#and hey i’m not saving the world in my daily life but like

[stone-stars]

i think just on a fundamental level stories that say “it might not be easy, but choosing to care and love and connect with people matters” are the ones that will always appeal to me

[kinnporsche]

hey guys, long time no kinn & porsche fic rec list! i miss these two so much it’s not even remotely funny. as always, this list is ordered according to length (from longest to shortest), and each fic is by a different author (to share the love)! all fics that are not yet complete have been marked with (wip). lastly, make sure to read the tags, and show the authors some love! god bless y’all for my daily allotment of serotonin.  [part 8/?]

— the empty crown by rainbowcolored7 – explicit / 117.2k words (wip)

Porsche was destined to rule his kingdom, but the throne and his family were taken from him, forcing him and his brother into hiding.

Kinn chose to rule to save his family from the untouchable threat of the Council who strictly guard the power of the Source.

When their worlds collide, everything changes. Hidden plans tumble into motion, enemies become allies and, above all, love conquers.

— you were there, written in my stars by bleakyblues – explicit / 81.5k words (wip)

Kinn is your everyday, ordinary guy. Well, as ordinary as the heir to the country’s underworld can be. But the point still stands. Kinn goes to school, helps his Pa with his work, hangs out with his friends and has a huge crush on his ‘good friend’ whom he is ‘not-dating’ (yet).

Enter Porsche Pachara Kittisawat with all the grace and stubbornness of a class five hurricane. And Kinn is lost, lost, lost... caught up in the winds never to emerge again.

— freedom is a sound/pleasure is a right ‘series by baby_droll – explicit / 31k words

Kinn stares at him, and then up at the ceiling, and then back at Porsche.

“Have you considered being professional even a day in your life,” he says, sitting back down in his desk chair and rolling away enough to get some space, “I mean really and truly, do you know what it looks like, barging into my office,” Porsche cuts him off, mouthing along to his spiel, mainly because he’s heard it before, “sitting on my desk, interrupting meetings, and acting like, Porsche, people are going to think things, things you and your shiny visa can’t afford to have them thinking. things that me and my giant internship program can’t afford for them to think—”

(Or: Kinn and Porsche meet, kiss, fall in love. Only one problem—Kinn is his PhD advisor, and there’s more than a few rules about them being together.)

— the bachelor by blue_grama – mature / 25.9k words

It’s Pete who explains, the next morning over breakfast, because of course the news has spread all over the compound. “Haven’t you ever watched a mob movie?” He asks Porsche, gesticulating with a spoon. “They have all the money they could ever need, but they can never get respectability. The old-money types look down on them. The new-money types take their bribes, but they don’t let them into the inner circle. This is public relations.”

“A kinder, gentler mob?” Porsche laughs. “Come on.”

“They’ll use it to look nonthreatening, highlight the legitimate businesses, that sort of thing,” Pete says. He lowers his voice. “Everyone knows the Theerapanyakuls are dirty, but if they’re on television, how dirty can they be, right? And… I don’t know, but Khun Korn is strange about Khun Kinn’s love life. Maybe he’s trying to keep him in line somehow.”

— i’m not a saint, but i pay like a sinner by haeseolar – explicit / 25.4k words

“I’m not sure how a lowly human like you called me, but here I am,” His voice is deep, but not gruff or harsh like he was expecting. Porsche doesn’t have many preconceptions about demons as a whole, but everything he holds is being completely turned upside down and thrown out the window.

“Who are you?” Porsche croaks out, somehow finding his voice.

The demon’s eyes sharpen as he speaks, the slitted black pupils contracting and opening again like a cat’s. It’s just as fascinating as it is unnerving.

“You’re the one that called my name,” He shrugs, gesturing around the room flippantly.

“Anakinn,” Porsche says, the name rolling off his tongue smoothly. “You’re Anakinn.”

— scale and bone by ahdriking – explicit / 25.2k words (wip)

Fairy tales aren’t real. There are no happy endings. These are the truths Kinn knows.

Ever since stepping into power, Kinn has been suspicious of the Russians—led by Mikhail Alexeyev—operating in Bangkok, suspecting them of stealing from him. He sends Kim to investigate, and the truth turns out to be much worse than his initial fears. He resolves to destroy them, even at the risk of all out war; he can do no less if he wants to avoid appearing weak.

It starts with reconnaissance at Alexeyev’s party, an event promising a ‘grand spectacle.’ Kinn is expecting something appropriately depraved, suitable for the Russian mobster and his tastes, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of what Alexeyev has been hiding. Nothing could have prepared him for the way it will change his life forever.

Because fairy tales aren’t real.

Until they are.

— moonchild (we’re born in the moonlight) by wicca – explicit / 24.1k words

“Let me walk you home, then,” Kinn offers, recalling the recent accidents and all the superstitions he’d heard about the forest ever since he was a boy. “Even if you live close by, these woods can get dangerous. You should always get home before nightfall.”

“Trust me,” Porsche smiles, teeth sharp and brown eyes glittering an almost golden hue under the late afternoon light. “I’ll be fine.”

He lets Kinn walk him home anyway.

— desire is so different when god bore you hungry ‘series by captainkit – explicit / 20.6k words

“Let’s get out of here,” whispered Kinn. His eyes were so very kind. Porsche wanted to keel over with the hunger gnawing at his bones. The kindness in his eyes made him ache a little more.

“Okay,” he whispered back.

Starvation was an old friend of Porsche’s.

— force of attraction by nuwildcat – explicit / 14.3k words

Gravity (noun): the universal force of attraction acting between all matter.

Porsche never was the best student in school. She’ll be the first to admit that hands on lessons were always the ones that best made things ‘stick’ for her.

Porsche isn’t certain she wants to know whatever lesson Kinn Anakinn Theerapanyakul is trying to teach her. The problem is, resisting Kinn is like trying to stop a force of nature: impossible.

— if i go too far by p1n3appl3_p3n – explicit / 13.9k words

Kinn and Porsche are friends that fuck, and it’s totally fine until it isn’t.

— red-handed by martynax – explicit / 12.3k words

“Hello, gentlemen,” Porsche finally manages to find his voice and is proud of himself that he comes off as cool and collected. He doesn’t really feel like it, but as long as no one is pointing a gun at him, he can roll with whatever. He’s good at bullshitting his way out of tough situations. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The corner of the stranger’s mouth ticks up in amusement, eyes taking in Porsche’s silhouette. It’s a slow once-over that makes Porsche’s skin tingle.

The stranger takes a slow sip of the whiskey, tipping the glass elegantly and smacks his lips after he swallows. “It’s not bad.”

“Want a refill?” Porsche proposes, waving his hand at the almost empty tumbler while he slowly starts approaching the couch. He feels awkward just standing there. The two guys in black suits tense up, but make no move to stop him. Not giving his unwelcome guest time to answer, he adds, “I’ll do you one better, I make a mean cocktail. How about I make you one?”

“Such a kind host,” the man muses, titling his head as he observes Porsche. “Do your best, little thief.”

— all of me (is all for you) by kurtstiel – explicit / 10k words

The water has saturated Porsche’s white shirt completely, soaking through the vest beneath. The translucent material clings obscenely to the swell of his pecs. His nipples are clearly visible through the sheer material, hard and pebbled, with the unmistakable shape of the metal barbells pierced either side of them.

Porsche’s head jerks up to check if he can still hide them from Kinn, but it’s already too late. Kinn is standing across the room, staring in Porsche’s direction, entire body coiled tight like a spring.

(Or: While Kinn is away on a business trip, Porsche gets his nipples pierced as a surprise for their anniversary. Kinn comes home earlier than Porsche expected.) 

— whatever else that touches you by technicallyverycowboy – explicit / 9.4k words

“No, it’s fine.” Porsche shifts to be a little less plastered against Kinn’s side, straightens his shoulders and smooths out his jacket with great dignity. “The answer to your question is yes, I have really never been with any other men.”

(Or: Porsche answers questions, asks some of his own, tries new things, and fills in the knowledge gaps of his own sexuality.)

— i’ve been waiting for you, to slip back in bed by dearsidewalk – explicit / 5.5k words

Porsche is sound asleep on their bed, the cityscape casting a soft, warm glow against his skin, dipping and arching with his silhouette. Kinn sags, hands falling to his side, but that itch hasn’t faded—that heaviness in his chest, stomach, and throat multiplies, malignant and spreading, and in a blink of an eye, he’s at Porsche’s side.

— the sweetest thing on this side of hell by butterflylungs – explicit / 3.3k words

Being vulnerable with Kinn is always a dangerous game: she never knows when it’s going to be thrown in her face. After the forest, she thought—well. But Kinn had given her to Vegas, cold and stone-faced from her perch on the couch, still attached to an IV line after taking a fucking bullet for her.

[miguelswifey04]

What if bubbly!reader passes away but Miguel still has to go to work but breaks down every few hours because he’s reminded of of something she did like bring him lunch or go hang out and cuddle with him while he worked and Peter b and everyone else helps comfort him yet that still reminds him of reader

you’re gonna make me break my own heart 😕 actually this gonna be the first time i write a death of a character, so let’s get into it 💔💔

miguel o’hara x bubbly! reader

warnings: reader’s death; angst

just like the wind comes and goes, you left behind a precious family, your friends, your loved ones, and miguel. you were a ray of sunshine for miguel’s darkest hours now his darkest hours had turned into his darkest days where you were no longer around to keep him going. if you are gone how is miguel supposed to live? how is he supposed to move on?

miguel had lost every little thing he could not hold onto, including you. what were you supposed to do when someone you truly loved dies? was miguel supposed to cope? was miguel to pretend to keep it going even if you weren’t by his side cheering him on and being supportive? these were the kind of questions everyone thought when they saw a melancholic miguel. a part of him died that day when you slipped away through his fingers. he couldn’t save you just like he couldn’t save his own daughter. now, surely that’ll eat him alive—his own heartbreak would be his own cause of death.

everywhere miguel goes, every smell and every thought connected to a song reminds him of you. no matter how hard he tries to be himself, no matter how hard he tries to cope—he cannot be the same person he was when you were alive, as if he can never be the same again. he tries to carry the burdens of the world on his shoulders but he finds himself cracking at the seams. he breaks down as he reminisces on the memories of you. the way you shined so brightly like a star high in the sky…or the way your smiled so big that made his heart ache that he can no longer appreciate that. the simple acts of kindness from yours truly, like you bringing him lunch or proving him that comfort and love he needed. the way you reassured him that he would never be alone.

“miguel, as long as you have me you’ll never be alone..i promise i won’t ever leave you..”

words were left empty, and promises left unfulfilled. how dare you slip away and not stay by his side, and grow old together…how dare the universe punish miguel when he himself is trying to save it..

“i love you so much, and you’re such a hardworking man. please never feel as if you have to shoulder these burdens alone. your burdens are mine to share.”

the pain had become unbearable. and it had become difficult for miguel to find solace in his daily routine. peter b and the others, observe miguel’s struggles and offer him support in their own ways.

“hey miguel? i’m sorry about them..i know how much they meant to you.” the same sentence gutted miguel and ripped his heart to shreds. they’d offer listening ears and comforting words, even sharing their own stories and memories of you. while their efforts bring miguel some comfort, they also intensify his grief, as they serve as constant reminders of the one he lost.

though time slowly passes, miguel has seemed to forgot the memories of your face..it’s not longer etched in his mind, and the way your voice sounded was now just but a distant memory. maybe, it was for the best for miguel to forgot about you and move on. maybe just maybe it may have been what you wanted. now, you’re a soul lingering in the vast universe with no memory of what your last life was, and maybe in another universe you could have had your happily ever after with miguel.

-yours truly

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @meeom @sabcandoit @emiemiemiii @obi-mom-kenobi

[navybrat817]

Librarian!Bucky Barnes! People aren’t really your forte; you’re not the best at verbal communication. It’s why you’ve always found solace in books. Your town librarian understands. You’re not sure how he came to be here, or who he was before, but the rumors don’t bother you. He leaves books for you in your check-out bin, notes written on post-it notes in the margins of the ones he knows will interest you. At last, someone who really understands.

😈

I adore this and hope you like what I came up with!

Prized Possession

Pairing: Dark Librarian!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're Bucky's rare treasure, his most prized possession. Word Count: Almost 1.5k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, Dubcon/Noncon elements (please do NOT read if that upsets you), drugging, kidnapping, cockwarming, mention of minor character death, dark elements, possessive behavior, displays of Stockholm Syndrome, librarian!Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?), A/N: Hey, lovelies! Here's my submission for @boxofbonesfic Monkey Paw Challenge. Congrats on 7k! Thank you to Nix for the GORGEOUS Bucky edit and @late-to-the-party-81 for the beautiful moodboard. Also thank you to @sgt-seabass for "prized possession". Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banners by the talented @vase-of-lilies. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

When you were little, you used to dream that you would one day fall in love with a handsome prince. All the books you read had the princesses being saved from their peril to live happily ever after. You wished for your prince to shield you from the darkness of the world and love you for who you are. Your parents eventually told you to get your nose out of the books and live in reality. It was a silly dream.

And dreams sometimes turned to nightmares. 

Bucky let out a sigh of happiness as he paused in his reading, reminding you of how good he felt to be surrounded by the heat of your wet pussy. One of his favorite ways to read to you was to have you seated on his hard cock, his lips against your ear as he spoke. It was a daily routine now and the dull ache between your legs was a sensation you had grown used to over time. He made sure of it. Everything began and ended with Bucky Barnes. 

Everything.

“Do you remember the day we met?” he asked, nuzzling the column of your throat as he rocked his hips up. 

“I do,” you whispered. 

Your life changed the moment you met him. A chance encounter with the handsome new librarian put you directly in his path. You hadn’t expected to bump into him while roaming the familiar shelves, clutching the small pile of books to your chest as he looked into your eyes. You had never seen such a brilliant shade of blue before. 

And you never would again.

“Is there something I can help you find?” 

“Y-You’re not Will,” you said, taking in his short, brown hair and strong jawline. He took up space between the shelves without meaning to with his muscular frame and you chided yourself for staring. 

The smile he gave you made you shrink back more. “No, I’m not. I’m actually his replacement. I’m Bucky.”

You said your name as he looked at you expectantly. You didn’t know Will planned to quit, but didn’t question it as Bucky helped you pick one more book. Instead of getting frustrated with your small nods and one or two word answers to his questions, he was careful to help choose the right story for you.

“Sorry,” you said as he helped you at the front desk, carefully looking over your library card.

“For what?” he asked, taking one more look before giving the card back and pushing the books toward you.

“Not saying much,” you answered, tucking them into your arms. Conveying messages through spoken word wasn't your strong suit, so you did your best to express it in other ways. A kind smile here and a friendly wave there, but it didn't always work. Books were comforting because they didn’t judge you.

“Nothing to apologize for, doll. I know not everyone is a chatterbox,” he swore, the small smile you gave in response making him grin. “Tell you what. Why don’t I leave a few books for you when those are due back so you don’t feel obligated to talk to me?” 

“Oh,” heat quickly rushed to your cheeks. “You don’t-”

“I don’t mind,” he promised. 

"Okay. Thanks,” you swore, giving him a tiny wave as you cradled the books with the other hand.

“See you soon, doll,” he smiled. 

You felt his eyes on you when you left and he hadn’t stopped watching you since.

“You had the most beautiful smile. It was endearing,” he explained, shutting the book and setting it aside.

You had heard whispers about Bucky since he took over at the library. Will had given no warning to quitting and no one even saw him leave town. Some say he killed him, but there was no proof. Others said that something wasn’t right in his mind after he served in the Army. You ignored the rumors. He mostly kept to himself and did a good job.

Maybe you should’ve listened.

“You were always nice to me.”

Whenever you saw Bucky around town, you gave him a small, awkward wave. He always waved back with a lopsided grin. You liked that he didn’t force you into interacting with him, but you found yourself drawn to him anyway. Who wouldn’t be drawn to a handsome, mysterious and kind man?

You should’ve questioned why you saw him around your street when he lived blocks away. Or why small things began to go missing from your place. You thought at the time that you were being forgetful. It was foolish to pretend.

“The world is a cruel place and I knew I had to protect you.”

Blaine was a bully who teased you relentlessly whenever he encountered you, knowing you wouldn't say anything back. It was usually a comment about your looks or how maybe you could you up if he fucked you. Bucky witnessed it once from a distance, but you rushed off before he could see if you were okay. It didn't bother you and you didn't want to trouble him. Blaine thought he found an easy target and nothing more.

He broke his neck in a freak accident two days later.

And Bucky left you a flower with a new stack of books.

“You wanted me. I know you did,” he grunted, thrusting up to make you keen. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to shove you against one the bookshelves and fuck you until you cried.”

You had a feeling it took a lot of restraint. There was always a dark look in his eyes in the moments he got close to you. A brush against your backside or a touch to your arm, but they somehow seemed innocent. 

There was nothing innocent about his intentions.

“You even kept all the notes I left you.” he sighed, tracing lazy circles along your clit as you whined.

Each time Bucky chose a book for you, he left a handwritten note. It was either a reason for why he chose the story or why he thought you’d like it. You appreciated that he chose romantic stories since most of the guys in town wanted nothing to do with you. Each one was special to you. He even asked you out on a date with a note.

They lined the wall across from you, along with photos Bucky had taken of you.

“My perfect doll. Never prying or asking questions,” he murmured, his teeth lightly nipping your soft flesh. “I knew I had to have you.”

Your first date was at his place, not wanting you pressured to go out in town. The romantic indoor picnic just for two felt personal and special. You didn’t remember much after having a drink of wine. But you knew you hadn’t been home since.

“I deserve you,” he lightly bit down again as he brought you closer to the edge, your legs trembling against his thick thighs. “My most prized possession.”

The missing items from your place were in the room, along with other things Bucky moved in. You weren’t sure how he gained access to your place. It was best not to ask. 

“Tell me you love me,” he urged, snapping his hips as you reached back to grip his hair. He groaned when you pulled on the short strands. “Now.”

“I love you, Bucky. I love you!” you cried. 

“Then come for me,” he demanded, pinching your swollen bundle of nerves.

A tear fell from your eye as you succumbed to pleasure, flooding his cock and lap with your release. He wrapped a hand around your throat to keep you still, his grip prolonging your orgasm. He knew your body, and had taken the time to explore it. And your cunt pulsed around him with the need to be filled.

“That’s my good girl,” he groaned, giving you what your body asked for after a few shallow thrusts, his seed coating your trembling walls.

“Yours,” you moaned because it was the truth.

Bucky breathed heavily against your shoulder as you head lolled to the side, but he refused to leave the haven of your body. “Let’s finish this chapter.”

“Okay,” you exhaled, seeping around his cock as he opened the book again. You stared off as he began to speak again, taking in the beauty of the prison he created for you. The four walls were spacious and fresh flowers brightened it up. And there was an endless supply of books.

“Look at this, doll,” he smiled as he held the open book in front of your face. “He wants to start a family. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Another tear fell as you sadly smiled and nodded. You didn’t know if anyone was looking for you or if they even cared. And Bucky? He wasn’t the prince who rescued you from the tower. He put you in one to preserve you. His most prized possession.

Bucky’s happily ever after.

*****

I'd really like to explore more librarian!Bucky, soft, soft!dark or dark. What do we think? Thanks for reading!

[multifandomthoughts]

Sumeru. The land of no dreams, only knowledge. Or so you thought. You had always been a stranger to everyone. A foreigner. And with that, comes a lack of a permanent home. You were always on your feet, rarely sleeping. Each day was long and arduous, but you always made the best of it, no matter what task you were doing.

Upon meeting some new people in Sumeru, you were finally able to rest.…but the dreams you begun to have were peculiar. They were always the same, every time. You were beginning to wonder if the gods were trying to tell you something.

It always started with you falling into a deep blue sea, struggling for air, drowning. Until someone in a wide brimmed hat drags you to the surface as you flail and water fills your lungs. The stranger’s face was always murky, and you were never able to get a good look at them. What you did know though, is that this strange person did not like having to save you. Every time you’d reach the surface, and try to breathe, this mysterious person would chastise you, and make snarky comments at you. You don’t know what it was, but somehow this was so attractive.

If this person existed in real life, you had to meet them. Even if they were as rude as their dream world counterpart. Each day that went by, you would visit the god of wisdom’s statue, hoping that they would send you a sign. Days turned into weeks until one day, when you were doing your daily prayer session, a person with blonde hair, strange clothes and a floating companion was there.

You begin your session, muttering your wish under your breath until you hear a high pitched “excuse me!” You glance over to see the strange people staring curiously. “Yes, can I help you? You say in the most polite voice you have. “We were just wondering what you were wishing for, and hoping we could help!”

Recounting the story to the strangers, you don’t think that they’ll give you any useful information. Until they drop a bombshell. “We know exactly who you’re talking about. However, we don’t know how to find them. Luckily, we know someone who will!” Without any warning, the stranger grips your hand as they begin to run. They’re so fast that you can barely keep up!

Finally, the two of you slow down, arriving at the adventurer’s guild of the grand bazaar. “Hey Katherine!” The stranger says with a wink. “We have a friend that is looking for someone….the balladeer.” The Balladeer….that name sent shivers down your spine. Clearly he’s the one you’re looking for if his name alone incites this sort of reaction.

Katherine, if that was actually her name, nods at you and motions to come closer. “I know exactly who you’re talking about….if you’d like to meet with them, I can make it happen. However, they’re supposed to be back tomorrow night. Meet me here and I can introduce you to them.” You nod, thank the stranger and Katherine and walk off, ready to kill some time until tomorrow.

Hours pass, and it’s finally night on the next day. You arrive to the designated spot and find a tiny little girl amongst the deserted street. You’re confused, and it’s clear to this person that you don’t understand what’s going on.

The little girl looks up at you and clears her throat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce myself a few days ago, my name is Nahida. I’m Sumeru’s archon. I took control of Katherine’s body so that I could observe others while also not frightening them.”

Your eyes widen. The stranger that you had met earlier had put you into contact with the archon, thus answering your prayers. You knew that if you saw them again that you had to thank them. “Nahida, you said that you knew this person and that I’d get to meet them. How long will that take?” With a giggle, Nahida replies “Well, he should be here any minute. I sent him off on an errand and told him to meet him back at this spot at around this time..”

Over the hill, you notice a man with a wide brimmed hat and a scowl on his face walking towards the two of you. That must be him. He looks exactly like he did in your dream, except this time you can pick out his facial features. He’s carrying two big bags in his arms. Deep purple eyes and red eyeliner are fixtures of his face. As he gets closer and closer, you can hear Nahida ask him a question.

“Did you do my shopping, and did you get me a little treat?” With a sneer, the man replies “You think I’d really go so far to get you some of those disgusting things you call sweets?” Yet inside the bag, you can see a box with a ribbon on it; clearly he did as she asked. “So who’s this? They look familiar. What’s wrong with you, you’re staring. Do you want a picture or something?”

“You’re my soulmate….” You stutter out. Upon your earlier discussion with the stranger, you learned that many in Sumeru believed that seeing someone in your dream repeatedly meant that they had some sort of connection to you. More often than not, it was a soulmate. Bursting out laughing, the man in front of you retorts. “Me? Your soulmate? Give me a break, sure, we may have shared dreams, but that’s just superstition and useless drivel. I am just a hollow puppet, and you an insignificant human. We are nothing alike.

“It seems that Nahida has had you doing errands all by yourself. All that wandering you’ve been doing for her, that feeling of being aimless, of having no meaning? That has come to an end, because now you have me. We may have just met and know next to nothing about each other, but please take a chance on me.”

Pulling down his hat, you can see what looks like annoyance, but also a blush spread across his cheeks. It seems that he may actually consider your offer. Opening up his mouth, he scoffs before saying. “Sure, I’ll take a chance on you. That is only if you shut your mouth a bit.” Timidly, he offers you his hand as you gently grasp it, feeling the coldness of his skin.

“By the way, call me whatever you want, just as long as it’s not a pet name.”

“Okay, hat guy.”

[thinkpink212]

♡ Taking Myself There - Week 2 ♡

— Life has shown itself to be about learning & moving, so let’s learn and move

Summery This week was def something else; I didn't do much but work work work, and when I wasn't working I spend my time taking care, reading, making nice meals and easing myself back into stretching daily. Next week has a mixture of busy and free time, and with my courses pick back up meaning I need to get back on my fixed routine or I will find myself falling back faster then I should! But despite that, I had a pretty good week with lots of realizations! And I am sure next week will be great too!

This week I was very grateful for...

♡ The distance I created between my parent and I, because the absence truly strengthened our bond.

♡ My creativity and my ability to have so much fun whenever I tap into it!

♡ Getting back into audiobooks after having to pause my subscription due to financial issues. I have missed escaping into these little worlds! They have me smiling all day long!

♡ My strengthening ability to walk away! It has saved me from a lot of mess!

♡ My ability to take care of myself even when things are moving faster and I am tired!

Highlights - The best parts of the week where five moments... ♡

♡ Getting back in touch with old friends, and reminding myself friendship is a two way street! Life’s hectic and sometimes time will pass with some radio silence, but I remind myself that the right people always find their way back (and I find my way back to them) Now I have plans made and I’m exited to see my girlies!

♡ My roomates mom! She taught me how to bake very simple bread, and it is all I have had for the past few days! They are delicious, fun and easy to make, cheaper then buying bred and filling!

♡ Cool interactions with guests at my work, as well as coworkers who have just made me laugh loads!

♡ My art spark is back and I am very exited to create more in the month of august!

What's next With the upcoming week, I would like to spend more time writing - I always say this and then I write 2-3 times in a week for hours and nothing else, but I know once I start ill not stop till I am satisfied, so I must simply start! But it’s easier said then done, but I’ll get it done this time around!

I also had a realization that I am truly a stereotype of my zodiac modality! As a Cancer (Cardinal sign) I am a starter, a leader, a creator but I lack the 'execution' kick that can occur at times but doesn't last long, unless it can be done now and here. With patience, journaling and more inner work, I also find myself not thriving well when I try to pace myself, over-plan and such (SN Pisces / NN Virgo), and so, I need a balance that allows that quick, fun and focused energy that just shoots me from point to point, with enough discipline and planning to continue w/o burnout or distraction. Ex. I’ll now be writing my book(s) whole. No more writing one chapter and editing, because the perfectionist side will keep at it and I don’t have the attention span or patience (or enough story) for it to be what I need it to be. So now I she’ll write, and edit/retouch when it is a whole story.

Another realization is overcoming this urge to always start over and start something new. Ex. I found myself wanting to start a whole new art page just to post art that I can just post on here, but I didn't want to ruin my feed, or be persevere or have this be associated directly with my art... and it made me disappointed (in my thoughts) that I think my art would ruin anything. It’s rude @ myself, but hey it’s how I feel somewhere deep. I love my art but I definitely have a very wide variety/non-consistant art style — I love it, but it doesn’t always fit each-other. But hey, that’s a part of where I am trying to go (being perceived, judged and so on). I’ll have to work on accepting my creations for what they are, put less pressure on myself and simply go where I am taken. And now, I would like to take this page to a new level so stay tuned.

I will eventually become the person I need to be, because where I am going I have to become her. I have much more to learn and much more to do (and not just say I’ll do tihi) but it is coming, and so far I am very proud of where I have taken myself! Change is scary but I am tired of letting fear win when I know that the ending is in my favor!

Wishing you all a beautiful Sunday & Happy Week Ahead 🩷

[luna-only-online]

So I’ve been continuously getting followers recently (slowly). At least daily. First, thank you! I’m glad you like my work! Second, I didn’t think anyone would find me and thought I wouldn’t have to do anything, but if you’re here I feel must provide content. At some point very soon.

In the meantime here is a poem I wrote. Inspiration was from the religious relationships and stories between both me and a friend. The poem tells a story of a child and their relationship between them and and their god until eventually they loose their relationship with their god. Until eventually they stop believing in them altogether.

Dear God, Are you There?

Dear God,

Thank you

For my family

For my friends

For my teachers

I love everything so much!

The world is soo prettyful!

I am so excited for tomorrow

Why? I start kindergarten

Bye Bye!

Dear God,

I’m doing really well in school

I’m basically the best

I always know the answer

but..

I’m spend a lot of time alone

My siblings are too busy

Mom and Dad are always busy

And They’ve been fighting a lot

Dad spends less time at home

God please help them love each other

Please help me too.

Amen.

Dear God,

help me find my way.

Help me get back on the path to you.

I eagerly await eternal salvation.

Amen.

Dear God,

I’ve been really tired lately and

I don’t think the others really like me

I hear them say mean things about me

No one invites me to join them

By the time I ask to join

They have too many people

I’m the last to be picked for teams

No one seems to want me

I don’t like being alone.

Please help me

Amen.

Hey God,

I got a puppy!

she’s my best friend

I practice my role for the play with

I’m gonna do great!

Thank you.

Amen.

Hey God,

I don’t see my Dad anymore

I hope he’s alright, would you help him find his way?

Sorry I broke my promise

it was just too much

I did wonderful on stage!

But before and after the performance I cried a lot

The others said some things that hurt a lot

I have to change myself

Please help me to be better

Amen.

Dear God,

My dog was killed

It hurts so much

My best friend is gone and I’m alone again

Mom is finally letting me transfer schools

It all became too much, I couldn’t take it

I didn't realize I was being bullied

I have a new chance

Please help me get through this

Are you there God?

Dear God,

I hate myself.

I’m having a hard time.

I hate everything and everyone

the world is so dull and boring

I don’t wanna be here anymore

Would you send an angel to free me from this world?

Or at least help me find my way.

I’m doing my best.

Sorry.

Dear God,

I’m struggling to keep faith

Help me continue on the right path.

I transferred schools again.

I met people who are interested in things I am!

Thank you.

God, are you there?

Its been awhile and It’s getting hard again.

My friend is with you now

I hope he doesn’t suffer from his illness anymore

We went into lockdown and a lot of people died.

It feels like everyone I love leaves me

Rumors started about me

I don’t know who to trust

Why am I here?

If there even is a God,

Is there a god?

I’d like to say “Hello” just one last time

This is the last time I’ll try

I was kind, I was helpful

I prayed, I believed

But isn’t what I was promised

I just don’t believe you’re there

I’ve been living a miserable life

But just in case I thought I’d say Goodbye

There is no God.

I know there is no god.

I used to be told to pray to the lord.

They promised me eternal happiness.

They said he would solve everything

and that he would save me from all of my pain.

He didn’t.

I did everything right

Why couldn’t I be happy?

And I’m not the only one.

I was a fool, a complete idiot.

To think someone else could solve my misfortunes.

But I was so wrong.

There was no one who could help me.

It has always been just me.

There is no God.

I should’ve known better.

I’m so stupid

I should’ve known I could have helped myself

I could’ve saved myself.

That’s so frustrating!

I didn’t know anything!

Why is that..?

I still don’t know

What an ignorant idiot

I didn’t need to depend on someone else to make my life better.

But now I know better than that.

Now I know there is no God.

Dear God, There is No God.

When I was little,

I had already suffered

Children shouldn’t have to suffer

I believed someone or something would save me

I believed there was a god that would help me

I believed that for so long.

Eventually I learned better

By the time I was 12

I didn’t rely on anyone

I’m alone.

It’s me against the rest of the world.

I may be alone but I am going to survive.

~LunaOnlyOnline

Notice Regarding The Fan-Fiction I Write: Excluding Kite, I’m not taking requests yet. If you have any ideas for a Kite fanfic, please tell me! If it’s for Kite, I’ll do anything . . . almost anything.

[magmahearts]

TIMING: before minecraft PARTIES: @mayihaveyournameplease & @magmahearts LOCATION: the streets of wicked's rest SUMMARY: beau tries to make new friends, but ends up needing a hero instead. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

Daily walks were important for physical health. Beau was sure to go on his daily walk, daily. Just as the name suggested. Part of him wished that he lived closer to BMV so his daily walk could be to and from work. As Beau walked he allowed himself to drift into vivid daydreams of living in the BMV. Being able to let people in after hours, steal their names and send them home. Life would be so beautiful with a BMV that was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Beau wondered if he should bring it back up with his manager, Mike. Mike was a twenty-seven year old child who hated his job and hated that he got promoted. Beau wouldn’t want that promotion either. Being promoted to lead took Mike off the floor. He was busy in the back dealing with management shit instead of out on the floor, mingling with the crowd, kicking ass, taking names. 

A small chorus of little meows tickled Beau’s ears, pulling him back into the present. “Kittens?” A smile tugged at his lips. Beau loved animals. Every few months Beau would go to a shelter to try and rescue an animal, and each month Beau would walk away with an employee ushering him out and explaining they’d never seen animals react like that to someone before. Today was going to be different. Beau just knew it. Beau could hear their little voices calling out to him. “Take us home, Beau!” They called. “We love you, Beau!” Beau rubbed his hands together. “I’m coming my lovelies! I love you too!” 

Beau tracked the cute choir until he came across a box. “FREE TO A GOOD HOME.” Was written in sharpie across the front. Not very nice to leave them in a box, Beau thought to himself. Especially not in this dark alley where they were less likely to be seen. Beau pulled out his phone, turning on the flashlight app so he could get a good look at the cute little faces. Beau was not disappointed. Five of the cutest little faces he’d seen in his life looked back at him. Four babies and one presumably mommy cat. “Hey babies.” Beau crouched down next to the box, ignoring the hiss starting in the mom’s throat. “Want to come home with me.” Beau lowered his hand into the box. 

Scratch. Scratch. Bite. Bite. Bite. “Ow!” Beau jumped to his feat, hopping backwards. The little beasts attacked him. “Fine! Stay in that box!” Beau nursed his hurt arm against his chest. They did not stay in the box. The little horde jumped out of their container. A bite on his ankle announced the first attack. “Ow!” Beau jumped back again. Listen, Beau knew he wasn’t like the greatest dude in the whole world. But he wasn’t a monster either! He couldn’t just kick the kittens away. “Stay back and no one gets hurt.” A swipe. “Ow!” Beau took off running. Behind him he could hear the pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the pavement. They were chasing him? Why were they chasing him?! “Help!” Beau shouted. “Someone help! They are going to kill me! They want me dead!” 

Being a superhero was amazing. It was exciting and thrilling and downright fun. And, Cass was learning, it was a very good way to get people to like you. People might find the girl who spent a little too much time rambling about rocks and comic books annoying, but people loved the superhero who swooped in to save them from danger. Even if they did get her name wrong half the time. (What the hell kind of a superhero name was Magnets? Why would a volcano-themed superhero name themself that? It was Magma! It was a good name! An obvious name! Magnets made no sense!) 

She wasn’t sure if being a superhero would be quite as feasible anywhere else, but in Wicked’s Rest? There was rarely a night where she didn’t find some kind of crime to fight. A robbery, a mugging, a supernatural animal attack of one kind or another. There was danger around every corner in Wicked’s Rest and, luckily for the people who lived there, there was also someone always ready to fight it. 

She sat up on a fire escape, kicking her feet and waiting for something to happen. It usually did in this town, and tonight was no different. After only a few moments of waiting, she heard the thunderous footsteps of someone running down the alleyway, screaming for help. Jackpot. Dropping her glamour, she stood and dropped into the streets, rushing out to see what awful, terrible thing she was going to get to save someone from today. A chimera made up of spare parts? A hellhound intent on consuming everything it came across? A hoard of vicious, wild, furious…

Kittens?

She faltered as she took in the scene. A grown man running down the street, screaming for help and insisting he was about to be killed, pursued by a handful of hissing, spitting, skinny kittens. Cass bit her lip to keep from giggling. Slowly, she approached. “Um,” she said, voice distorted by the lack of the glamour that made her look and sound more human, “are you… okay?”

“Am I okay?” Indignant. Beau was offended that this fellow fae would ask him if he was okay when he clearly wasn’t. The kittens were trying to attack him! Beau shuffled behind the fellow fae, grabbing her shoulders and placing her firmly between him and the hissing little beasts. “I just wanted to be their friend! Look at me. I’m a loveable little guy.” The kittens didn’t care for the fiery blockade. One of them crawled its way between the girl’s ankles and took a good swipe at his ankle. “Ow!” He cried, hoping back. 

Beau was on the move again, using his longer legs to keep ahead of the kittens as he started running circles around the fae. “Why are you unglamoured in public? Whatever. That doesn’t matter. You have to help me. Catch them or something. Give them to a shelter. Do something. Anything! They are trying to kill me.” The street lamp Beau ran under was a spot light to his own humiliation. God gave his toughest challenges to his silliest soldiers, and Beau was just a silly happy man. He didn’t deserve this. He really did want to be a safe place for the kittens. 

The mama cat, who hadn’t been born recently, seemed wise to Beau’s tricks. She’d sat in the middle of the circle, mouth pulled in a hiss, but unmoving. Beau should have known the mother cat would know too much.  Sitting there. Watching. Waiting. She pounced. She landed right on Beau’s back. Beau started howling at the top of his lungs. “Ouch! Mercy! Mercy! Help me!” What had he done in his life that would make cats hate him so much. “I’m begging you. Do something. Anything! I can’t! I don’t want to hurt them! This is killing me! They are going to eat me alive!” 

The pain of the cat ontop of him was too much, Beau could no longer watch his footing. He toppled to the ground. It was game over for him. The kittens joined the fray and he could feel his body being shredded by tiny kitten claws and mouths. They must have been starving because he was sure they were trying everything in their power to eat him. “Please!” He was reaching a hand out towards the fellow fae. “Tell my family… .tell them…. I’m not sorry. I’d do it again.” 

The kittens were kind of adorable, even with the hissing and the swiping. Cass tried very hard not to laugh as the man began ranting and raving, allowing him to place her as a blockade between himself and the cats. That was what superheroes were for, anyway. “Did you do something to them?” If he had, she definitely wasn’t going to help him. He probably deserved to be eaten by kittens if he’d tried to hurt them, but given the fact that he didn’t seem interested in hurting them now, she kind of doubted that this was the case. They just… really hated his vibes.

She watched as the kitten crawled through her legs to take another swipe at the other fae, watched again as he tried to keep away from them. It was pretty entertaining, and she struggled to maintain her composure. “Because I want to be,” she replied. Normally the answer would be because I’m a superhero, but she didn’t really want to be a superhero right now. Not when he’d probably ask her to ‘superhero’ him out of this very funny situation. So, with a wrinkled nose, she put the glamour back up and allowed herself to go back to being Cass instead of Magma. Just for a moment. 

“They’re not trying to kill you,” she said, but as the largest cat jumped into his back, she wasn’t so sure. The big cat did look pretty mad, and she was pretty effective in her attack. Much more so than the kittens, who were mewling and yowling from the ground now. When he fell, she figured it was probably time to step in.

Carefully, she moved forward and reached out a hand. One of the kittens sniffed it, then pressed its head against it with a quiet, more content meow. Cass smiled, picking it up by the scruff of its neck and gently tucking it into the inside pocket of her jacket. She did the same with the next kitten, and the next, until her pockets were full of squirming kittens and only the mother cat remained. It was lucky she’d worn a jacket with many large pockets, otherwise this man would have been mostly on his own here. With only the mother cat left, Cass crouched down. “Come here, kitty,” she said gently, wriggling her fingers. “If you come see me, we’ll get you some tuna. Sound good?”

“They’re not trying to kill you,” 

Those were going to be the last words he heard before he died. Beau knew it. He knew it as sure as the sun would rise in the morning after his death, and as sure as he knew that no would mourn his passing. As the mother cat bit viciously into his shoulder he saw his life flashing before his eyes. Would it have been different if he hadn’t stolen his parents names? They’d still have kicked him out, that was an event that always happened on a spriggan’s eighteenth birthday, but maybe they wold have welcomed him back for the holidays. Maybe the other fae would have gathered around to protect him when the warden came calling, instead of kicking him out on the streets. There was a whole world of what ifs and they all chose that moment to harass him.

Finally the other fae decided to do something about his horrible predicament. The kittens were being lifted off of him. One by one he could feel their sharp claws and teeth being lifted off his body. Freedom. Pain still stung his skin. He knew he was going to be covered in scratches for days. Hopefully it wouldn’t give him cat scratch fever. He wasn’t sure he could survive such a terrible thing. Was it a thing? Or just a song. He didn’t know. All he knew was the pain that surrounded him. It ate at him. It tore through him. He was aching. 

The only cat left was the mother cat. The mother cat who hurt most of all. Was tuna enough to drive the cat off him? Beau prayed to everything above. “Please,” He said to the mother cat. “I didn’t do anything except want to giving you a loving home.” Tears were filling his eyes. The pain from the encounter had been too much. “Please just leave me here. You’ve already killed my dreams, you don’t need to kill me.”

She actually felt bad for the other fae as he pleaded with the mother cat, something in her chest aching. Maybe it had been mean to laugh at him before. The situation was objectively funny — a grown man being chased and attacked by kittens felt more like an SNL skit than a real life event — but he did seem upset about it. And it was bad to laugh at other people’s pain. It was wrong. It certainly wasn’t very heroic.

To make matters worse, it did seem like he’d actually been trying to do something decent. He hadn’t hurt the cats, not even when they were hurting him. He was probably a much better person than Cass was; kinder, happier, easier to love. He probably had more friends, more people who would help him put band-aids over the scratches the kittens had left and put some kind of ointment on the bites. Just… not friends who were cats, she was guessing. But maybe the fact that Cass had laughed was one of the reasons why she didn’t have that, why she didn’t deserve it. Her thoughts went back to Debbie no matter how much she attempted to force them in any other direction. Would Debbie have laughed? 

Carefully, Cass scooped the wriggling mother cat into her arms and began stroking her between the ears. “I’m sorry I laughed at you,” she told the man. “I really don’t think the cats were trying to kill you. I think they were just scared. Do you want to help me find them something to eat? Maybe they’ll like you more if you give them some tuna.” They probably still wouldn’t like him, but maybe they wouldn’t hurt him. “I’m Cass, by the way.”

Beau knew he looked like a mess. Nothing like the handsome and suave man he wanted to present to the world. The tears had turned his face red, and the scratches had turned his body red. An ache ran over him where his back had hit the concrete, and that was nothing compared to the now constant burning of his flesh from the millions of tiny scratch marks. Now there was a girl, practically a child, and fae to make it worse apologizing for laughing at him. At him! Could his day get any worse?

The answer was yes because the laughing fae child was able to pick up the mother cat as if she wasn't a demon spawn intent on tormenting this Earth. Apparently, it was just Beau who the cat wanted to attack. It was just Beau who wasn't good enough to be friends with. A bit of his tiny fragile ego started to crack under this enormous pressure. It wasn't fair to him. He had been the one trying to help the cats but he had scared them? What about him? Hadn't they scared him when they all attacked him? Beau scowled deeply as he got back to a standing position, brushing his clothes off. It wouldn’t be right for a noble BMV worker such as himself to be seen walking around dirty. 

“Fine.” He muttered. Deep breath. Find the happy man he was. “I am cheesed to meet you.” The words came out in a hiss, then suddenly his smile was plastered to his face, containing all the rage he felt in his little body. “Cass is a beautiful name, may I have it?” He let out a boisterous forced laugh. “”My name is Beau, but everyone can call me Beautiful.” He pronounced it so the first half of the word was said like his name instead of bew. “Lets go get these little angels” Acid burned on his tongue and his stomach curled with the lie “something to eat.” Then maybe they could eat them. How did cat stew sound for dinner? Because from where Beau was standing it sounded delicious.

Absently, Cass scritched the mother cat behind the ears, shifting as the babies wriggled around in her pockets. The more she looked at the stranger, the more the guilt burned in her throat. She should have snatched up the cats sooner, before they dug in as deeply as they had. Why hadn’t she? Was it because of the fluttering in her stomach, the feeling that meant this man was fae and the memories of all the fae who’d rejected her in the past? Was some part of her subconsciously punishing a stranger for the actions of people who hadn’t wanted her, people who had probably been right not to want her? What kind of a superhero did that make her? What kind of a person? 

She smiled faintly, though it wasn’t entirely genuine. She felt too bad to be genuine. As he spoke, though, something clicked into place. “Oh. You’re the cheese guy.” She’d seen him online, trying to score dates with… just about everyone, and stealing a few names here and there. It made a little more sense now, his phrasing when he spoke online. Judging by the way he spoke, he knew exactly what he was doing when he asked for people to give him their names.

And he wouldn’t be dissuaded by an alternate introduction, either, it seemed. Cass raised a brow, and she might have been amused if her guilt hadn’t soured her name. “You can’t have my name,” she replied. “It’s mine, and I like it. But I like yours, too. Beau is a nice name. Can I have it?” She was only teasing, of course. For all the use she got out of promise binds and thank yous, Cass didn’t really make a habit of taking names. There just wasn’t much you could do with them after. “There’s a corner store nearby,” she replied, turning to walk in that direction. “Maybe they have cat food. Or we can get tuna. I bet they’d like either one. Come on.” Without looking to see if he was watching, she headed in the direction of the aforementioned corner store, shifting the mother cat in her arms to maintain an easy grip. “I guess we should take them to a shelter or something after, huh? They shouldn’t have to live on the streets.”

Anger shifted through Beau’s body as the little brat told him point blank, he couldn’t have her name. Why couldn’t some people be more thoughtful? Wasn’t he a good guy? Wasn’t he having a bad day? Couldn’t she see that a little name giving would turn this night around? But no. Not only did she get to pet the cute cats, but she was also smug about it. He could see the disdain in her eyes, the fake behind the smile, the way she stroked the mother cat like some villain in a television movie. Oh, yeah. He could see all of it. Beau knew, in that moment, that he hated that little brat more than anyone else in the town. Years of practice always prepared him for moments like this. Years of smiling at everyone who refused him his simple request. The smile on his lips, forced to spread and show his glistening pearly whites, was well practiced. Never let them see the true anger inside. 

“Haha.’ He let out a forced chuckle. “Good one.” He pointed a shaking finger at her. “Got me back with it.” He laughed again. “You can’t have my name. It’s my name. I stole it fair and square.” Had the little brat called him the cheese guy? He couldn’t remember. Whenever people refused to give him their names, he always blacked out from rage for a second. His mother would say that was a failure in him. His mother had also lost her name, so what did the bitch know? Beau followed as the brat led them towards a corner store. He just knew he was going to have to pay for these tiny bastard foods. After they had tried to eat him. Because that’s just how much the universe hated Beau Bueford. Everything was constantly against him. 

The door dinged as they walked in. A tired looking employee sat behind the counter reading a book called “Making Friends for Dummies.” What kind of dumbass idiot would need a book like that. Just make friends. Some people had no insight in life. Those people were Beau, who had no friends but was actively making fun of the clerk in his internal monologue. Beau stomped his way to the pet aisle, grabbed the first generic cat wet food he could find before stomping back to the idiot behind the counter. “Hey,” He squinted to name the name tag. “Charlie.” Beau slammed the cans on the counter. “I like your name.” 

The employee looked fluster, putting the book down and moving forward to scan the item. “Thanks.”

 Beau gave a little nod. “I accept your thanks.” He told the man. “Hey, Charlie, I had a friend named Charlie before. Nice guy. Wouldn’t mind another friend named Charlie.” The employee looked more and more confused with each passing word coming out of Beau’s mouth. “Great guy. I miss him.” Beau stared dramatically off into the distance, letting the pause between them grow more and more awkward. “For old time’s sake, just so I can relive my joy, could you just say you’re giving me your name? Old Charlie loved doing that.”  

The employee, confused, under duress, obviously no clue how to get out of the situation started to stammer. “You just want me to say I give you my name?” At Beau’s nodding the employee continued “I give you my name. Please, sir, is that all for you? Your total is seven dollars and thirteen scents.” Ah. He could feel the snip of the thread as the man lost his name and it wove its way into Beau’s being. At least this made him feel better.

Beau grabbed the cat food with one hand and started to walk away. “I’m cashing in my thanks, this is free.” Beau didn’t wait for a response; didn’t wait for the man to register he’d just lost his name and now had to cover the cost of some generic cat food. “Come on, kid.” At least he wasn’t seeing blood red when he looked at the brat anymore. He led them back outside so she could feed her new cats. “They like you. Why not keep them all instead of taking them to a shelter.” 

There was something… weird about this guy. Cass wasn’t sure what to think of him. Fae couldn’t lie, but some of them were very good at exaggerating the truth. (Cass was very good at exaggerating the truth.) He was smiling, but there didn’t seem to be any joy behind it, didn’t seem to be any amusement. Instead, he seemed… a little upset. Fear rose up in her chest, that old anxiety involved with another fae being angry with her a difficult thing to shake, even when the fae in question was a weird stranger who she’d saved from feral kittens. She tried to shake the feeling away as best she could. All they had to do was get these cats fed and get them to a shelter. Then they could go on their way.

“You stole it? So it’s not your real name? Why do you go by it, then? Are you worried about losing your real name? That’s smart.” The questions tumbled out all at once, anxiety eliminating any filter she might have otherwise had. People liked it, sometimes, when you asked them questions about themselves. People liked talking about themselves, liked being the center of attention. Cass had learned to use it to her advantage over the years, but she wasn’t sure it would work with this guy. There was something funny about him; nothing he was putting forth on the surface seemed to align with what was going on inside his head. Cass didn’t know how to juggle that.

She followed him into the corner store anyway, offering the clerk a small smile as they entered. The book was intriguing; it reminded Cass of the ones a woman online had been advertising some time ago. Did this guy need friends? Maybe Cass could give him one. She was about to strike up a conversation when Beau marched up to the counter, a box of wet cat food gripped tightly in his hands.

She could see what was going to happen before it did. Online, Beau seemed to take great pleasure in stealing names. It clearly wasn’t any different in person. Cass thought she might try to stop him, but… She couldn’t help but remember his thinly veiled anger when she hadn’t given him her name. As stupid as it was, she didn’t want Beau to be mad at her. So she let him steal the poor clerk’s name, followed him out before the man could notice. It was mean, but maybe she could make it up to the clerk later. She could help him find a new name or something. Maybe that would be nice.

Back outside, she took the cat food from Beau and opened a can, setting it down on the concrete and removing the kittens from her pockets one by one. They surrounded the can, meowing loudly as they began to dig in. Cass knelt down beside them as they feasted, gently stroking the nearest kitten.

At Beau’s question, she glanced up. “I don’t have a house,” she replied with a small shrug. “It wouldn’t be right to keep them when I don’t have anywhere for them to be safe. They’d be better at a shelter, where people who can take care of them can adopt them. Maybe you can take one. I bet it’d warm up to you after a while.”

"Of course I'm worried about losing my real name." Beau had been worried about losing his real name since the day it had happened. Now there was nothing he could do about it. It was gone forever and he was left suffering as Beau Bueford. His real name was probably very beautiful. A name of gorgeous magnitude. Whatever that name was? He'd remember it again eventually. As soon as he saw that fucking Jedidiah Sebastian again. More anger forced its way through him, rampaging around his tiny body. He forced another smile. "You never know who is going to trick you. You never know who wants to take things from you." At least she'd made it easy. He hadn't had to lie about any of that. It was all true, even if it came out misleading. 

The night was hot, humid and summer. Beau now had a fae following him around, one that looked like a lost puppy that had been kicked the moment his first fit of rage festered over him. Of course he'd noticed the fear that had flickered behind her eyes. He wasn't a fucking idiot. Maybe this girl didn't think she deserved his ire, but hadn't she let him suffer under the effects of the cats for longer than she had to? Had she not foiled his plans to steal her name? Even if those plans hadn't been veiled at all and even though he had no right to her name and could understand why she wouldn't give it up.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. He did his best to let the anger roll out of his body. Anger management classes were offered at the BMV sometimes, drivers often needed to manage their anger, and he'd heard some of the classes in the back. Not that he'd ever needed to attend. His anger was understandable and manageable. Beau opened his eyes and blinked at the girl now feeding the cats. Thank the morning dew, they decided to focus their attention on the cat food instead of swiping at his ankles again. 

"What, so you're just a homeless kid?" Beau asked. There was no sympathy in his heart. This child was a fae. If she wanted a home, she could promise bind one from a human. They weren't hard to steal from, they were all dumb. If this child was homeless, it was because she was doing everything in her power to be homeless. Then the child proceeded to insult him by suggesting that he take one of the cats home. "Take one of those monsters into my home?" The scowl that deepened the creases in his face wasn't covered fast enough by his mandatory fake smile. "After what they did to me? I don't care what happens to them as long as they never come near me again." 

Beau absently rubbed at his torn up flesh as he said that. He hoped they never got adopted. He hoped those cats had a horrible and miserable life that left them crying every night. That's what they deserved for attacking him. "You can do whatever you want with them. Leave them here for all I care." He threw the words out there as if they meant nothing, because to him, they didn't. 

Maybe he was smarter than he seemed, then. When she’d first noticed him online, trying to steal names from everyone he spoke to, she’d thought he was a little dumb. His attempts weren’t even subtle, and anyone who knew the first thing about fae would know exactly what he was trying to do, wouldn’t they? At least when she bound people, she was careful. She tricked them into thank yous and I promises, which were so much easier to swing. And so much more useful, too. What did you even do with a name once you had it? What was the point? 

But maybe he did know a thing or two. Giving a fake name by default meant that your real name could never be stolen at all. Maybe it was something she should try on for size. Stealing just one name so she could use it as a layer of protection against her own might not be the worst idea in the world, even if she didn’t think she wanted to tell this guy that he’d given her a half-decent idea. He’d be annoying about it, she could tell. And she wasn’t even easily annoyed!

She continued petting the kittens as they ate, enjoying the quiet purrs that rose up from their tiny bodies. They’d just been hungry; that was all. She understood how they felt. Cass had had days where she was so hungry that she would have done anything for some food, too. Maybe not clawed and scratched at a random stranger, but she wasn’t a cat. To a cat, maybe that was a great solution to hunger.

“I’m not homeless,” she said, a little defensive. “I just don’t have a house. Houses are stupid. So are apartments. I live in a cave. It’s better.” Caves were more reliable than houses, and you didn’t have to pay rent, and no one ever told you that your grass had to be mowed. What did a house bring you but trouble and headaches? 

She glanced up at the man as he spoke again, deciding in that moment that she didn’t like him very much at all. What kind of a person could be so cruel to kittens? “I’m not going to leave them here,” she said. “You know they were just scared, right? Scared and hungry. Nobody acts their best when they’re scared and hungry. They didn’t mean to hurt you or anything.” But she didn’t think she’d trust him to take one home with him anymore, anyway. “I’ll take them to the shelter, and they’ll get homes. They’re cute — people will definitely want to adopt them.”

“Sure kid,” Beau was standing a respectful distance away from where the cats were enjoying their new feast, and the fae child was petting them. “Because there is a big difference between being homeless and not having a house. So, what, the box that you sleep in on the street counts as a home now?” Beau rolled his eyes. The youth of this generation. “Listen, honestly, I don’t care where you live. The cats don’t care either. Look at them. They were living in a box at the side of the street before this too. You all have so much in common. No matter they like you so much.”

Jealousy panged at his chest as he said that. He longed to have an animal companion. Didn’t he deserve the love of a small furry animal companion that wanted to curl up in his lap and purr? Or a dog who would wag its tail when it looked at him with its big, beautiful eyes? Didn’t he get to be happy too? No. Because the universe was always saying fuck you Beau. It took his names; it took his happiness and now it took his dreams of having a pet of his own. This world was really against him. Everyone was against him. This fucking fae child was probably against him.

Once more he could feel the anger in him rising. He wasn’t hungry, and he wasn’t about to act his best. How come cute little kittens get excused for attacking a person because they are hungry, but the universe takes away everything he loves about life when he messes up once. “That’s not the way the world works.” He snarled, harsher than he meant. He could feel his tight smile, the mask of his charming personality slipping. Beau turned around. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Get it together. He is cheesed to be here. He is cheesed to help.

Calmer. Smile back in place, he turned back. “I feel for them.” Beau let out another breath. “I know you think they didn’t mean to attack me, but they would have stopped when I left them alone instead of chasing me, if that were true.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if he was the expert in being chased down the street by a cat. Which, to be fair, he felt like he was at this point. “And I’m sure people are going to want to adopt them. Strays with big eyes are loveable.”

Another breath in, another breath out. The smile in place. “I’m not acting my best, because I was just attacked by them. That means you can forgive me, right?” Not that Beau cared what this fucking brat thought about him. “So, just run along and take those cats to the shelter, and let's call it a night.” 

“A cave is not a box.” God, how could he even make that comparison? Caves were warm and safe in a way a box on the street could never be. Cass had hoped, after a while of being ostracized by people who didn’t understand her living arrangements, that fae would understand. But this was the second fae to not get what she had going on. Conor was at least nice about it. Maybe it was limited to nymphs; she thought Teagan would probably understand it. “But it’s not a good place for kittens. There’s stuff there that could hurt them. I’m supposed to live in a cave, but they’re not.” Oreads were built for much harsher circumstances than tiny kittens were.

This guy didn’t seem to get that. Or if he did, he was ignoring it. Who held a grudge against kittens? Cass couldn’t help but judge him just a little. “Dude, they’re cats. You know when you run, animals usually think it means you’re trying to play, right?” That was what she’d read in books, anyway. She’d never really had any pets of her own, never been in a position to keep one. But looking at the kittens now, it was hard to hold them responsible for the scratches the man was sporting. They were cats. It wasn’t like they’d meant it.

If it were anyone else, she might have tried to convince him to come along with her to the shelter. She much preferred the company of others to her own, but Beau was slowly making himself into an exception. She didn’t think she liked his company very much at all, really. “I can forgive you,” she agreed. “I know you’re probably hurting, and maybe a little embarrassed. That’s okay. It’s not like you hurt them.” If he had, they’d be having a much different conversation now.

Looking back to the cats, she nodded. “I can take them by myself,” she confirmed. She’d leave her number at the shelter, ask to be notified when they were all adopted. It would be nice to know that they all found loving homes. “Try not to get attacked by any more kittens, okay?”

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

One, Two, Three

Pairing: Arthur Dayne x Reader

Warnings: mc almost gets assaulted

Words: 3k+

Story Request from @blissyooo

Hey lovely! I was wondering if I could request an Arthur Dayne x Reader where she persuades him to train her in sword play and they bond over time (and there's a looooot of longing looks exchange when they're in public) then one day there's some sort of chaos and the Reader finally puts her training to good use and Ser Arthur is proud 😭 Thank youuuuu, I adore your asoiaf fanfics!!

“No.”

You puff out your cheeks.

“That’s still a no, (y/n).” He sighs.

“Oh Arthur, please!!” To make your acting more convincing, you even put on your best puppy dog eyes that normally do him in. Your best friend out ten years though is used to your tactics and merely shakes his head but a smile betrayed how cute he finds you. You know it, he knows it, so why wouldn’t he give into your one request of the Morning Star personally training you to fight with a sword?

This time his tolerant smile was strained as he places his warm fingers around your upper arms and holds you at an arm’s length. For years he had given in to your every wish. How could he not when he was so in love with you? This was the line he would draw though. “Your father would have my head. It’s too dangerous.”

Sputtering out a laugh, you wave off his concerned grip. “How dangerous could it be if you do it?”

“I’m serious (y/n).” He puts on a stern voice that you have only heard a handful of times.

Every time it surprised you to hear Arthur’s voice reach such a deep baritone. Reminded you that he was a man grown. Your heart, without your consent, skips a beat hearing him be so assertive. He was soon to be inducted into the king guard after all in a few months. Meaning you had so little time left with him before he was to depart to Westeros. What would you do without him? You wanted to keep some part of him with you and you had always wanted to learn how to use a sword. The best of both worlds would be available to you if you did so. Your father would be angry, yes, but he would get over it. You were the handmaiden of Ashara Dayne after all, that was a great enough honor. Your family name was nowhere near infamous as the Daynes but your father had been utterly loyal to Dorne and earned his place among the respectable men of the region.

Ashara saved you the whole ordeal of going on your knees to beg him. “Oh train her. It will do her some good.” Her lilac eyes were lit up with unspeakable mischief. Your mistress was well aware of the sweet love you and Arthur dare not speak. She was team Arthur and (y/n) all the way.

“Ashara, (y/n) could get hurt. If either of us make a mistake-“

“So don’t make a mistake.” She glares at her brother while throwing her arm around your shoulders. “And train her so she doesn’t make a mistake.”

Two against one, Arthur gave up and instructs you to be ready at the crack of dawn for exercises. Before you were to even hold a sword, your muscles were to be conditioned.

If you had known that it would take you three weeks to actually hold a sword, you may have changed your mind about learning. And those three weeks were no cake walk. By now your fingers were thoroughly calluses and you were covered in bruises daily. The first bruise Arthur had dealt you made him dubious on continuing.He didn’t like the idea that they were caused by him.

Sternly you demanded that he treat you like his fellow knights. You didn’t want him to go easy on you. You would not half ass it. Arthur would teach you the art of swordplay properly.

Muscle had firmed up your arms and legs and you were pretty sure he had checked out your ass several times.

In the best shape of your life, you were thrilled on the day when Arthur finally placed a practice sword in your hands. Another two weeks passed before finally a real, sharp bladed sword was bestowed upon your sweaty palms.

“Really? I’m finally ready?” You look up at him with cautiously optimistic eyes. Strong fingers grip the hilt, Arthur let go so you are now the soul support holding it up. There was heft to it and you knew had you not spent all those excruciating weeks training your body, it would have been heavier.

Arthur grins at you with a nod. “I mean, if you’re not ready you can give it ba-“

“No No! I know I’m ready!” Taking a step back, you position the sword behind you. Your smile is radiant to him. Both of you greatly enjoyed the time you shared together during the course of your hard work. Watching you excel made his chest swell and cheeks warm.

“Then take your position.”

Promptly you obey and move to the opposite end of the training ring. A swift pivot of your feet has you facing Arthur head on. You pull your sword in front of you in a fluid motion and take your proper stance.

“Now lets take the movements slowly the first time. Progressively it will get faster until you grow accustomed to how it feels. Then we’ll start actually sparring.” He’s incredibly serious when he states the following “These are real blades, (y/n). Weapons of death which should be respected. If I hit you with it, there will be real damage.”

You level him eyes brimming with understanding and determination to continue. He was an excellent instructor; even your father regrettably admitted that. Having two older sisters, they had dutifully married lords. Once upon a time there had been a hope that perhaps Arthur would ask him for your hand in marriage. Since the sweet age of two, both you and Arthur were never seen without the other. It would be a great honor for your family if you were to marry into the illustrious House of Dayne. Years passed though and with neither you nor Arthur prepared to cave into your feelings, your father lost hope and just let you be for the time being. You were still young after all. Things could change.

You saw the hopeful glances everyone shot at the two of you.

Mirroring his movement, you follow along with skillful ease while counting along in your head One, Two, Three, One, Two, Three. . . The rhythm matches your steady heartbeat.

You’re surprised when your blades finally kiss, the clang of it making your bones shiver in delight. With first contact over and done with, you grow more confident in your swings and thrusts. Advancing on him, Arthur grins equally excited. Light dances across his beautiful eyes, purple like the Targaryens. When you were six, you imagined life as an adult, married to Arthur and the children the two of you would create together. They would all have his eyes. You had been determined with that fact. You wanted them all to be as beautiful as their father.

So why after so many years had neither of you admitted the attraction? It was quite simple, each of you held strong to that Dornish stubbornness. Plus you had found out he wanted to join the Westerosi Kingsguard one day. That meant he would make an irrevocable vow to take no wife and father no children. Even if you knew that Arthur liked you back, he must not have loved you that much if he were willing to make such a promise. You meant little to him in that matter.

What would be the point? Never subjecting yourself to begging him to stay, you decided that you would never tell him outright. You wouldn’t let him see how vulnerable you were.

Instead you chose to use the sword to let your frustration known. A good outlet, every regret you wanted to voice was suffocated with the sound of your swords colliding with the other. Such a sharp noise that cut through your inner thoughts efficiently.

A sweaty mess after, your cheeks are near burning as you take in slow, steady streams of air. While you always braided your hair and coiled it, many strands had come loose during your session.

Chuckling, Arthur hands over a clean towel for you to dab at your face. Feeling nice against your skin, you watch Arthur go to get some water for the two of you. Even when he was a sweating mess, he was utterly handsome. His backside wasn’t too bad of a view either. You found it delicious how his muscles rolled and moved underneath his glistening skin. “You did well for your first real sword. Not a scratch or cut on either of us.”

“Hurrah!” You laugh and pump your fist into the air in victory. Just to be silly, you assure Arthur that you have all ten of your digits by holding up your hands and wiggling each one.

He checks his own hands to make sure he too had all fingers in attendance.

You join in on a united giggle. Like this you felt younger, the saccharine days of childhood were behind you though.

Sooner or later, Arthur was going to leave you for Westeros.

Very soon that day did come where you were forced to bid farewell to Arthur as he packed his things for the long journey to King’s Landing. Tourneys to induct new Kingsguard members didn’t happen too often and he had to jump on the opportunity. During one of his visits to Westeros, he had befriended Rhaegar Targaryen and Jon Connington in the Red Keep where they soon formed a close brotherhood of sorts. He had written to you of this when it had occurred, but you didn’t think he had still been in contact with Rhaegar since then. Well, you had hoped he hadn’t. Of course Prince Rhaegar would want to keep their friendship going. Arthur was hard, near impossible, not to like. A natural charisma with people, friends came easy to him.

As the attention of other girls.

But you knew that you were closer to his heart than any woman. You were assured that he didn’t having wandering eyes for no one else.

Rhaegar had informed him that through connections, he saved a spot specifically for Arthur Dayne of Starfall. He wanted his friend to take his rightful position on his father’s Kingsguard. The Crown Prince of Westeros!

A heavy ball of bitterness took root inside of you. In the end, no matter how you saw it, he was choosing the Kingsguard over a life with you.

That was why you shoot a heated glare when you spy the ship that was to deliver Arthur to Westeros. Already small black spots were loading all of his essentials onto the ship. Being high up in Ashara’s balcony, your nails pierce into the stone railing as it was the only thing that kept you from screaming at the inanimate object.

At the sight of a familiar deep blue painted trunk, you squint your eyes in an attempt to gain a better look. The metal crest of your family caught a glint off the sun’s rays.

“Ah! There you are!” Came your lady’s boisterous voice. Her hands are on you shoulders and swiftly steering you away.

“My lady, I think there is a mistake. My chest-“ You struggle to turn your head to face the open sea once more.

“There is no mistake. You’re going to Westeros with us. Well, with me specifically.” She’s even more lovely when her smile is so bright. The kohl under her lower lashes make her familial purple eyes glow. “Permission was given by your father of course-“

Digging your heel into the floor, Ashara staggers. “Wait! Why wasn’t I even asked? What if I don’t want to go?”

She steps away from you and appraises your disgruntled features. While her smile disappears , her face grows apologetic. “I thought you would be happy. You’d be able to spend a little bit more time with Arthur.”

Ashara meant well, of course she did, but you had already grieved Arthur’s departure and prepared yourself for it. You didn’t want to see anymore of Arthur lest your heart betray you. Taking a deep breath, you shake your head. “I don’t want to see him win the glory that will get him knighted as part of the Kingsguard. I want to be happy for him, but I can’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t be happy right now.”

Her hand goes to cup your cheek. “(Y/n), I’m sorry. I just was hoping. . . I don’t know what I was hoping. That both of you would stop being so stubborn maybe. In the end I guess I did more so for myself. Selfish as it may sound, if the two of you did marry, then I could keep you both close by me forever. I don’t want to lose either of you.”

This was hard for her too. Ashara and Arthur, along with their sister and nephew, were the few surviving members of the House of Dayne. They had always been a close knit family, one that you envied very much since your own family was spread all over Westeros and seemed to prefer it that way. Hardly any letters were passed between your family. They had their own lives and were simply happy you were thriving under such an influential household.

You place your hand atop of her’s and lean into her touch. “I’ll go for you to ease your pain but for no other reason. Arthur has made his choice.”

*

You kept to your cabin during the voyage, ignoring the longing glances Arthur would shoot you when you dared to step outside. They were tolerated with an icy shoulder that you would turn his way. Ashara was aware that there was nothing she could do to mend things between her brother and lady in waiting. This was something that ultimately the two would have to figure out themselves. She wanted to have a hand in smacking them upside the head for acting like children.

Thank the gods that the harbor of Blackwater Bay came into view. You were all too grateful to be back on land even if it was King's Landing. In your opinion, King's Landing couldn't even hold a flame to the great Dornish cities of Sunspear and Starfall. The slums were overrun and leaked to even the prettier parts of the Westerosi capital.

Your horses and litter passed through the thick of it as pedestrians strained their necks to get a glimpse of your beautiful Dornish lady who sat straight and pretty, her hand pulling back the curtain of the litter window to watch everyone gawk. Her lips are pursed in a straight line at what she sees. "I can't believe he's leaving Dorne for this."

"Technically its to serve the Targaryen king among the finest of knights." You mumble and look away from the open window. While the carriage trudged on through the cobbled streets, you hear the ringing of the bells that belonged to the Great Sept of Baelor. As if you and Ashara were being welcomed by it when the gates to the Red Keep opened up for you. The ancient home of Aegon the Conqueror. For centuries it housed the royal Targaryen family.

In the heart of the throne room, the Iron Throne’s pointed swords told of enemies that had been vanquished long ago. There seated was King Aerys. His limp, silver hair clung to his skull much more than his crown did. It slid to one side of his head, barely able to perch atop his brow. At the bottom stood his lovely sister-wife Rhaella and on either side of her were both of her sons. The youngest being Prince Viserys who was just a young boy.

The members of Aerys’ Small Council had their own respective seats off to the sides. Other lords stood behind them, probably their own representatives. All eyes were focused on House Dayne’s entourage. It wasn’t often that the Dornish leave their land. They fetishized your features: dark skin and exotic beauty. Resenting the selfconciousness that they made you feel, you keep close to Ashara in an attempt to hide yourself. Not that they would be paying attention to you. You had no distinguishable house sigil. The lords of Starfall were well known, especially the great sword Dawn that was forged from a fallen star.

Speeches lingered on for longer than was necessary as other aspiring knights puffed out their chest in such a typical alpha male way that made you and Ashara roll eyes.

When all the introductions were over, a steward has you following him to the private wing of rooms specifically for Ashara and Arthur and anyone who was in their company.

A relief, you nearly moan once your back hits the mattress of your bed. Every muscle expressed their own feelings as your body’s firmness softens. This type of exhaustion reminded you of your training days with Arthur.

Loneliness crept up on you with cold fingers that tickle your stomach.

You weren’t ready to face a life without him.

***

Rhaegar, wanting to meet the young lady who took residence in Arthur’s heart, was escorted to (y/n)’s room by Arthur himself. The young lordling was hesitant on knocking on her door. His curled fist hovered frozen in front of the wood door.

She had spoken to him, not since their departure from Starfall nor the ship journey. While she didn’t necessarily keep to herself, (y/n) loyally stood by Ashara’s side whenever his sister was out on the deck. Her eyes though, the refused to even look his way. That probably hurt Arthur more than (y/n) not speaking to him. Thankfully he had spent more than a decade in her company and knew her as much as he knew the back of his hand. (Y/n) could hold a grudge but was slow to anger. Normally she was warm and could make a room full of intense men laugh due to her bawdy jokes.

Most important to remember was that (y/n) needed her space when she was hurt or angry.

Arthur would reluctantly offer her that space. But this was a request from his prince. “Please don’t take offense if she’s not outwardly nice. It’s nothing personal. I’m to blame.”

With a gentle smile, Rhaegar pats Arthur on the back. “I won’t take it personally. I’m sure she’s lovely.”

“As much as a spitting viper.” Chuckle lowly, Arthur finally raps his knuckles against the door.

They wait.

And wait.

He knocks again, this time with worry. (Y/n) had a tendency of finding trouble. If she was by herself and not with Ashara. . .

Trying her door next, another hand maid opens it and brings back her mistress. Ashara is already dressing for dinner and had just afixed an earring on. “(Y/n)? Yes she mentioned something about going to see King Baelor’s Maidenvault. I told her the story while we were on the ship and she has been curious about it since.”

“By herself?” Arthur tried not to let the worry leak into his voice. This was a foreign country which (y/n) hadn’t visited before. While it wasn’t night yet, the sun had just started it’s crawl away from the open sky. It would be easy for (y/n) to get turned around and lost.

Ashara didn’t appear too worried though. She leaned against the doorframe a bit with a glint in her eyes. “You better go find her then, huh?” Then to Prince Rhaegar “Lovely to meet you, Your Grace.”

Rhaegar didn’t see the urgency that Arthur felt and matched Ashara’s smile. “The honor is truly mine, Lady Ashara.”

Back to her brother, Ashara placed her hands on her hips. “Well? Get to it then.”

Arthur groaned and turned to Rhaegar. “Can you show me to the Maidenvault?”

Immediately upon arrival, Arthur heard (y/n)’s distressed voice hiss out “Piss off.”

Arthur and Rhaegar stop in their tracks and watch quietly as (y/n) tried to pass through one of the arched pillars that opened out to the entrance of the Maidenvault. Candles at the base of each pillar had just been lit an hour earlier.

There’s a man, his facial features hidden by the oncoming dark, that attempted to grab her arm accompanied by a snarl.

About to surge forward, Arthur froze when (y/n) easily whipped out of his grip and took a defensive step back.

The unknown assailant growled “You Dornish whore, who do you think you are denying me?”

“I hate repeating myself. But for someone with as small of a brain as your’s, I’ll say it again: Piss off. I’m not interested in your shriveled Westerosi cock.”

That set off the male to advance on her. Much to his surprise, (y/n) smacks him with the back of her hand sending him reeling. In his vulnerable position, he isn’t aware of (y/n)’s nimble fingers encircling the hilt of his sword as she deftly unsheathed it from it’s scabbard that hung at his waist.

In a flash, the blade swipes upward so that it only slashes his chest superficially. His eyes are gaping at you, hand clutching at the torn fabric of his tunic.

Oh.

Oh the pride Arthur felt overwhelmed him and made his cheeks burst with flames.

“Get out of my sight. I’ll be keeping this sword. Only men with honor should wield a weapon like this.”

What else could he do but hightail it out of there like the worm he truly was. (Y/n) watched her would be assailant flee.

“That is the woman you are leaving for the Kingsguard? Oh Arthur you fool.” Rhaegar breathed out.

Frowning, Arthur turned to the Silver Prince. “What?”

The prince’s face is stone cold serious though, even a little stern. He had never seen Rhaegar in a state like that. “Listen to me Arthur. Giving (y/n) up for the Kingsguard will be the biggest mistake of your life. There is no glory or honor in protecting my father. No honor in taking the Kingsguard vow. At least. . . Not anymore.”

“Rhae-“

He shook his head fervently. “You are too good of a man, Arthur. And (y/n). . . There aren’t many women out there like (y/n). If you don’t wisen up then someone else will find and claim her. Please, reconsider. Win the tourneys if you must, but do not accept the gold cloak.”

Arthur’s head spun at what Rhaegar revealed to him alone.

***

Having seen all of the Maidenvault as you wished to and making sure that creep wasn’t lurking outside, you walk down the front, stone steps to find Arthur sitting on the other side of the red column.

“You always find me.” You murmur.

“Of course I do.” He rolls his head against the scarlet stone to look at you. The purple in his eyes was luminescent in the early night.

His eyes always made you weak at the knees. How irresistible the call was that his body cast out to you. From your earliest memories, you recall it had always been like that. Both of you naturally gravitated to one another.

You duck your head and return to your stride. “I should be getting ready for dinner.”

“Please wait.”

And you did. His voice was heartbreakingly gentle and it matched the contours of his face.

Arthur gets up and in a few steps he’s in front of you. His hand easily engulfed one of your’s, startling you when he kisses your knuckles. A shiver shocks your nerves at the contact, leaving you breathing heavily.

“I was told recently that I’m a fool.”

Quite unladylike, you sputter out a giggle. “Oh yeah? Was it Ashara?”

“No, it was Prince Rhaegar.”

Whatever humor that had manifested in you dried up. “Prince Rhaegar?”

He purses his full lips, running his thumb over where he had just kissed your hand. “We saw what happened earlier. Prince Rhaegar said I would be a fool to give you up in favor of the Kingsguard.”

You would definitely have to get down on your knees and thank Rhaegar profusely. “You would be.”

A curl of a smile, Arthur chuckles. “I’ve decided I don’t want to be a fool.”

“A great decision.” You grin.

[dailyaudiobible]

9/19/2023 DAB Transcript pt2

So, in other words, there is a path that we can choose that will waste our life, deplete our energy because what we will spend our lives doing is attempting to outrun whatever we believe is chasing us, because we are unstable and are relying on things that will never be stable. And we can have all of that, all of that can be ours if that's what we want. God will wait on the other side of that for us to return to Him. But we are also given a path of making that choice now, returning to Him now. And so, instead of running away from what is chasing us, we stop and run to God and collapse there and find rest. And Isaiah gives us a picture of what that could look like. And I quote, “whenever you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear this command behind you. This is the way, walk in it, then you will defile your silver-plated idols and your gold-plated images. You will throw them away like menstrual cloths and call them filth.” So, what is Isaiah telling us, direction is available. Clarity is here. It's all right here, if we’ll calm down, return to God and rediscover where our source of strength comes from, and if we will live from that place under the shadow of His wings, as it were, we will see what is false and what we've been trusting in. We will see the imposters, we will see what we've been trying to outrun, we will look at these things and its delicate right because the Bible’s so graphic here and what it's trying to tell us that we will look like, how our vision will change. It will change so much when we find this place of quiet confidence of rest, under the shadow of the Almighty. That we will look at the former ways that we were trying to navigate in our own strength and consider them to be used menstrual sanitary objects. Right, I mean, that's graphic, that's delicate and it's…it's probably that way for a reason right, because nobody collects that kind of stuff and saves it. Right, that’s…that's thrown away. That's disposed of. And maybe that's how we begin to look at how we have navigated our lives in an attempt to be our own master. We see this story repeated over and over in the lives of the children of Israel in ancient times, we see the back and forth over and over and over. And we can think they’re dumb. But we can look at our lives and go this is our story over and over and over, then maybe it's not really going anywhere. Maybe God is God, maybe God is all-powerful, maybe He actually does know our name. Maybe He actually does know how many hairs are on our heads. And that's an ever-changing thing for me and I'm sure He has to use subtraction on a daily basis for that. But maybe He really does know, maybe He cares enough to know that. Maybe He loves you enough to know how many hairs are on your head. Who else loves you like that? What are we doing here friends, let's return to God and find rest for our souls and rediscover that we have a strength. It's just not our own. It's the strength of the Almighty, all things are possible.

Prayer:

And Father, we let go of all of it. This garbage that we are carrying around trying to sort out and process, like we can't, You can. And so, we’re running to You, we’re running to You. And we are not running to You so You will pat us on the butt and tell us we will make it and it will be okay, so that we can go back and desert You again, back into our own strength. We are running to You saying enough is enough, I’m not living this way anymore. You are my God, I will serve You, lead me where I should go. I’m trusting in that, it’s the only safe thing to do in this world. You are the only truly trustworthy person being on this planet and I trust in You. Come, Holy Spirit, make this true in the name of Jesus, we ask. Amen.

Prayer and Encouragements:

Hey fam, this is Nancy. I’m calling from Alberta and I’m asking for prayer from all you mighty prayer warriors for a good friend, Jason, who was in a motocross accident on Sunday evening. And his brain is swelling, incredibly bad. And they had to remove part of his skull to relieve some of that pressure and it’s just not going down. He has broken both legs and the main concern, the biggest concern right now, is this brain swelling. It’s just an 18-year-old kid, who goes to our church and been a friend of our families for a while now. Appreciate the prayers and please keep him and his family in your prayers. The sister was supposed to be getting married in two weeks and not sure what’s happening with that right now. Because they’re over in the hospital in Calgary, here in Alberta. So, keep Jason Slingerlynn in your prayers as well as his parents, Dave and Colinda and the whole family. Thank you so much. Love you guys.

Hey, Daily Audio Bible family. I have emergency request. My husband is a police officer here in Texas and we just found out one of our friend’s granddaughters or grandsons who is one years old, had an accident where he somehow got outside into the pool and they found him, essentially face down in the pool. He has been resuscitated, he has a heart rate, he’s breathing. But I don’t know how long he was down for, and we don’t know much else than that. So, can you guys please pray and just lift this little boy up and just ask the Lord to just heal him and give him life to the fullest, with no deficits, according to His mercy and His love. Thank you so much, family. It’s The Sun Is from Texas. Love you, bye.

Hey family, it’s Beloved in Bakersfield. I was just offering a prayer request for my friend Jacqueline, we’ve been friends since kindergarten, so I see her like a sister. Her father-in-law has had some complications with his heart surgery, and he had to get transferred to USC emergently because he had coded after a few days in the hospital, post the heart surgery. So, anyway, prayers for the family, for his healing. Prayers just financially for the, for his wife who’s needing to stay in Los Angelas. There’s also just for my friend Jacqueline, her husband is obviously wanting to stay and support his mom and dad. Which is requiring him to lose time from work. And it’s, she said it’s been putting a strain as far as like his job situation of possibly being let go. If he loses too much time from working. So, prayers just for, for God just to provide the financial means necessary, the healing necessary and just the peace in this whole situation. Their last name is Treheo, so if you could just remember the Treheo family and just be covering them in just God’s wisdom and peace during this time for them. I would appreciate it.

Hey DAB family, this is Anna in the Trenches. It’s been a long time, but I’ve been out here listening and praying for ya’ll. I’m calling because I’ve entered into a kind of stressful season. It’s exciting but it’s stressful. We are buying our own house. When we first bought a house 15 years ago, we bought a house with a group of people, and we were living in community. Over the years, our ministry has shifted from neighborhood and home and providing places for, you know, people in recovery to live and things. To more of the prison ministry of our church. So, I’m very excited about my family having a house that’s just my family in the house. And so, it’s a huge answer to prayer but I’m really stressed out about moving a family of five, including a disabled son and you know, packing and stuff. So, if you guys could just pray for my mental health during this time. And that I would trust God for all of the loans to come through and just for people to come help us move, for it to all go smoothly. That would be awesome. I’m also praying for my mom. She has Alzheimer’s and is deteriorating kind of horribly, it’s just hard to watch. So, love you all. Bye.

[writerbri-archive]

Hey! You always write amazing whump and angst! ☺️☺️ From the violence/death themed prompts, could you do “Don’t you dare die on me!”?

This is from an actors au that I don’t know if I’ll ever fully write but it’s always in the back of my mind so I might. It’s got its share of mature/dark themes, so hopefully I am delivering on the angst you requested.

TW for drugs and overdosing.

~~~

The first time he comes across Evan Buckley, Eddie is in the latest of a series of guest-starring roles. He has four years on the kid and about one tenth of the experience. Eddie’s start came in the form of an agent stopping him on the street during a visit to Shannon’s family about a year ago while Evan began charming the world in commercials before he could even walk.

Eddie’s role is that of a good samaritan who resuscitates Evan’s overdosing character on the street.

He’s not sure what to expect but it’s not the sight of Evan sitting uncomfortably in the chair that’s emblazoned with his name. It’s one of the perks of being a recurring character, while Eddie pretty much leans on whatever piece of the set won’t give beneath his weight while they block the scene. The experience of being on set has long since lost its novelty, so Eddie’s eyes are naturally drawn to the most unfamiliar thing in his vicinity.

Evan Buckley.

The kid looks like he’s about to come out of his skin at any second, his leg bouncing incessantly and his fingers tapping against his knee in a contradictory rhythm. There’s a discarded script on the floor in front of him, looking like it’s gone through the wringer with wrinkled and torn pages that must have been handled again and again.

He looks at everyone who passes with wide eyes, and it almost seems like he’s bracing himself for someone to announce that he’s in the way. His gaze darts to the outskirts of the set every so often and Eddie wonders if he’s imagining the mix of hurt and disappointment that dulls the shine in his eyes when he looks away.

(One day, Buck will tell him that his parents stopped visiting set when he was eight, but that it took over a decade for him to stop looking.) 

When the director calls for them to get ready, Eddie straightens up and barely has time to notice Evan leaps to his feet in the corner of his eye before someone is tugging at his clothes and making sure there’s not a hair out of place. Before he knows it, Eddie is positioned on his mark and meeting those bright blue eyes that he’s used to seeing through a screen.

“Hi,” Eddie says, trying for casual as the crew angles lights and positions extras all around them.

Evan blinks at him for a second before nodding, a half smile tugging at his lips.

“Hey,” he says, shifting in place and shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie.

Eddie feels a moment of sympathy for him. If it weren’t for the Hollywood of it all, he’d be convinced that this is just another sixteen-year-old boy. It wasn’t too long ago that he was that same age, and he can’t imaging living under the kind of pressure that weighs on this kid’s shoulders on a daily basis.

“I’m Eddie,” he says.

“I know,” Evan responds, his smile growing into something warmer. “You’re gonna save my life, huh?”

Eddie gives a shrug, happy that the kid looks less like he’s coming apart at the seams.

“I’m gonna do my best.”

~~~

Those words come rushing back years later, as he kneels on cold bathroom tile and prays for the first time since his youth.

Later, Eddie will realize the horrible irony of the situation and how it reflects the first time they met.

But right now, it takes everything he has to keep going beyond the ache in his muscles. He manages to maintain an even rhythm with the compressions, even beyond the tears that sting his eyes and wet his cheeks. He doesn’t know how long he’s been doing it, only that he can’t stop.

“Come on,” Eddie chokes out, pleading and desperate. “Come on, Buck!”

He shouts his name, taking a moment to dig his knuckles into Buck’s sternum. Watching closely for any sign of consciousness and letting out a sob when he sees nothing.

“You can’t fucking do this.”

He presses one hand over the other and keeps going. Even when he feels the rib that breaks beneath his palms, he doesn’t dare stop, ignoring the tinny voice of the 911 operator still trying to get his attention through the phone discarded at his side.

“Don’t you do this,” Eddie says, fixing his eyes on Buck’s too-pale face. “Don’t you dare die on me!”

The paramedics should be there soon, but it may not be soon enough. Eddie knows damn well that he is all that stands between Buck and death, and he’s not about to stop fighting.

“Come on!” he yells, as if it’s going to startle Buck enough to make him start breathing on his own again.

Drawing away, Eddie curls his hand into a fist and beats it again Buck’s chest again and again. He knows that he’s leaving countless bruises, but he doesn’t give a damn. He’ll break every rib in Buck’s chest before he gives up.

“Please,” Eddie all but whimpers, pressing a palm flat over his heart and desperately hoping that it’ll start beating on its own. “Please don’t leave me.”

With all of the strength that he has left, Eddie lands one more blow directly over his heart.

A moment passes.

A rattling breath fills the air.

And Eddie breaks.

[vespertin-y]

CH4 DAILY LIFE 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO. that’s what this was saved as in my drafts and i’m not changing it now.

-the monokub domestic abuse subplot has started please pray for me

-”maki. good morning.” “...good morning...” [...this is a bit awkward. kaito’s obliviousness made last night...weird. but the way she talked about it like she didn’t care, that got to me...] “...hey, about last night.” “wh-what?” “you probably assumed i didn’t care...but, that wasn’t it at all.” “it wasn’t?” “you’re not fit to be a detective when you assume things without listening first.” “maki...” GODDAMNIT WE WERE SO CLOSE...all women know is eat hot chip repeatedly dig at their only two friends’ greatest insecurities without remorse and lie 😔

-”ah, why did you run? are you in a hurry?” “...i decided to live life facing forward. that’s why i can’t stop. actually, i can’t even walk! i need to be constantly running forward!” your depression can’t catch you if you run fast enough!!

-shuichi convincing himiko to come exercise with him so she feels better 😭 kaito has started a good coping mechanism mlm and i fully support this.

-”but we gotta do it! if not now, then when!?” “l-like i said before, it’s reckless! there are still two exisals, right!?” “gonta know that, but...watching friends disappear...seeing everyone get weaker...gonta no can take this anymore! that’s why gonta go fight monokuma!” “fight monokuma!?” “shuichi, good timing! talk some sense into him! gonta’s saying a bunch of reckless stuff and he won’t listen to us!” “gonta know it reckless...but it only way to save everyone. waiting around, doing nothing just make more victims...that why gonta gotta risk his life! real gentleman would risk life! gonta gladly give up life to save everyone!” aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. one thing ch4 is really good at is DREAD. you’ve been watching gonta slowly crumble as he “fails” to protect his friends over and over and you see it boiling over here.  you see miu and kokichi both obviously doing bad as well. you know the buff self-sacrificing one goes in ch4. you might not know exactly *what’s* coming, but you know it *is*. i felt so sick my whole first time through this chapter it was almost a relief when the shoe finally dropped. it’s not much easier now.

-”kokichi...what the hell’s gotten into you?” “...” “you were messed up to begin with, but this is a whole ‘nother level of weird...“ poor kaito doesn’t know this is the Mental Breakdown Chapter!! everyone gets a mental breakdown!!! him, gonta, kokichi, miu, shuichi, ME

-kokichi is dead silent for the entire rest of the morning.........

-two important things to note about what happened w/ kokichi behind the scenes: 1) he saw the outside world *in person*. i see a lot of people say there’s no way he believed it was real when he’s already been mistrustful of the flashback lights, but this is different. he saw the sky, the earth, the broken buildings stretching all the way to the horizon - he felt the air leave his lungs. to deny it as just a set seems borderline delusional imo. and 2) monokuma (probably) saved his life. think about it - who else could it have been? we see that even with several people in the room they collapse too fast to close the door without outside help. monokuma can’t directly interfere with a murder, but he can definitely save his favorite student from a boring, offscreen death, right?

-anyway now that we’re done being cripplingly sad: fun dojo event!!! :D

-”i need a lot of energy to use magic. and the best way to get that energy is by having someone with overflowing vitality nearby.” i’m gonna CRY gonta asks how he can help and himiko is just like ‘u have such incredible vibes u can just stand there and it’ll help actually 👍’ so FUCKING TRUE

-cutest cg in the game i will not be taking questions

-[the reason gonta said he wanted to fight monokuma was to save his friends...i think...miu is the same.] is she, shuichi. is she.

-on that ominous note: FTE time! first another of maki’s....except not really, because the LP gave her a gift she hated and she left immediately 💀

-they picked kaito next (maybe because he’s easy to get gifts for, lmao). he tells more cartoonishly fake stories (kaito x pirate king 500k enemies to lovers when) and tells shuichi the reason he wants to be an astronaut is just “because it’s cool”. never change, buddy.

-the announcement was slightly more tolerable this time, if only because monotaro literally fucking forgor about the incest plotline.

-”what are you doing, tsumugi?” “oh, shuichi...nothing, really. that announcement played when i was going back to my room. it would’ve been fine if they just told us the time, but why’d it have to be so melodramatic?” there are two interpretations we could take here: one is that even the fuckign monokubs’ plotline is spiraling out of tsumugi’s control, and the other is that there is a COMPLETELY DIFFERENT incest fetishist from tsumugi at team DR cramming their kinks into the plot. i cannot decide which one is funnier to me.

-”if i couldn’t keep up as an assassin, the orphanage would no longer receive funding...and then, i wouldn’t have a purpose in life anymore.” damn, the parentification hit her HARD. i wish they explored more into this - maybe even have her as a *willing* bounty hunter instead of being practically held hostage by the cult, doing something she hates and knows is wrong because she feels like her only purpose in life is to provide for the kids? (that would’ve given her agency and responsibility over her actions, though, and we know how the writers hate that...). i thought going back to canon would reawaken my hatred for maki, and in some ways it has, but i feel like i’m growing fonder and fonder of the character she *could’ve* been. potential queen.

-that’s the end of day fifteen...but we get a bonus scene to tide us over :)c

-THE SPRITE. THE FUCKING SPRITE. i don’t believe anyone who says they didn’t shit their pants the first time they saw this what is up with those TEETH!!! kokichi’s other freaky sprites are all at least a little cute, in a creepy sort of way, but this one has what i can only refer to as Horse Energy and it terrifies me.

-uhh other important things to note about this scene,,,,kokichi’s teacher’s pet gambit pays off again! sure, monokuma only helps him to make the game more interesting, but do you think he’d believe, like, kaito or shuichi if they came to him with these claims? i don’t think so. he does this because kokichi has proven himself as an ally to the mastermind. (he’s going to throw away all that credit by the next chapter, but we’ll get to that when we get to it).

-that’s all for today! see you next time, where we’ll hopefully bang out the rest of daily life.

[thescrapbookingscientist]

Biweekly Media Roundup

- The Adam Project (Movie) - This sure was a movie huh. It wasn’t so bad that I feel like writing a dissertation on it but boy it wasn’t any good either. Everyone in the movie just spoke in that Ryan Reynolds quip humor which I have liked in the past but here it was way too much and not particularly clever or funny, and really got in the way of any sort of emotional depth or realism the story was trying to convey-Everything just felt forced and unnatural. The story also didn’t make much sense, I like time travel stories as a whole, but the characters were time traveling to prevent time travel from being invented which?? Maybe you’ll stop it from being invented at that specific time but if it's a possible phenomenon then someone will invent it at some point dude, I don’t think this is solving anything. They also pull the “I can’t tell someone that they're going to die cause that might change the future” despite the fact that everything they are doing is actively and intentionally changing the future. I think the only thing I was impressed by was the protagonists house which was this incredibly nice open-air Cabin in the wood, wish I lived there. Anyway, don’t watch this, you can find better things to do.

- Buddy Daddies (Anime) - The only non-sequel anime I decided to watch this season, I am having fun with Spy X Family Gay Dads addition. I can’t say it’s doing anything unexpected but if you like this kind of thing it’s competent enough, and I do really like the perpetually tired half-shaved updo character design of the darker haired father. The ending theme is quite cute and the comedy is solid so far, my main hopes going forward are that the child character is allowed to have some depth outside of “cute toddler” and that we get more backstory/interactions between the male leads and what their deal is. Good wholesome show for now.

- The Vampire Dies In No Time (Anime) - Hey it’s back. I’m actually surprised it got a sequel season as I didn’t think the first one did that well but hey, I’m happy it’s here. The comedy can be hit or miss and even actively cringey sometimes so it’s hard to recommend, but I really enjoy these characters and their unconventional family. There’s just no other series I can go to where a guy comes over to his arch-nemeses house to show his roommate a PowerPoint Presentation he made of why that guy’s the worst. It’s stupid in the best way possible. Can’t wait to see more of Best Boy John as well. 

- JJBA: Stone Ocean (Anime) - People turned into Snails last time, that was fun.

- The Greatest Estate Developer (Webcomic) - I’m so tempted to just read the webnovel for this, as I do plan to eventually, but I told myself I would finish ORV first so it might be awhile. It’s just the perfect comfort food though, I love the asshole best friend's dynamic of the leads and the continuous betterment of society Lloyd brings to the World. We’ll see if this will motivate me to finally finish ORV or if I’ll just cave first. 

- Demon Slayer (Anime) - Don’t have much to say, rewatching this with my sister, it’s cute with good animation and nice characters, I enjoy it a reasonable amount. 

- The S Classes That I Raised (Webcomic) - Successfully got my sister into this now which I consider a win. 

- Sense8 (TV) - Yup.

- Persona 5 Royal (Video Game) - Okay so here’s what I’ve actually been doing all week, this game has consumed my life. I’ll save most of my thoughts until I’m closer to the conclusion but for now I really adore the visuals and stylistic flair of the game as well as the character interactions-I appreciate that the Phantom Thieves actually hang out and feel like friends, it’s surprisingly common for media to just have the cast say they’re close without ever actually showing them spending time together so I’m grateful. The music's also solid, though 50 hours in it’s starting to haunt my daily hours as well. I’m going to make this my whole personality in February, watch me. 

I also watched the first episode of The Last of Us, though I’ll hold off on judgement for now. Demon School has also gotten better so I’m keeping up with that too.

Listening to: Persona 5 OST, Troublemaker by Olly Murs, As It Was by Harry Styles, Anti-Hero by Taylor Swift, Tangled Up by Caro Emerald, Hell’s Comin’ with Me by Poor Mans Poison, Kaibutsu - AmaLee cover, The Fine Print by The Stupendium, Do It All The Time, Waste by Oh Wonder, Stay by Reinaeiry, Black Magic by Little Mix, Kiss Me Son Of God by They Might Be Giants

[ahiddenpath]

Life Update

Rambling about my life beneath the cut.  

CW:  Mentions of Alzheimer’s and care facilities.

So, my company let go of a good chunk of people.  I still have my job, which, honestly...  I would have preferred being laid off, lol!  They decided to get rid of some satellite locations to save on the rent (the company is very low on cash), and the people who worked there were laid off.  This move secured about another 5 months of cash flow for the company, at the average rate we have been spending.

In the meantime, they have started reorganizing the people who remain- and they seem to have no clue what they actually...  Want... from that.  It’s also been an absolute mess with them trying to move lab equipment from the other sites to our remaining site.  I’ve basically been treated as a lab planner and mover for a few weeks- not just me, basically anyone the facilities manager walks past at the wrong moment- and it’s terrible, lol?  That’s always been a huge problem with my company- “our lack of planning is now your emergency.”  I told my boss I can’t conduct experiments and stop what I’m doing to be a mover or planner at the drop of a dime.  It seemed to help- I suspect the facilities manager didn’t tell the managers that they were ordering scientists around without warning.

Meanwhile, more coworkers are leaving, because...  Like, of course they are?  My immediate coworker is on paternity leave for 2-3 weeks, or I guess...  The length depends on how his wife does and how much time off he has, I don’t know.  It’s been a really rough month or two for me.  

I am cognizant that I can quit, but...  Hm.  I feel like quitting is off the table, but being laid off...  Hey, that wasn’t my fault, it happens all the time in biotech.  My ideal solution here is that someone buys the company for its intellectual properties and lets go of most of the employees with a big company severance package.  This would also increase the value of our stock, which has been underwater for a long time.  Then, I could have some time off and search for a new position at my leisure, rather than simultaneously dealing with all of this while job hunting, which is one of the worst experiences out there that isn’t, like, an emergency.  But I can’t bring myself to actively hope for this- people need their jobs.  But those jobs won’t be there if the company really does go under, which is a real possibility- at least this would give us better severance, in theory?

I need to figure something out.  To be honest, I’m in a weird place where I’m finally making good money in my career, but I’m unhappy with it and so burnt out and stressed all the time.  At the same time, after 10 years of writing daily, I finally feel like...  Maybe I could become a novelist?  Maybe?  But that’s such an enormous gamble...

Meanwhile, my mom’s situation with her husband is not great (I got into this situation in an earlier life post, but I don’t want to rehash it here, apologies).  Basically, the hospital lied to her.  They claimed that they agreed to send her husband to long term care for people with medical needs that their families can’t meet.  She signed him out of the hospital.  They actually sent him to a short term physical therapy care facility- and they removed his heart conditions and his Alzheimer’s from his chart, meaning that he has no reason to be there on paper.  He’s likely to be released soon, and back with her.  Not ideal, considering what happened during his last Alzheimer’s episode.  

Meanwhile, the work on our house is finally complete.  It went over by about a week and a half- long enough for my cats to learn that they would be confined to my husband’s office while the contractor’s work, and get rebellious about it.  It was stressful, but the improvements are lovely.  And my husband painted the downstairs office as a surprise for me while I was at work!  He took a day off and did it!  So I was able to order the big bookshelf for in there today!  He’s the sweetest in the world.

I’m trying to stay...  You know...  I don’t know, calm, functioning.  I’ve been leaning on creating and exercising, hard.  I’m a bit of a personal crossroads with the job and future career thing.  I imagine it happens to most people at some point in their lives- is this what I want?  Am I just doing this to get the money I need to live?  If yes, is there anything I can do about that?  If no, how do I come to terms with that?  Etc, etc.  

Wherever you are in life right now, I’m always hoping for the best for you, my dear.

[littlemisslol-fic]

Day Four: Flirt

Summary: My submissions for Effin' Varigo week! Big thanks to battybatzgirl for setting it up! Hugo and Varian have been dating for three years, and are finally ready to take their relationship to somewhere a lot more serious. However, the world has other plans. With Hugo's proposal in shambles, and Varian focused on saving their friends, they think things can't really get any worse.

They would be wrong.

Prompts are Family ‧ Firework ‧ Fever ‧ Flirt ‧ Fight/Forgive ‧ Future ‧ and Free Day!

Notes: Nostalgia gives a bit of levity to the situation… but not for long.

The next day has Varian wandering out into the woods again. He’s up early, leaving Hugo to sleep before he’s out the door and into the misty dawn—early enough that the grass is still wet with dew and the moors are cloudy and thick. Varian’s seen countless mornings like this in Old Corona, though the forest is a much more untamed version of the same tableau.

The light of a new day gives him a much better vantage. He starts with gathering enough dry wood to last them a long while, and then he manages to scrounge up some wild blackberries from a nearby bush. Sun what he wouldn’t give for Ruddiger to be here. The little critter’s so good at finding food out in the wild, it’s almost unfair. On the other hand, Varian wouldn’t want to put his pet under the stress of the last twenty four hours, not in a million years.

He’ll have to just go it alone.

So he does. The berries get picked and wrapped in a small cut of cloth, the wood is stacked in a haphazard pile outside the cabin, and the fire is stoked back to life. It’s been a very profitable hour. Varian’s almost proud of himself.

Hugo’s just started to stir. Healing’s been obviously taking its toll on his energy, but already the blond looks much better than yesterday. The paleness is gone, as is the sweat, and he’s breathing easy.

But the leg.

The leg looks way worse now that the bruises have had time to develop. To be blunt, it’s pretty gnarly. While the swelling’s down thanks to the willow bark, the colour has deepened into a harsh purple with sickly yellow surrounding the edges—not good, not good at all.

Varian frowns at it, but Hugo gently takes his hand to distract him. “Hey,” he says, “it feels like hell but you’re right; I don’t think it’s broken. So that’s a win, isn’t it?”

Always the optimist. “Yeah, you’re right. I still want to see if I can find any ginger for you though. There’s a garden out back I haven’t checked yet—will you be okay if I abandon you for a few minutes?”

“As long as you leave breakfast here, sure.” Hugo’s expression turns goofy as he plucks up a blackberry and tosses it high before catching it in his mouth. He grins at his successful trick. Varian can’t help but laugh.

“Deal. Be good while I’m out.”

“Yessir, doctor goggles.”

Varian rolls his eyes as he exits. The sunlight’s stronger now, the early morning wash of violet and blue giving way to proper morning’s bright greens and browns. The woods are, at the very least, nice to look at. The alchemist walks around the back of the cabin to the remnants of a garden, and starts to poke around.

This was definitely a hunting retreat of some kind, there’s no doubt about it. The garden’s not so much a traditional one, like Quirin’s vegetable garden, or a beautiful one like Queen Arianna’s prized roses, but instead it’s one of utilitarian purpose. They’re all plants that can be stuck in the ground and left alone—little to no maintenance, meaning that whoever put them here didn’t expect to be around daily. Despite the garden being covered in moss and overgrowth the plants are still going strong.

“Mint… aloe… garlic… ah-ha!” He stoops, digging through the dirt and yanking out his prize. The ginger is an ugly little lump, but damn if he’s not a lucky son of a bitch. Varian can’t help but thank the gods above for the luck.

He quickly returns to Hugo, showing off his find. The blond perks up when Varian comes back, but frowns when the ginger is deposited in his lap.

“The fuck is this?”

Varian laughs. “It’s ginger. It’ll help with the swelling a lot.”

“It looks like a root.”

“It is a root, dingus. I think I saw a teapot in one of the cabinets, we can make tea out of it.”

The alchemist heads over and opens the cabinet he’d seen it in, pulling the teapot out. Thankfully whoever had left this cabin hadn’t taken everything, leaving things that they hadn’t wanted. Things like moth-eaten blankets and a dented metal camp-set of mugs and a teapot. There’s also a few plates and bowls, all of them chipped, cracked, or dented in some way.

Varian can’t help but laugh. He and Hugo are more than a little beat up too. It’s almost poetic that they’ve all found refuge in the same place.

Either way. He grabs two cups and the teapot, quickly filling it from the sink and heading back. Hugo’s still inspecting the ginger with a suspicious expression. He turns it this way and that before Varian grabs it back from him.

“Thank you,” Varian snarks. Hugo sticks his tongue out but still settles back into the nest. Varian takes the knife out of his pocket and starts to slice the ginger before tossing it into the teapot—followed by putting the whole thing over their fire via a little hook sticking out from the hearth.

Once he’s finally done he sits back down in their nest, flopping back into the blankets with a sigh.

“Tired?” Hugo asks.

“Hm, yeah.” Varian closes his eyes and kicks until a blanket wraps around his aching feet. He’s still so exhausted. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“I could feel you tossing around.” Hugo’s voice is careful. “But I’ll also be honest, I think I went into a coma for a bit.” They both laugh, Varian feels an arm curl around his waist as Hugo settles beside him. “But it’s kind of nostalgic, isn’t it?”

Varian makes a questioning noise. He feels Hugo shrug. “You know, this. Us. Out in the wilderness together, breaking into abandoned buildings and spending the night. Making blanket nests and sleeping right next to the fire. Reminds me of when we first met.”

That’s… incredibly sweet actually. Varian’s face lights up in a blush, he can feel the heat of it. “I remember,” he mumbles. The alchemist rolls over to push his face into Hugo’s shoulder. “Gods it really took me a year to get my head on straight and tell you I loved you, huh?”

Hugo chuckles. “I wasn’t much better, to be fair.”

Varian smiles and kisses the skin of his boyfriend’s shoulder. “That’s okay,” I love you anyways, “it’s not like there’s a re-do button. We got there in the end.”

“I dunno, I bet I could really woo you nowadays. I think I could set a Varian-dating speed record.”

The alchemist grumbles as Hugo starts to move. He ends up sitting up with Hugo, rubbing at his eye. “Wha—?”

“I know you don’t know me,” Hugo croons, “but I just had to come introduce myself. I can’t help it when such a cutie shows up in the same creepy abandoned cabin I’m in.”

“What the fuck—?”

“Shhh I’m committing to the bit—anyways my name is Hugo, and I saw you walk in and thought now there’s an alchemist who I’d like to get to know. Would you mind blessing me with my future boyfriend’s name, lovely?”

“What—?”

“What? Such an exotic name!”

“Hugo!”

“Another Hugo? That’ll make things awkward in the bedroom, but okay—”

Varian bursts out a laugh, coving his mouth to hide the giggles. This idiot. “It’s Varian, you know that!”

Hugo hums and leans close. Their noses are almost touching; Hugo’s eyelids half-lid, focusing deeply on Varian’s own baby blues. “Varian,” he croons. It makes the heat rise higher in Varian’s cheeks. Hugo’s smile grows at the obvious reaction. “A beautiful name for a beautiful boy!”

Varian covers his eyes with his hands. “Shut uppppp,” he whines. “Shut up right now!”

“I simply cannot.” Hugo leans over then, pressing his bodyweight onto Varian. “I’m enthralled by the height of alchemical prowess in front of me.”

“I will leave you here, I swear.”

“Hmmm I dunno, I saw the way you looked at me. I think you should let me take you out on the town.”

Right. Two can play at that game. “You think you can afford me?” Varian asks. He’s joking, but it’s rather fun to pretend. “What would a night on the town entail, hm?”

Hugo’s face lights up now that Varian’s playing along. “Oh, just wining, dining, and dancing until our feet get sore.”

Varian leans back into Hugo’s side. The blond is warm against his arm, a comforting thing. “Is that all? I expected a bit more from someone who claims to be my future boyfriend.”

“Oh, but that’s only the first day. After that, once you’re irrevocably charmed by my suave personality and good looks I’ll simply take you on a whirlwind adventure across the seven kingdoms. Then, after that, we’ll get married with the largest celebration of the year, followed by a decade long honeymoon and the construction of a castle of our very own.”

The alchemist tries to keep his blush down at the mention of marriage. “And then what?”

Hugo pauses, like he’s pondering. “Then I’ll make you the happiest Mr. The-Human I can. Until the day we die.”

Ha, Varian had forgotten about Hugo’s old wanted posters. Hugo the Human, what a silly thing to call someone. But the rest of it… hm. It sounds really kind of nice.

They’d talked about the M-word, he and Hugo. Marriage is something Varian had never thought was in the cards for him, not after being a bit of an odd-duck for a majority of his life. No one had ever given the weird alchemist kid a second look, not that Varian really paid much attention. He’d been too busy wrapped up in his experiments and research to ever really think about a future partner.

But then he’d met Hugo, and all that had gone out the window.

It’d be a lie to claim that Varian hadn’t fantasized about a future for them together. In the wee hours of the morning, maybe a year after they’d started dating, he’d laid awake and stared at the ceiling, thinking about what if. The idea of him and Hugo getting married, working to make the Eternal Library more habitable for human life, growing grey and wrinkly together… it gives Varian butterflies in his stomach.

The thoughts had only multiplied when Hugo moved into Varian’s room at the castle officially. Waking up to Hugo’s sleeping face every day, kissing him with gross morning breath and getting ready for the day together, it really hammered home how much Varian wanted. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Hugo, to get the chance to hold him close and say this one’s mine.

Marriage was an obvious way of achieving that goal. They’d spoken about it barely a few weeks ago, actually—a frank conversation in the middle of the night when their walls were low. Varian knows that Hugo is in the same boat, and that Hugo wants to be the one to propose. He knows this, but it doesn’t make the excitement any easier to deal with.

It’s been like pulling teeth to wait. Part of Varian wants to damn it all and just buy a stupid ring already, but Hugo had been so adamant on wanting to be the one… Varian wouldn’t take the chance away from him. Whatever Hugo’s reasoning, Varian would respect his request. Even if he constantly feels giddy with excitement every time he thinks about the looming question.

He’s been waiting for so long. Well. Not really. It’s only been a few weeks since they’d agreed. But a few weeks is too long when he’s this ready! Varian was ready to just jump past the wedding and elope the moment they’d agreed on what comes next.

To be honest… he’d hoped that yesterday had been the day. All their friends together, an idyllic valley full of wild flowers, and a wonderful picnic that had both of them more than content. The way Hugo had been speaking—it really had felt like yesterday could have been it. But then the Baron… and the explosions… and they’d jumped.

Maybe it wasn’t the day. The thought is sour, but probably correct. Hell, maybe Hugo’s stalling to keep Varian from getting upset by a no—but Varian refuses to even think that. Hugo loves him, and he loves Hugo. This is as solid a fact as the sun rising in the east and a teaspoon of mass from a neutron star weighing six billion tons.

He’s tired. And dirty. And his boots are probably still wet from the lake. He’s definitely a little more than upset at being stuck out here, and obviously that’s why his thoughts are going so negative. Also probably why his brain is going on random, sappy tangents like this. Yesterday may not have been the day, but Varian knows it’s coming. He just has to be patient.

So he looks at Hugo, who’s mostly been busy laughing at his own joke. His heart swells with love, love for the guy who’d spent a year of his life following Varian into deadly traps and countless trials, and had still doubted that he was good enough to dare to love. Who’d needed time and kindness and a soft hand, but had flourished so wonderfully with such little effort—and who had spent every day since they’d nearly lost it all trying to make up for his mistake.

Yeah. Varian can see spending the rest of his life with this dumbass. Can see it so easily. So he breaks the joke and leans forward to press a long kiss to Hugo’s lips. The blond’s face goes slack in surprise before kissing back enthusiastically—Hugo is nothing if not content to make out for a bit regardless of where they are. Varian tries his best to convey what he’s feeling through the motions, pouring all his love and affection into the gentle touches and small sighs, and hopes it’s enough.

I’ll make you the happiest Mr. The-Human I can. Until the day we die.

Varian smiles.

“I think I’d like that.”

———  ✧  ———

They aren’t able to move out today. Varian takes another look at Hugo’s leg sometime around the late afternoon and, unfortunately, it hasn’t changed much. Hugo chances a few stumbling steps around the cabin but he can’t get very far before he has to sit again. He barely can make a lap around the room. It’s not great.

It takes a lot of effort to keep from getting snippy. Varian objectively knows that splitting up is a terrible idea but the longer they wait here means more time for Eugene, Lance, and Rapunzel to remain with the Baron. The thought makes ants crawl under his skin, irritating and jittery and making Varian want to move. He needs—he needs to fix something. To make progress. All this waiting is going to kill him.

It’s a strange dichotomy. On the one hand he knows they’ll have to wait until tomorrow at the very least before leaving the relative safety of the cabin and heading back to the glade for a rescue—but on the other, they’re wasting so much time. There’s no telling what their family is going through right now.

But Hugo needs time to heal.

But their family is in danger.

And Varian feels pulled in two directions and ready to shake out of his goddamn skin. It’s incredibly frustrating.

He’s back out in the woods again. The berry bushes had been sparse, so he’s hoping for something a bit more substantial for lunch; Hugo had tried to get up and walk out the door, but Varian had pushed him back down.

(“Sweetheart really, I can help! It’s just a little bruising—”

“Not a chance. You’re going to sit here and not move an inch until I get back. The more you push yourself now, the longer it’ll take for you to actually heal. Remember that time you got the flu?”

Hugo pouts. “I thought we promised never to talk about that.”

Varian presses a sassy kiss to the blond’s nose. “I didn’t promise shit.”)

Either way. He’s on his own again. So far the game plan is to head to the river he’d gotten the willow bark from last night. It seemed deep enough that there might be a perch or two swimming about, maybe a sunfish if he gets lucky. Anything he might be able to snatch out of the water like Quirin had taught him ages ago; for years the alchemist had complained about his father insisting Varian know how to live off the land, but it’s come in handy more than once in the past day.

Maybe he’d bring his dad flowers next time he went to visit.

If they didn’t. You know. Die out here.

Varian sucks in a quick breath to dispel the thoughts. No need for that, thank you. He’s got enough to deal with, without his mind immediately aiming for the worst possible outcome. There’s only so much energy he has left.

Though it hadn’t hit early in the morning, aches and soreness had quickly started to run through his legs, especially after all the walking—his shoulders were hit too. He’d discreetly grabbed some of the willow bark for himself, though that means he’d have to grab more before the evening.

Ah well, all the more reason to get to the river.

He can hear it in the distance, the babbling brook, but as Varian approaches the splashes of water seem much more violent than they had last night. The alchemist slows his footsteps as he gets closer, crouching low in the underbrush. He peeks out into the clearing, sucking in a scared breath at what he sees—or, more specifically, who he sees.

“Any sign of them?” Weasel snaps. Six large, burly men are scattered through the riverbed and the surrounding area, poking through the bushes and scanning for footprints.

“Nothing here!” one of the men calls. The others return in kind, all negative. Varian covers his mouth with his had as his heart jumps in his throat. They’re getting close to the willow tree—he hadn’t thought to cover his tracks in the dark. Shit. Shit.

He watches as they continue to comb the riverbed for clues. Weasel seems annoyed, his arms are crossed and his face is set in a firm scowl.

“You heard the boss,” he shouts at his men. “He wants them back unharmed—not a scratch! We don’t go back without ‘em.”

“Unless they died in the river,” a voice nearby mutters. Varian’s body locks up in fear as one of the men—one he hadn’t accounted for—draws close to his hiding place. He’s frozen, like a deer caught in a blinding light. The goon poking around in front of him is massive! He looks like he could deadlift Varian and Hugo with one arm, which is a terrifying thought; Varian can’t even breathe and his chest locks in terror. The guy’s knees are eye-level with Varian, close enough to reach out and touch.

If he gets caught, what would become of Hugo?

Varian knows his eyes are as wide as saucers. He doesn’t dare blink, focused intently on the man as he peers out into the woods right above Varian’s head. Oh seven hells. Varian sends a quick prayer up to whoever’s listening—it must work, as Weasel barks out another annoyed command.

“Keep moving! We don’t have all day you useless sacks of—”

The man keeps snapping insults at his goons. The grunt standing right in front of Varian sighs something about benefit packages not being worth thisbefore finally moving on. The alchemist doesn’t dare move, doesn’t dare breathe, until he can’t hear a thing from the men. It’s only once the silence creeps back in that Varian lets himself gasp a heaving choke of air, slowly creeping back from the edge of the woods.

He’s so acutely aware of every snapping twig, every rustle of leaves and dirt; they all echo in his ear to cut through his frantic heartbeat. The bloody thing feels like it’s about to jump out of his chest with how fast it’s going.

Hell. Fucking hell.

Varian manages to extract himself from the brush and scurry back to the path leading to the cabin. They’re incredibly lucky that none of the men noticed it. He sprints as fast as he can, adrenaline and fear taking hold of his aching limbs and forcing him forward.

He needs to get back to Hugo—back to the relative safety of their little hideaway—and quick! If the blond still can’t run and the men find him…

Dread settles deep in Varian’s gut at the thought. He picks up the pace, forcing himself to push through the brush. They need to make a plan, and fast. Things had changed. The timeline Varian had in his mind would have to be accelerated.

He wants them back unharmed… we don’t go back without ‘em.

The fear grows.

Varian’s panic grows with it.

[invincible-era]

eras described in like a paragraph or something

off the wall era: silly guy with his first album doing very well! I don’t know enough about this era :(

thriller era: homosexual who sleeps in an oxygen chamber to keep youth and isn’t passing enough because of his tboy voice*. He has a closet full of 50 awards, and would you look at that! He has to drive to an award ceremony tonight to pick up another 2. Birth of the overrated: thriller beat it and billie jean. Except his religion people hate thriller so he was scared so he was like “NO MORE THRILLER >:((( PWEASEE!!! NO MORE NO MORE!”

“Tabloids please be normal about me for once”

-Michael jackson at the beginning of thriller /jjj**

also rip his hairline forever </3 stupid pepsi

bad era: “Wanna collab with me Prince? :D” “I aint becoming a tranny with you.” “Oh ok :(“***. haha butt. solo tour that will definitely be his last hahahhahahahha. Right? “Leave me alone ok? Ok. :)” “so i have this idea, moonwalk right? So lets just make this my whole personality and a whole ass marketing campaign.” Birth of the overrated: smooth criminal. Bad (debatable) (only bad though). Made a silly autobiography and did a silly thing with it (new york times bestseller i think). Stupid warner bros and their stupid warner bros things for not making moonwalker in theathers, also silly game! And like only :(. He saves children. Lets hope that totally doesn’t backfire shit later on hahahahahhaha. This is where he died. I think. End of tboy era moving foward </3

dangerous era: uhhh, JAM. Mmm jam. He had silly mv with jordan. He had a cool panther uhh. He has to tour :( again :(. He hates Americans i think because it was completely out of the us. Except for the final show or two in hawaii but does that even count. Epic superbowl halftime performance, lots of kids! Hopefully this doesn’t make alot of people turn on him later ahhahahahahahahaha. Right? He cares about world :D. Lyrics lyrics black or white. Start of tgirl era. Everything seems normal right right?

History era: “GAHHHH I HATE FUCKING ADULTS”. Allegations hit, something to do with children idk. Wonder why. His love of children definitely couldn’t be misinterpreted by sickos right? Ahahha. no. He’s so fucking mad he fantasizes about starting a dictatorship. 6 fucking statues of him around the world. But before that, he adresses that awful problems aroune the world. HOW IS HE GONNA BE A DICTATOR IF THE PLANETS FUCKNG DYING? AND PEOPLE ARE BEING TREATED LIKE SHIT? “I just want childhood :(“ “hey janet wanna do silly collab where we yell about fucking adults?” “Sure Michael!!” “I’m gonna be silly and name history as book one and never release book 2 :3” “history…. Sounds boring, HIStory!! People still see me as tboy anyways”**** “awh man i have to tour :((((“ he can’t do this anymore so much so no more albums no more shit.

Invincible era: “hey guys i made more music :D” “wow this sucks” “oh ok :(“. “Hey michael, we’re gonna be like total racist assholes and not promote your new album. At all!” “People already hate me I FUCKING HATE YOU SONY. I HATE CORPS, TIME TO YELL ABOUT SONY FUCKING SUCKING”

“Oh shit! I overslept wah- why the fuck are people yelling outside- oh. Well there goes tour plans. Sony fucking sucks anyway.”*****

“Hehehe silly autograph :3”

some awful british guy wants to do a doc on Michael and his daily life. He Agrees, he doesn’t want anything cut or censored. Except British guy does and decides to do 360 and hate Michael while narrating the doc. What happened to not believing the shit? HUH? Thanks to the british, Michael gets charged like 500 crimes :)

oh and his house gets raided and searched. Cool /s. Michael literally feels neverland is no longer his house so he fucking moves. He’s also in awful debt! fun trials so he decides to just pay the god awful families but people use that against him so one one wins i guess.

and thats all!!! I am not going into after! Cause god that would be too long!

*people thought he was using hormones to make his voice higher. Along with the other rumors stated before

**the beginning message of thriller is memed about alot in ytp, he really hated the tabloids so fucking much. ***prince turned down the collab because “your butt is mine” lyric, said something like “who’s singing that to the other? Cause i sure aint”

****he didn’t say that. People do keep saying he was always really masculine though so. *****Michael was supposed to be in one of the buildings the planes struck during 9/11. He overslept though. Tour plans for invincible were planned but canceled due to 9/11 and stinky sony