inconspicuously

Sticks Are Hard (Clony)

“Sticks Are Hard.”

Prompt: Consider this: post-tapes pining Clony pre-slash. Tony offers to teach Clay how to drive a manual as an ‘inconspicuous’ excuse to spend time with Clay now that the tapes are behind them.

Pairing: Clony (Clay x Tony), 13 Reasons Why
Count: 444 Words - sorry it is so short, I didn’t really know how to fill this one out.
Tags: innuendos, pre-slash, pining!Tony, straight!Clay (mostly straight, at least)

***

Tony followed Clay out into the parking lot, gently shouldering him as he fell into pace. “Hey stranger.” Tony smiled, his eyes flickering between Clay’s.

“Hey, Tony.” Clay replies. “How are you?”

“This is very formal.” Tony frowns. “Everything okay?”

Clay laughs, in a short, sharp way that suggests everything was some kind of joke. “Not really. My parents are mad about the tapes. Well, about the fact I didn’t tell them that the dead girl left a suicide note. But anyway.” Clay’s expression is so clearly pained that Tony ignores it, not wanting to force Clay into a conversation.

Tony shrugged, and unlocked his car. “If you want, you could spend this afternoon at mine. I could even teach you how to drive this ol’ thing, if you’d like.”

There was a short nod, before Clay opened the passengers side door; he did find it slightly weird that Tony would let him in the driver’s seat, let alone drive his beloved car. He didn’t question it too much, more glad for the fact he had somewhere else to go. They’d only just gotten out the school gates when Clay blurts, “I heard about you and Brad. I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t going to last anyway.” Tony said, shutting down the conversation before it happened. While there was truth to what he said, it was the boy sitting next to him that really caused his relationship to end.

“Are you fucking kidding? Clay Jensen, of all people?”

“Talk about him like that again. I swear to God, Brad.” There’s a dangerous laugh that follows Tony’s words.

***

Afternoons were spent like that. With several innuendos every time, and only Tony seemed to pick up on them.

Clay: “You’re better at a stick than me!”
Clay: “This sucks, I hate sticks.”
Also, Clay: “I can’t work the stick.”
Surprisingly, Clay: “I’m putting it in reverse, the stick won’t move.”
Probably getting very homoerotic, Clay: “Sticks are hard.”

After the second week, there was very little that they could improve on, because Clay had made zero progress. So, on the Thursday afternoon, they sat in Tony’s bedroom, while Clay worked on homework. Tony stared at him, tracing the hunched over figure several hundred times, and never getting sick of how Clay looked when concentrated.

***

Week three rolled around, and slowly passed. It wasn’t until they were sitting on Clay’s bed, with Clay’s fingers tracing the cross and semicolon tattoo that things really went anywhere. Tony could say, from personal experience, that straight guys didn’t normally do that. So who could blame him when Tony caved, and kissed Clay?

Clay certainly didn’t blame him.

100 Tips for the Secret Witch! 

  1. Use a shoe box to hide your more obvious items.
  2. Keep herbs stored in ziploc bags to easily conceal them.
  3. Take up “rock collecting”.
  4. Candles and incense because they “smell good!”
  5. Use an Altoids tin as an altar.
  6. Buy crystal jewelry.
  7. Use perfume to cleanse.
  8. Essential oils can be used in place of most herbs and are less obvious.
  9. Get into cooking, buying herbs is justified then. Plus, kitchen magic!
  10. Use old makeup/perfume/mason jars for spell jars.
  11. You can use almost any necklace as a pendulum.
  12. Use spice jars for tiny spell bottles.
  13. Put an altar in a spare drawer.
  14. Playing cards can be used in place of tarot cards and are very common.
  15. There are a lot of virtual apps geared towards witches that are easily hidden.
  16. You can put sigils, tiny crystals, among other things in lockets to hide them but be able to wear them.
  17. Farmer’s almanacs are just as good as the witch geared ones if you add some information to them, and they are more mundane.
  18. Acorn caps make good biodegradable offering cups.
  19. Get into crafts! You can make some really cool witch stuff that can also just be taken as “artsy”.
  20. Taking a few pinches from your parent’s kitchen cabinets is never a bad idea . Unless caught.
  21. Store things in big, boring looking books.
  22. Seashells and rocks with natural holes make great windchime elements.
  23. You can say your bos/grimoire is a dream journal, which are fairly common and not suspicious.
  24. Draw sigils on with lotion or washable marker.
  25. A tea bag in your clothing drawer can help imbue clothing with the attributes of the tea you use.
  26. Draw sigils on the bottom of your shoes.
  27. Make a virtual altar instead of a physical one.
  28. Always remember to clear that browsing history!
  29. Draw small sigils on your nails then cover them with nailpolish.
  30. Pretty much everything at a craft store can be used for witchcraft. Except maybe the older people who shop there.
  31. You can buy really really small jars online and make them traveling spell jars.
  32. You can enchant jewelry to keep spells close to you.
  33. You can make friendship bracelets/lanyards with colors corresponding to your intent.
  34. Enchanting something you wear daily like glasses or shoes with a ward is something that could be done if one doesn’t wear jewelry.
  35. If you’re into sewing/cross-stitching: incorporate secret sigils into the design.
  36. You can grow plant ingredients under the guise of eating healthier.
  37. Buy soap/shampoo etc with scents to match different intents.
  38. Pencil cases are inconspicuous!
  39. You can use birthday candles instead of actual candles.
  40. Obtaining scented candles a covert way of having colored candles… and if you want scentless you can just say you like the aesthetic but not the smell.
  41. Bath salts can have magical intent and be just as effective as a for bath.
  42. Doodling is a great way to cover up sigils in a notebook.
  43. Grow plants. Collect rainwater. Say rainwater is for plants. Cackle to self.
  44. Make a private discord server for taking to deities.
  45. Threads that hang off of clothing or coats are good for thread magic so long as you don’t have to do a ton with them.
  46. Cleaning and cleansing go hand in hand.
  47. Virtual or sketched altar.
  48. Usually the isle that carries Ethnic food carries SUPER cheap herbs.
  49. All astrology is just you getting really into horoscopes.
  50. If you want a more accurate birth chart, ask your parents for your time of birth. Say it’s out of curiosity.
  51. Weird witch stuff lying around? You like the aesthetic from Charmed.
  52. Sigils don’t have to be considered witchcraft. Say they’re like a good luck charm.
  53. Make your own jewelry, beads, gems,threads, color correlation, etc.
  54. Pinterest boards are great for various things. Dedicating things to deities, saving spells, etc.
  55. Stuffed animals as representations of deities.
  56. Thread magic = sewing and crocheting.
  57. Side blogs on Tumblr are similar to pinterest boards!
  58. Sigils on the bottom of hair spray cans for glamours.
  59. Nail Polish = color correlation.
  60. Quote: “My room smells weird so that’s why I’m burning like 100 candles and some incense”. Works every time.
  61. You can make your own tarot cards with inconspicuous symbols and photos on them, say they’re drawings.
  62. Fairy lights in your room because they “look cool”.
  63. Put your bos in something that looks like a school notebook.
  64. Leave offerings outside if safe. Bury them! But don’t bury things that are bad for the enviroment!!!
  65. If you want to use a ouija board, there are quite a few virtual ones.
  66. Any herbs you can get be purely for tea and nothing else.
  67. If someone catches you meditating, tell them it’s for relaxation.
  68. Draw sigils on the top of your ceiling fan. The fan will charge them while on! - Not recommended you do with a permanent marker!
  69. Draw a sigil on the charger base of your electronic devices.
  70. Charge your makeup/hair products/perfume/cologne up with whatever you’d like.
  71. Lemon water makes a great cleansing spray and is usually not suspicious.
  72. Sigils inside your phone case!
  73. Enchant your jewelry or watches.
  74. Draw a sigil with a white crayon on paper.
  75. Put a pouch of herbs in your clothing drawers, if someone finds them, say it’s to decrease bad smells.
  76. Incorporate magic into art.
  77. Write poetry to your deities.
  78. Study herb pouch and gemstones in your backpack.
  79. Oils and herb pillow for your glasses case to encourage clear vision.
  80. Make your own paper and use flowers/seeds/etc to create a design.
  81. Sticky notes for sigils inside a school locker.
  82. Correlate your clothing to your intent that day.
  83. Sigils on a hair ribbon or enchanted ribbon.
  84. Put your intent into your food and drinks.
  85. Learn to make your own tea.
  86. Keep a penny in your pocket for luck.
  87. Google drive vs physical bos if you’re worried about your parents seeing it
  88. Slowly start buying candles and bam you wont be questioned because they are just candles!
  89. Craft store stars painted with black-light paint placed on your ceiling in constellation arrangements.
  90. Drink fruit infused water/tea.
  91. Carry salt in old film bottles or similar cases to help cleanse your purse or bag.
  92. Salt packets are free at fast food places.
  93. Enchant your bank account/wallet/piggy bank/etc so that it charges your money!
  94. Use travel size medicine bottles to hold random mini witch things: twig,  pebbles, sand, salt, etc. 
  95. Draw elemental items to encourage their energies around you.
  96. Leave sticky notes with magical symbols on your desk or in your locker to generate positive energy for the next school day overnight.
  97.  Terrariums and shadowboxes have always been popular, make it your altar or invitation to the fae.
  98. Fairy gardens have been a thing for a long, long time. They’re not suspicious and very good for attracting the fae!
  99. Enchant counter bowls of fruit or breads so that the food decays slower.
  100. Remember that no matter what, whether you can openly practice or not, that you are just as valid of a witch!  

so i’m at the doctor’s again and i see a notecard on the reception desk that asks in bright red ink, Do you want to live forever? 

finally, i think, finally i’m at the start of a vampire novel. i don’t actually want to live forever, but i’m not about to turn down a call to adventure like that. i try to flip the card over as inconspicuously as possible. 

the other side contains a bible verse about keeping jesus in your heart. 

i hate living in the south.

Friendly reminder that Guzma accomplished his childhood dream before you even finished your trials. You know, how he wanted to be a Trial Captain and all, but was rejected? Yeah. He accomplished that. Don’t believe me?

Po Town was his bug trial. Consider this: the player goes to Po Town as a distraction so Skull could escort Lillie back to Aether. In order for this to work they had to know where you were, what you were doing, and have a plan to keep you busy long enough to keep you out of the way. So what does Guzma do? He sets up barricades. Trial barricades. And puts grunts out at strategic positions. And lets his grunts keep running their Pokemon Center. Well, that’s all incidental, you might think. They make money from running their center, anyways, so why not let them keep on with it? Besides the part where it would be infinitely easier to let you exhaust your pokemon with your limited resources and have all of his grunts hold you hostage with their healthy, energetic pokemon.

Of course, then you get into the mansion, and that’s when the trial really starts. Every trial in the game has you complete a certain task. You know, defeating a bunch of pokemon, taking pictures, answering quizzes… or finding passcodes. I mean, let’s be honest, here. Team Skull probably doesn’t use passcodes to get to Guzma. They can all tell they’re Team Skull. They have very specific threads. and they don’t ever stop moving their hands. They know when they’re talking to another grunt, and if there’s something urgent they have to tell him there’s no time to have to sit and go through his whole dumb password routine—and even if they did, remember, this whole thing was planned ahead of time. Guzma could have easily coerced his grunts into not saying shit about the passwords and make you waste more time going allllll the way up only to figure out you had to go running around to figure that shit out. But nope. There was one grunt, who decided to tell you very loudly about oh man these passwords are so hard to remember you know those two entire things about Guzma that anyone living in that mansion would know, plus making sure to say no at the end aw jeez aw man whoops I guess I just lost this information somewhere in the mansion and am making no move to try and head you off before you find it haha.
He told you what Guzma wanted him to tell you.

So you get the passwords, and you head on up to see Guzma, but he doesn’t have a totem pokemon or anything, so for your trial you just have to beat him, instead. This isn’t the first time you fought him, and it hasn’t even been very long since the first fight, either. He knows you’ve beaten him before. He knows you might very well beat him again. And he has this entirely inconspicuous treasure chest filled with Buginium Z. You know. That Z-crystal he stole from EVERYONE ELSE IN THE ENTIRE GODDAMN REGION because he didn’t want anyone else to have it. That Buginium Z. “Well obviously he wants to show it off since he thinks he’s hot shit!” you say, and yeah, that’s probably why he usually leaves it out. Except, remember, he knows you’re coming. He knows he may or may not win. And even then, if he didn’t want you to have the Buginium, he could have just hidden the chest or closed the lid and sat on it. You’re eleven. He’s twenty-something and the tallest character in the game. He could have just put his hand on your forehead and you wouldn’t have been able to reach it. Instead, he leaves it out. Leaves it open. And leaves you alone in his throne room after you beat him. You know. With his prized treasure that he thinks says he’s the most badass Bug trainer in Alola. If he didn’t want you to have a Buginium, he would have damn well made sure you never even saw it. You beat him. He lets you have it.

So you take the Buginium that he’s left sitting out on “accident” and head back out through the mansion, maybe taking one last look for shit before you go because you steal everyone’s things without remorse, and on your way out of Po Town, you notice the barricades are gone. The trial barricades that you can only pass through when you’ve defeated a captain’s trial, like they told you wayyyy back in the very beginning of the game. They could have left those up to slow you down a little bit more, give Lusamine a little more time without having to worry about you getting in the way, but instead Guzma’s let you waltz out without having to jump through any hoops—he left before you, remember. He’s the one who had them taken down.

You have to keep in mind that all of this was planned. That they needed a way to keep you busy so they could take Lillie. That Guzma knew you were coming and had plenty of time to prepare. So you leave Po Town, continuing on your adventure under a little bit more pressure than before, but Guzma? Jackass he may be, for one pokemon battle of one hour of one day, Guzma did the one thing he’d ever wanted to do in the first place:

Guzma was a Trial Captain.

anonymous asked:

Consider this: post-tapes pining clony pre-slash. Tony offers to teach Clay how to drive a manual as an 'inconspicuous' excuse to spend time with Clay now that the tapes are behind them.

Thank you for this request!! I wish it was longer but I didn’t know how to flesh it out - Here :)

A Simple Suggestion

Originally posted by akumatisedmari

So I had a dream last night. A dream that Ladybug and Chat Noir moved out of their homes into a studio apartment together so they could be around each other and get to akuma attacks quickly and always be alert.

But they never detransformed. They were always suited up and just lived together like two best friends and kept the city safe.

@philosophy-and-coffee said it’d make a neat fic idea and had a few cute ideas to add on to it, so…naturally, I wrote it. 

A Simple Suggestion
Summary: Breaks from patrol often allow time for Ladybug and Chat Noir to talk and be themselves. But when a silly joke starts to seem all that…well, not silly, the two find themselves considering something neither of them had ever before: moving in together. 
The tricky part is still keeping their identities a secret.
Rated: G (might change to T later)
Pairing(s): Ladybug/Chat Noir

Chapter 1 - A joke
Word count: 1,464
Read on: ao3 | here


It had started out as a joke.

Chat Noir had thrown the idea into the air one night when they’d taken a break from patrol. The city was quiet, the breeze that danced through the open sky was refreshing, and the laughter that had accompanied his voice had made Marinette smile all too wide.

“What if we moved in together?” he’d asked with a nervous twitch of his tail. “I’ve been preparing to move out for a while, but…I don’t know. Something about the thought of living alone makes me nervous.”

“You mean-” Marinette’s eyes widened. “Us? Move in together? Like, Ladybug and Chat Noir living together?”

“Yeah,” Chat laughed. “What if?”

At first, she’d given her partner nothing more than a chuckle and a dismissive pat on the shoulder, shaking her head at the simple notion. It had been such a funny thing for him to suggest that the giggles that rose from her throat had been all too hard to suppress. Even if she secretly didn’t despise the idea, she knew it would never work out.

“How would we even manage that?” she asked, swinging her legs over the ledge of the apartment complex they had paused upon and taking in a breath of the atmosphere. She could detect a small hint of food cooking somewhere, and in the distance music played, which added to the comforting ambiance of the city she adored so much. “We’d just walk around in our own home transformed, like it was a completely normal thing?”

Chat Noir offered a shrug, looking a tad sheepish. “Hah, yeah, I guess that does sound kind of stupid.”

A frown replaced Marinette’s smile, and she felt a small hint of guilt for her previous comment. “Well,” she said in an attempt to fix her blunder. “I don’t know about stupid…”

“It would probably be weird,” Chat continued, “and awkward at times…and it wouldn’t be easy…”

Marinette nodded.

“…but I dunno,” he sighed, shifting his gaze. “Part of me thinks we’d be able to make it work.”

Allowing the thought to process, Marinette tapped her finger along the aged paneling of the roof they sat atop, teeth nibbling on her bottom lip as she sought for a reply.

Would they be able to make it work?

After all, she’d been thinking about moving out of the bakery soon due to space, and she didn’t like the idea of living alone either…and Alya was already sharing an apartment Nino…

“Maybe,” Marinette said, a hint of humor in her voice. “But we’d be together all the time, and I can’t exactly picture myself cooking dinner wearing a skin-tight suit. Even if it would protect me from burns.”

Chat supplied a small snort of laughter at her statement. “I guess that’s a bonus. Would living together be so weird, though?”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer with a “yes, of course!”, but paused as she couldn’t exactly find an explanation why it would be so odd for them to live together under those circumstances. Sure, it’d feel a bit off to walk around an apartment with her suit on, but by now Marinette was used to wearing polka-dots for long hours. She felt more natural in her transformation than she ever had five years prior when she was fourteen, freshly new to the world of superheroes and saving the city, and for a brief second the thought that maybe Chat’s idea wasn’t such a stupid one passed her mind.

It would be a hell of a lot more convenient for the both of them. They wouldn’t have to worry about when the other would show up during akuma attacks, or struggle going through a battle alone while one of them was on their way.

(Or, on the rare occurrence that a certain Ladybug slept in late during a rather difficult akuma attack, Chat Noir wouldn’t have to suffer through another hour of holding a violet butterfly within his paws and panicking over what he should do with it.)

A small grin twitched at the corner of Marinette’s mouth before a second thought passed her mind, causing the hint of a smile to fall.

She knew Chat Noir was dying to get out of his house. Nineteen years old and still suffocating under the watchful eye of his parents (parent?), Chat often expressed his sorrows about his home life with a forlorn sigh. Though he never delved too deeply into personal details, Marinette could tell just by the carefully worded sentences that he was having a difficult time staying happy in the house he’d lived in since he was a baby.

And, although she couldn’t relate, Marinette did feel for her friend. There were often times where she had considered begging Tikki to let them reveal their identities to each other just so she could take Chat Noir to the bakery and gift him a place to live that he looked forward to coming home to.

(Too many nights had she found Chat patrolling the city when there hadn’t been a scheduled patrol, after all.)

And now the words were on the tip of her tongue; the confirmation she knew her partner was secretly hoping for notwithstanding the fact that he was writing it off as a joke.

A joke that tugged at his lips in a sort of dejected smile that did not—would not—reach his eyes.

“I wonder how that would work,” Marinette whispered, eyes falling to the city streets below, where cars trailed lazily down the two-way street in a pale river of yellow lights. “Maybe we could make it work.”

One of Chat’s velvet ears twitched against his shaggy blond hair, and his eyes met hers for a fleeting moment. Even in the second of shared eye contact Marinette could see the tiny spark of hope that glowed within them, and she couldn’t stop the smile that began to spread across her face.

Maybe they could move in together. Sure, she’d have to talk to Tikki about it first, and they’d have to find an inconspicuous apartment in the middle of the city together, and it would wouldn’t be easy…

But…

But…no. That was just silly.

A silly, silly idea. It wouldn’t work out. How would they keep their identities secret? How would they be able to live life as normal civilians and go about their daily duties—work, university, grocery shopping—without revealing themselves?

You’ll never know until you try, a little voice peeped in the back of Marinette’s mind. What could be so bad about it?

What could be so bad? Well, they could accidentally come home destransformed, or sleepwalk in their pajamas, or both walk up to the front door at the same time without their suits on, or, or-

Or…what?

All of those situations could easily be avoided. They could set rules. Marinette could make masks so they wouldn’t have to be transformed all of the time, or they could turn out the lights every now and then. Or maybe they could set certain days where they would stay transformed so they could hang out.

Huh…the whole idea was beginning to seem a lot simpler than it had been three minutes ago.

Yeah, Marinette replied to the earlier thought, what could be so bad?

She knew of plenty of things that could be bad, as her anxiety had ways of creating the most outlandish situations. For now, however, she ignored them.

Looking over to Chat Noir, Marinette smiled, giving his back (which was slumped over in a sad sort of way) a gentle pat. He responded by sitting up straight, a question on his lips and hope in his gaze, ears perked up in interest. They stared at each other for a breath or two before Marinette exploded into a fit of laughter, her stomach clenching with the force of of her chortle.

Chat flinched at first, obviously surprised by her sudden outburst, but a second later he joined her in the ocean of giggles that had flooded between them. His smile was so wide that Marinette could see the white glint of his teeth and lovely crinkles around his eyes, as well as the shake of his shoulders and a single tear—whether it be from laughter or relief—that slid down his cheek.

And that was how Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladybug, nineteen-year-old baker’s daughter found herself transformed and heaving box after box into a studio apartment smack dab in the middle of Paris a month later with a black cat trailing just a step behind her, placing a few of his own boxes on the wide, empty wooden floor.

It had been a crazy, crazy idea.

But sometimes, Marinette knew, the craziest of ideas were the best of all.

Sniffles

One for the always lovely, @loonylittlemoony. You asked me to stop attacking you…I have a problem with listening, I think. ;)  Loads of love for you- Sar! x 

(also… I’m not sorry about the cliche title, you’ll see why.) 


You heard it before you recognized  it.

It was a week ago, over morning tea. Harry had been in his usual seat at the island in your kitchen, one hand wrapped around  his cup of tea and the other holding his phone while he swiped through his notifications.  You were standing on the other side, sipping at your cup of coffee and thumbing through a magazine that come earlier that week. 

Mornings were a peacefully quiet affair for the most part with Harry and you. After a good portion of it was spent with him whining and holding you hostage under the covers with him, you two would get up and get ready on your own pace.  Popping in and out of the bathroom and bumping hips, the occasional pat to your bum as he walks by. Yet you always made time to share a cuppa before you were off on your separate ways.

At first you think it’s your imagination, or perhaps just a coincidence. Your eyes pause in their trail across the words for a moment, corner of the page caught between your index finger and thumb as you listen closely. You wait for the noise to sound again, but instead you hear the sole sound of Harry sipping his tea. You bite your lip and go back to the article.

When it happens again, though, twice in succession you look up with a frown. 

Keep reading

Witch Tip:

Put enchantments on hair ties. You can even incorporate colour magic (if thats your thing) into it. Its so inconspicuous no one would even think to suspect a thing. You can wear them around your wrist, in your hair, or just carry it in your pocket!

Witch Tip

Don’t have enough money to buy bottles and jars for spells? Can’t find any small containers near you? Are you a closet witch like me and you don’t want a bunch of obvious spell bottles lying around? No worries, there are a lot of alternatives! Some things I use for spells/hexes/potions/etc. include:

  • empty water bottles or gatorade bottles
  • makeup containers after I’ve used all the makeup
  • ALTOIDS TINS (these are great because they’re inconspicuous and not see-through)
  • Gum containers like eclipse or mentos (also not see-through)
  • empty perfume bottles
  • reuse empty food containers (jelly jars, honey containers, etc.)
  • empty pill bottles/vitamin containers

Basically the possibilities are endless, just make sure to wash out the containers before you use them! Feel free to add to this post if you can think of any more.

In Motion (M)

Character: Jeon Jungkook x oc/reader (with POV switches)

Genre/words: Smut / 6,721 words

Summary: The rule is simple - you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times but it was only when a certain boy arrives at one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside

Warning: exhibitionism, public display of masturbations, graphic smut scenes, mutual masturbations, mentions/use of sex toys

Warning 2.0: this is only the beginning

(Cr.)


Keep reading

Fueled By Desire (NSFW 18+)

A/N: So, today has been a crazy day but I started writing this last night and wanted to post it tonight ! So I wrote it in virtually 24 hours, so I hope it didn’t suck to bad. I planned on posting it earlier but I had a bit of writers block. This a Theo smut that you can thank @hardladyheart for. She’s filled my mind with dirty Theo thoughts. (Fun fact’ this gif is actually mine and my blog name used to be twfanfic-af)

Thanks to: @writing-obrien and @hardladyheart for editing and proof reading.

Warning: SMUTTTTT

Word Count: 2803

Originally posted by stilinski-jpeg

Keep reading

Gem Class Analysis: Pearls

Prior to the recent Steven Bomb, some of the most divisive fan theory characterisations have been for Blue and Yellow Pearl. Theories would range from their having a close and intimate relationship with the Diamonds, to their being physically abused, to it sometimes being a mix of both.

And we can understand the source of what seems like a contradiction. That these Pearls, in particular, are serving the Diamonds directly puts them in a very privileged position, not exactly in the modern sense of the word.

That Pearls are in such close contact with the ruling elite makes them privy to the goings on of upper Homeworld that other gem classes would remain ignorant to. At the same time, they’re also living objects, dehumanised and treated as utilities rather than individuals.

It’s a unique position of power and powerlessness and, unconsciously, we as fans pick up on that; hence, the muddled characterisations of what their relationship with their Diamonds would have been like.

In the latest Steven Bomb, we got to see more of all of these characters and we know now that their relationship isn’t one or the other but somewhere in between.

“Oh no. It was very serious. When I still served Homeworld, I saw it myself.”

In that regard, I want to talk about how Diamonds and their Pearls relate to each another, and look at the implications this has for our very own Pearl, who admits she served Homeworld at one point.

1. The function of the Pearl class

To get this out of the way as early as possible, Pearls are being dehumanised. It’s not right to limit an entire class of gems to objects and prevent them from having individual inclinations, when other gems can manage some level of individuality. Pearls are individuals with their own capabilities, thoughts, and feelings.

Even before we knew about the Diamonds, the way other gems like Peridot initially treated our own Pearl showed us that Pearls are one of the lowest classes on Homeworld.

Words like “owner,” “stand there,” and “hold your stuff” were being thrown around. Not much was expected from them.

In light of all the new information received, a consolidated understanding of what Pearls were expected to do on Homeworld would help in the succeeding discussions. And what we know is that Pearls were gems created specifically to serve particular individuals. This service did not entail doing a job like other gem classes.

Other gems serve a specific function in servicing gem society as a whole. Like builders, soldiers, technicians, and leaders.

This public- or collective-oriented approach to organising gem society makes a lot of sense considering the way the gem life cycle is perpetuated.

The reason we don’t have gem classes specifically for private affairs, like the home life, is because their concept of “home” is much different from ours. Gems are born as full adults; they don’t need to eat or sustain themselves physically. That means a lot of our human necessities don’t apply to them.

That in turn puts the service sector of Gem society, where Pearls are, as something extraneous to functioning. 

It’s much the same for social constructs. Would the Ruby Squad consider themselves a “family?” Probably, but not in the way we understand the word. Instead of families, gems are groups into classes. And in these classes they socialise each other on what it means to be the gem they are.

The best example of this would be the soldier gems, who train each other and depend on each other in missions.

Leggy, the newbie “just born yesterday,” according to Rebecca Sugar’s early sketches of the Rubies, was being oriented by her more senior teammates.

Even though we felt threatened by the Ruby Squad, and Eyeball in particular, Leggy had absolutely no fears hiding behind the latter and it’s more than clear their shared experiences made them more cohesive as a unit.

In that way, gems don’t seem to spend a lot of time with gems outside their class.

The very “function” of Pearls is very different from that of other gems. Their work is relegated inward into the private sphere. They attend to very specific individuals. They are always with gems who aren’t like them.

And the key to this is the value system on Homeworld.

I talk about the utilitarian nature of Homeworld a lot of the time. So in a society in which utility is one of the key aspects, having work that is visible, like the creation of buildings or the colonisation of planets, puts a high premium on certain types of gems.

Service is invisible.

It’s not as easy to measure the impact of telling people they’re great everyday has on the rest of their lives. But this is the work Pearls do. Their work makes Pearls appear like they’re of even less use, which in turn puts them lower down in the eyes of individuals.

It’s very similar to how the work of medical nurses wasn’t recognised as legitimate until very late on in the history of medicine. Nurses comforted patients, checked on them daily, and attended to them, while doctors stepped in for a diagnosis and prescribed the treatment plan.

Because one involved something tangible and the other involved the daily grind of caring for another human being, the “usefulness” of latter was taken for granted.

It was (and in many places still is) very difficult to quantify the effects of their contribution and they were viewed lowly.

2. Servicing the Diamonds

Now to the specific question: What exactly do Pearls do?

Keep reading

continental drift

(#21 off the Super Sappy Prompts list: “I’m better when I’m with you.”)

It’s an experiment based on a hypothesis based on a coincidence. They’re sharing a room on a roadie, and Nursey has been stuck in a dry spell for a week and a half now. The words just haven’t been coming the way he wants them to, and he’s starting to feel dried out, like all the creative juices have been wrung out of him by school stress and lack of sleep. Maybe it’ll never come back. Maybe he’s just done. All washed up by the tender age of twenty.

He’s not even trying to write as he watches Dex from across the room, tracking his fidgets and expressions as he sits hunched over his laptop frowning at the screen. It’s been a while since he and Dex have been in the same room for an extended period of time – a fortnight, about. Dex has been on a project, and Nursey started isolating himself about when the drought hit. But it was nice to sit with him on the bus today, and it’s nice to dump his bag near the bed and just relax, hands behind his head, and drink in his presence. It feels like something he’s been missing for far too long.

Nursey’s not sure what it is that makes the words start coming back, but it’s like a cloudburst on a hot day – a few lines, scattered drops against a parched sidewalk, then all at once he’s drowning.

He writes for four hours that night. His poems are full of microchips and anger, all about the gray morality of man against the rigidity of binary code, and by one a.m., when he should really be getting his beauty rest for tomorrow’s game, he’s starting to formulate a theory.

The theory is that maybe being in Dex’s proximity jumpstarts his creativity. In a phrase, Dex inspires him.

So Nursey resolves to test it.

Keep reading

It’s You That I Hold Onto (Newt Scamander x Reader)

Originally posted by sweetly87

✩ prompt: a lovely anon message a few posts back :) includes a jelly reader and an overprotective thunderbird

✩ word count: a fair amount idk man

✩ warnings: so sweet u could possibly get a toothache :(

It’s You That I Hold Onto

It’s a typical Saturday evening in the Goldstein residence (plus a few), Queenie and Jacob waltzing to sleepy crackling records, dappled golden mid-winter light on the wallpaper, the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. 

Everything seems perfect to Y/N as she makes her way to the living room, her brilliant crimson skirt swishing rather gracefully about her waist, her hair (for once!) cooperating falling over her shoulders smoothly.

Queenie smiles at her, elegantly breaking away from Jacob to switch which record is playing, new music erupting from the golden phonograph.

“Would ya’ care to dance?” Jacob asks, giving her a rather sloppy grin and holding out his hand.

Y/N nods gleefully, enjoying the time with one of her best friends as the stout man spins her about the room, Queenie clapping to the music.

Newt’s eyes flick to the duo dancing gleefully through the living room, his gaze caught on the pretty woman in his arms. How that skirt shows off her hips-

He looks away immediately, blushing and mentally kicking himself for being “an absolute bloody creep.”

Keep reading

First Impressions

AO3 

~2.5k

Castiel works as a teller at his local bank, and Dean is a new mystery customer that brings in a wad of cash and crumpled singles once a week to deposit into his account.

Working as a bank teller was definitely a unique and interesting experience - and one that Castiel generally enjoyed.

Of course, there were always the customers that raised hell when they walked through the door, complaining about incorrect overdraft fees or loan interests, but for the most part, the people were pleasant and Castiel didn’t mind plastering a smile onto his face for five or six hours at a time.

He and the other tellers had their favorite customers that they always talked about, whether for the entertainment factor, or because they genuinely liked them.

There was the nice old woman who always updated the teller on her grandson’s theater career; the middle aged man who generally arrived drunk and so sure that he was a millionaire even though he wasn’t; the college-aged girl who came in with a different hair color every time; and a younger man who kept trying to convince the teller that he was haunted.

Yes, Castiel was sure that he’d seen it all - and then one day, Dean Winchester came through his line.

The moment Castiel looked up as the new face approached the counter, he was thrown off. Sandy and deliberately coiffed hair framed a perfectly symmetrical face that he was sure he’d seen on a famous statue in some museum or another. Soft green eyes blinked at him with an even softer smile as he leaned forward against the counter and tilted his head.

“Hey,” the man said, his voice almost as smooth as the marble his arms were resting against.

“Hello.” Castiel cleared his throat and smiled, praying to God that it looked natural. “How can I help you today, sir?”

The man pulled out his ID and slid it across the counter.

Dean Winchester, it read.

Keep reading

9 | You’ll Never Walk Alone

BTS + GOT7 X READER [GANG!AU]

WORD COUNT: 5,242

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut. this chapter contains graphic content such as violence, blood and description of unpleasant injuries

Originally posted by runchrandas

masterlist | ask | prev | coming soon


The room fell silent.

“Can I talk to you?” You asked Jimin calmly as you entered the exquisite dining room, he was sat at the head of the large table, every man in the manor house surrounding him as he briefed them with the upcoming plan of action.

“Sure.” Your brother smiled, sliding his chair back with his legs as he stood up, his warning gaze flitting between Jungkook and Taehyung, who sat either side of him eyeing you curiously.
“Minho you can take it from here.”

Today was the day Jimin planned to kill Hoseok, if anything you should’ve been proud of your brother for being so brazen and bold, but you couldn’t shake away the bad feeling captivating your body. Heading up the stairs to Jimin’s office you quickly and quietly made you way inside and sat down, Jimin in tow. He sat across from you, his once shiny silver hair now beginning to darken into his natural brown/black colour, his bangs lightly grazing the contours of his hooded, dark chocolate eyes.

“What’s this about? Did somebody hurt you?” He asked, brows knitted together curiously as his gaze settled upon your worried expression and the fact you were fidgeting with your sleeves.

“No, it’s just-“ Even though you promised Sung you wouldn’t say anything, you had to confront him, you had to make sure he was 100% certain he knew what he was doing, and after what happened to Jin you knew better than anybody that Hoseok was a dangerous, psychotic man.
“I know about the attack… And I just want to make sure that you know what you’re doing…”

Keep reading