could.  Iceteroids couldn’t be brought in sunside, or the heat would sublimate them in the cargo holds, and the pressure of 200 metric tons of ice turning to steam had been known to blow ships apart.  But they needed to be in place, in water form, ready to be electrolyzed, when day broke again and the solar panels started back up.  This meant that the best time to bring in a cargo was within a spin or two – a day on Earth -- after lunar night fell, when the biggest hauls still had time to be processed before daybreak.  The big rigs were assigned timeslots and locations based on their cargo size, and if everything went right there would be no deviation.

Usually, things going wrong meant someone had ended up dead.  The hauler whose slot Mal took had been lucky, Lavonne thought.  Trucks could survive a hit from a micro if the trucker was fast enough to patch the damage before he lost too much air. Miniteroids and anything larger hitting a truck would usually blow it to bits.

“So you’re nearly done, here.”

“Looks like it,” he agreed. “You want to go to dinner?”

Lavonne made a face. “Commissary food ain’t shit.  I’ve got a kitchen unit in my apartment; why don’t I cook us up some spaghetti?”

“Sounds good. I love your spaghetti.”

***

She was putting this conversation off.

The kitchen was too small for two people to work, but Mal helped by chopping tomatoes and peppers for her in the tiny dining area. Chopping vegetables under luna-g was a skill in itself. It was too easy to do the work; an Earther’s arm would be too light. A recipe for accidentally chopping off your own finger because force you were used to using on Earth was too strong on the moon, and with greater strength and speed came less accuracy. Spaceborn like Mal were much better at it.

In theory, lunarborn would be even better, but there were no lunarborn. A tangled mess of international law prevented the Moon from either being under the control of any one nation, or under its own control, so there were nothing but company towns up here. And in a company town, you worked, and you went back to Earth if you couldn’t.

Spaceborn couldn’t return to Earth – the gravity would be too much for their hearts – but for them, it wasn’t returning. People born on the stations and outposts and ships had never seen Earth, and a generation after space travel had solved Earth’s energy problems, neither had most of their parents. People who lived on the Moon didn’t live here. Their legal homes were back on Earth. There were no facilities here for children or people too sick or disabled to work; if you got hurt or sick and you couldn’t work, you got shipped back to Earth. It was your home. The Moon was just a job site.

Except that if you’d been working on the Moon for five years or more, the Moon wasn’t just a job site. It was where all your recent work experience was, too. People returning to Earth because they’d quit the job couldn’t get new ones nearly as well-paid, and on Earth, you didn’t get a free place to live as part of most people’s employment… and you were competing with truckers and haulers and technicians who weren’t exhausted by the return to earth-g. No one Lavonne knew who’d left the Moon had a decent standard of living, now.

She got the sauce with its spices, the fake hamburger, and the tomatoes and peppers into pressure cooker 1, and took the spaghetti, nicely boiled, out of pressure cooker 2. “Just waiting for the sauce,” she said.

Lavonne could start talking about this. She could tell Mal the choice she faced, see what he was willing to do to help, see if there was any solution he could think of beyond the paths she’d thought up, paths she didn’t want to take. But she didn’t want to have to interrupt herself when the sauce came up. Also, she wanted to put this off as much as she wanted to have it behind her.

Mal filled in the gaps, telling her about his last run, the methane iceteroid he almost managed to catch, gossip about his spaceborn friends and family. She’d never met any of them, but he talked about them so often, it was like they lived next door. “…and Noah’s having his bar mitzvah month after next, so I was thinking, maybe you could take some vacation days and come out to Mars Station with me, meet my family? I’ve told them all about you and they’re dying to meet you.”

Lavonne was brought up short by the sudden question. Normally when Mal rambled, she didn’t need to listen too hard, and she certainly didn’t need to answer. Last month her answer would have been “yes”, and if she had a choice it would still be “yes”, but she had yet to talk to him. “That’s, uh. That’s lovely. I mean, I’d love to, if things work out.”

The sauce was ready, thank God. She ladled generous amounts onto the two bowls of spaghetti, and walked carefully, almost shuffling but with long strides, around the side of the counter to the tiny dining area. In a hangar, she could walk normally, but in her tiny apartment, with two bowls of spaghetti in her hands, that was asking for trouble. Keep the feet mostly on the ground, that was the way to not go flying.

“What do you mean, if things work out? Is – Are we having a problem? I didn’t think we were having a problem, I thought everything was going okay…”

“It’s not a you and me problem… well, it is, but not in our relationship… well, it kind of is about our relationship, but it isn’t… oh, fuck it. I’m pregnant, Mal.”

Mal broke into a broad smile. “That’s wonderful!” And then he read her face. “Or… it’s not. You… I guess we’ve never had the kids talk, have we? You don’t want kids?”

Lavonne sat down, as heavily as luna-g would let her. “Mal. You’re spaceborn. You’ve got no folks back on Earth. If you and I went off to Mars Station to live together with a kid, there’s no downside to you. But I’m Earther. I got Earth family, and if I have a kid on Mars Station, that kid’s never gonna see his gramma, his aunties, his uncle, he’s never gonna meet his cousins… I’ve got a big family, too. I love ‘em, too. I don’t want to cut a kid off from his heritage.”

“But I can’t go to Earth,” Mal said, nodding slowly. “Well… I feel like that’s a thing we could solve, I mean, people on Mars Station have kids with people on Lagrange 2 have kids with people on Phobos Outpost, and you just shuttle around between the two families. Isn’t it like that on Earth?”

“If both families are on Earth, sure. But…” She took a deep breath. “If I quit my job to go back Earthside, there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to get it back again any time soon. And you can’t take a baby into space. I’d be stuck down there, without you, until the kid is three… and without my job, I don’t know how I’d afford to get back up into space. You know, down there, you don’t get to just shuttle around the solar system. You’re rich as hell, or you work for one of the lunar corps or a space corp, or you have a government grant, or you’re in NASA or one of the other national space agencies… and if none of that’s true, you’re gonna spend your whole life down there. Maybe you can afford one tourist vacation, in your lifetime, if you scrimp and save for it.”

“Ah, shit.” Mal sighed. “Okay. I’m seeing the dilemma.”

He didn’t ask why she was pregnant. The laws that restricted human behavior on the Moon were heavily influenced by a number of very conservative governments. Birth control couldn’t be shipped to the Moon. Lavonne had been sourcing her birth control from a black market network that came in from the spaceborn, but the supply sometimes dried up for exactly the wrong few weeks. They’d used condoms, the only form of birth control you could get on the Moon, but in luna-g they worked really, really badly.

“So. I go down for a medical procedure and I get rid of it – and you know if I take a flight down to Sweden or something, they’re gonna know something’s up – or, we have to decide which side of the kid’s family he’ll lose out on ever getting to meet. And if we leave out space, you, his dad, you won’t be able to be with him until he’s grown up enough to get his own moon job. But if we leave out Earth, he’ll be cut off from it forever.” It was also company policy that employees who could get pregnant could not get abortions, and doing so would be justified grounds for dismissal. The company wouldn’t be able to tell she was going down for that reason – but if she went home to the United States, she couldn’t get one without being rich, and if she went from there to Europe that would kill a good bit of her savings, but if she went directly down to the countries where it was legal, the company did know where her family lived, and that it wasn’t Europe. And because the company provided all the medical care up here, if they had good reason to suspect her, they could pull her medical records from Earth.

“That… is a really shitty choice to have to make,” Mal said. “I’m sorry. They should let people form a colony on the Moon. This whole ‘you can’t really live here, you can’t have kids on the moon’ thing is bullshit.”

“Tell me about it.”

He shook his head. “I know… I know my folks would be crushed if I had a kid and they couldn’t see him. But I’m guessing yours would too.”

The Jewish families in space were tight-knit, with a strong focus on families, because all over Earth the Jewish diaspora was like that, after generations of pogroms and antisemitic violence. The Black families in the United States were the same way, after hundreds of years of overpolicing and perverse incentives had destroyed the connection between Black men and the rest of their families, over so many generations. Both Mal’s parents and Lavonne’s would see the loss of a grandchild to a place they could never go as heartbreaking.

“Yeah,” Lavonne said. “I just don’t know what to do.”

#writeober 2020 #alara's october 2020 prompt fics #mare crisium