#and when i say i found out how to pronounce loves name last week

[celestialspritz]

IT IS TWENTY TWENT-EIVOR

[trulyhblue]

hello hello!!! can i request a niamh fic wheres shes dating a single parent and niamh just treats the kid like her own because the other parent isn't in the picture?! sorry if this doesn't make sense lmao

Brown-Eyed Girl

Niamh Charles x Reader

warnings — bit suggestive at the end.

A little baby blurb for you all <3

______________

Emmeline had a tight grip on your hips as you swayed her exhilarated figure across your chest. You had finally gotten out of the house, a Spiderman backpack adorned by your side, and your daughter babbling on about the day the two of you were about to have.

Despite popular belief, being a single parent was the greatest gift you had ever received. You had Emmeline just shy of three years ago, and she quickly became your best friend through everything. Your daughter was a spitting image of you, but the contributions of your past partner still took over her brown, beady eyes, and gorgeous skin.

Emmeline was shy. She was personal and dainty, and only said what she could in phrases of mumbles to people she wanted close to. In many ways, she was a ray of sunshine, willing to stand out and be bold with friends and family. But she was your baby, your darling girl since you had found out you were pregnant, and she was your biggest priority no matter what.

When you first met Niamh, Emme was the one to tell you that the two of you were meant to be.

The English woman was patient and willing, even when she first found out you had a child to love and care for over her. If anything, she found you all the more endearing. Niamh would take her out for cafe dates, and walk her to and from preschool on the way to training. Emmeline would rant on and on about how Niamh would give her the best tickles, and when your baby was near, Niamh was always not far behind.

Your daughter undoubtedly looked up to the footballer. The first Chelsea game you attended was in the general admission seating, amongst the bustle of enriched fans and excitement radiating through cheers and screams. Niamh spotted the two of you in the crowd, offering you a nimble, modest wave, resulting in Emme giggling into your neck and pointing to the woman, rambling on about how she “wanted to be smart like Mummy but fast like ‘evie.”

Emme had trouble properly pronouncing her words. ‘Niamh’ was proven to be among the difficulties she endured, and all her little mouth could muster was ‘evie.’ It was short, and abbreviated, but full of love and adoration all the same.

After a few more games, watching the girl you were quickly falling for, people began to piece together the subtle clues of your relationship with the Chelsea player.

It all started with a fan taking a photo with Niamh after a game, and you were in the passenger seat, casually looking down at your phone oblivious to the photo being taken. At first, people brushed it off as you being a friend. But then, two weeks later, the same thing happened, but with Emmeline nuzzled underneath Niamh’s puffer jacket, her curly brown hair and reddened cheeks poking out from her collar.

Fans were reeling to piece together who this child was, and why you were all of a sudden showing up to games. The funny thing was that the two of you hadn’t even started dating yet. It was when Emmeline started asking when her Evie would move in, and whether she would ever stay to read her a bedtime story before going back to her place.

It was from there when you spent your weekends covered in a blue jersey with your girlfriend’s last name across your shoulders, forever wrapped around her finger with the warmth of your love and your daughter’s affection.

“Mummy— mummy! Will Auntie Guro be there?” Emmeline was wiping her nose on her sleeve, cradling the soft plushy toy in her arms as you held her closely to your chest. “Auntie Guro, I need to tell her.”

The walk through Chelsea’s facilities were long to say the least. The buildings seemed to prolong for miles, and you knew that if the baby in your arms was to be walking, she wouldn't be in the same, happy mood as she was now. “I'm not sure, Emme baby. Why, what do you want to tell her?”

“Talk about something, Mummy. Haven't seen Auntie in ages.” She dragged out, looking around the corridors in search of anyone she knew. “Will we be able to see Aggie as well? I wanna talk to her too, Mummy, please.”

“They might be busy with the cameras, darling girl.” You answered, finally hearing the familiar laughter of the team.

Today was media day, meaning spouses were allowed to roam the grounds at their own discretion. Emme was feeling good when she found out that she was coming to Niamh’s work with the rest of her aunts to talk to. While this didn't necessarily mean she was free to interact with any of them at any time, Emme was more concerned about simply being in their presence, and this was shown when she caught sight of Niamh sitting on a lounge in front of two interviewers, while none other than Guro sitting next to her.

Immediately, Emmeline squirmed in your grip but knew better than to sprint over to your girlfriend. This wasn't the first time the two of you had made your special appearances during Media allocations, so the girl knew that she wasn't permitted to leave your side and wander off in case she was caught with some unwanted attention.

You were fussed with the media involved in Emme, but you wanted to keep the engagement less on her and more on football. You knew people loved Emme, believe you. But there was sketchy stuff over social media, and you wanted to make sure that even with your daughter spending time with Niamh and her teammates in front of the public eye, it was minimal and harmless. There was never a time when someone would ask you to put her in a video or tell you that people wanted to ask her questions or put her in a position where you couldn't be there to aid and support her. On top of these precautions you implemented, Niamh was also significantly protective over the toddler.

If she was taking photos with fans, and Emme was on her hip, she’d either face the girl away from the camera or hide her in her jacket. You would oftentimes keep Emme with you when the two of you were in the football community, but there were a handful of times when people caught you off guard, and Emme was where nether of you were holding her.

Most of the time, people were accommodating in your rejection of interaction. Sometimes, they’d wait for you to keep Emme by your side before asking for a picture or question. Other times, Emme would latch onto your leg, hiding herself away from the strangers, acknowledging that she wasn't looking for attention.

“Wanna see them, Mummy,” Emme whispered, drawing excited circles along your collarbone. You combed your fingers through her hair, strolling over to where you were behind the cameras, looking to where your girlfriend and your daughter’s favourite Auntie found you in an instant.

Niamh instantly stood up off the couch, bending down to beckon Emme over. You bent down and let her go, laughing at the potent stomps echoed through the indoor establishment and the squeal she let out when falling into her arms.

“If it isn't the main character herself!” One of the interviewers said, the other smiling in adoration as Emmeline wrapped her legs around Niamh’s waist instinctively, making your girlfriend tuck her skirt under her legs, sitting the girl on her lap with her arms encircling the girl’s figure.

“Looking bright as ever, Y/N!” Guro waved brightly towards you. “How are you?”

“Yeah, good. Busy morning with this one.” You replied, a collective laughter ricocheting through the room. “She’ll knock out soon. She’s just had a hot chocolate, and the sugar rush will end.”

“She's so cute.” The Norwegian stated, moving down to make close eye contact with Emme, who was already giggling at the woman’s presence. “Aren't you, vakker? Jeg er din favoritt, ikke sant?” I'm your favourite, aren't I?

“Ja, jeg elsker deg, Auntie Guro.” Yes, I love you.

Guro blushed and cooed at that, kissing your daughter’s nose and pinching her cheeks with a loving smile plastered across her face. Niamh took the jacket off, the warmth of Emmeline’s body heating her enough. You watched the teammates continue their interview, smiling at the subtle wink Niamh sent your way.

They had asked Emme a few questions indirectly, asking you before if it was okay. You agreed, finding Niamh’s prompts completely adorable.

Emme would ramble about stuff that wasn't even related to the question, but Niamh would subtly steer her back in the right direction. If Emme was getting ditsy, she’d bounce her thigh in jitters, sending the toddler back into a relaxed, comfortable state.

As you predicted, Em fell asleep fifteen minutes later, quietly snoring, relishing the patterns Niamh drew on her back, gripping onto Guro’s hand absentmindedly. You had taken a seat behind the set, replying to some emails, half listening to the questions being asked in what seemed to be a podcast of sorts.

When they finished, Niamh and Guro invited you onto the couch, letting you take Emme from Niamh with a peck of her lips.

“If you ever want to spend time without her, I would happily take her,” Guro announced, rubbing the child’s cheek. “Oh, she's so cute. I'm jealous of you, Charles. An adorable baby and a hot girlfriend.”

Niamh shot the woman a testing look, shaking her head at the laughter you let out in response.

“You would give her too many sweets, Reiten,” Niamh replied. You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks when her arms fell across your shoulders. “You wouldn't be able to say no to her.”

Guro scoffed. “Who would be able to say not to such a beautiful baby?”

Niamh chuckled. “Point proven.”

That was the last of Niamh’s duties for today, meaning that the two of you were homebound after a few more minutes of talking with Guro.

You both thanked the crew and other members of staff on the way out, trying your best to be quiet in order not to wake the baby up.

“Where’s your car?” Your girlfriend asked, searching for your keys in the spiderman bag.

“We walked.” You replied, taking Niamh’s keys out of her jean’s pockets and handing them to her.

“No wonder she's so tired, baby. I could of picked you up.”

“She only walked halfway, Niamhy, baby.” You rolled your eyes, sighing. “She's gotten the expectation that someone will carry her whenever she feels like it.”

You threw a pointed glare at the woman, smirking at her guilty face.

“She's a princess.” Niamh retorted. “If her feet are sore, I’ll carry her.”

“She's becoming very demanding, I think.”

“She's a good girl.” She answered, watching as you buckled the sleeper into her seat. “Don't act like you're not demanding at times.”

You scoffed, climbing into the passenger seat with a prominent, joking scowl. “And when have I been demanding, huh? I don't recall asking you to carry me round everywhere.”

“Oh, I can,” Niamh responded smugly. Your eyebrows creased in confusion. “Don't you remember the other night? Acting very demanding and ended up not walking properly the next day… had you begging and shaking for me to—”

“—Yep, okay, thank you.” You snapped, crossing your arms across your chest. “I doubt that if you just had edged for four consecutive orgasms you’d feel inclined to walk around.”

“If you had been good, then you would've just had the orgasms, not the edging.”

“Let's not talk about this with the baby in the car.” You muttered, trying hard not to think about the events of a few nights before.

“Alright, darling. Just remember that good girls get rewards.”

You sighed, your cheeks heating up. “You're a tease, Charles.”

Niamh didn't reply, keeping her hand on your thigh all the way home, making sure to keep her complacent countenance noticeable until you made it home.

“You love me for it.”

_____________

niamh charles

Liked by guroreiten, leahwilliamson, and 126, 342 others

niamh charles — family bits

tagged — yourusername

Comments:

yourusername — we love our Evie 💕

^ niamhcharles — love my girls 💗

guroreiten — niesen min er like vakker som mammaen hennes 🤍

* liked by creator

^ yourusername — emme’s missing her auntie guro all the time xx

user78 — this is my roman empire. if this fails, I fail.

^ user23 — this is girlhood.

^ user28 — baby emme is literally living our dreams

^ user98 — Y/N living mine 😋

samanthakerr — baller baby 👶

^ yourusername — 🤣

milliebright — I bags the next interview 🥰

^ niamhcharles — sorry, guro already did

^ milliebright — emme likes me more

^ guroreiten — its time to face the truth

^ milliebright — 😐

user4 — Emme is the cutest toddler I have ever seen

^ user90 — the way she crawls into Niamh and wraps her legs around her in the interview 😭 she is such a good mother I can't

^ user65 — wait is Emme Niamh’s child or Y/N’s?

^ user90 — Y/N is Emme’s mother, but Niamh is another parental figure for Emme.

chelsea — pro contract incoming?? @yourusername

^ yourusername — she likes the colour red more I think…

^ milliebright — what have you done? @niamhcharles

^ niamhcharles — this is simply not true.

___________________

CHELSEA WFC PODCAST WITH GURO REITEN & NIAMH CHARLES FT. SPECIAL GUEST

time — 13 minutes, 36 seconds.

Interviewer one — if it isn't the main character herself

Guro — *looking off camera* Looking bright as ever, Y/N. How are you?

Y/N, Niamh Charles’ partner — yeah good. Busy morning with this one…

* time skip*

Interviewer — so Niamh, on a more personal note, how is everything going?

Niamh — yeah, really good. I'm really happy at the moment. *looks down and off camera* I've got a lot of love for others at the moment, and a lot of things that I look forward to seeing after training, games, and just work in general. Yeah, it's been really great, actually.

Interviewer — how’s it been with a child in the mix? How have you found that?

Niamh — um, yeah, it's been great. Look, I'm very privileged to be in this one's life. She's my favourite little girl in the whole world, and I just love her to bits. She's incredible, her mother’s so admirable, and I'm just glad that I'm in her life.

Interviewer — you look a bit jealous over their, Reiten.

Guro — *sighs* Emme is just— ugh I cannot even put it into words. She's just brought the team so much closer. I don't know how, but all children just bring this innocence that wasn't there before, and Emme is just so beautiful, and always brings so much light to everyone’s day. And I think she’s made Niamh’s life so much brighter too. Jesus, you don't understand how much I love this little baby girl.

Niamh — im scared you're going to steal her one day

Guro — oh, I will. Her and your girlfriend if you're not careful.

* Y/N laughs off camera*

Niamh — Hey! Don't laugh about that!

Guro — See! Even she agrees.

__________________

A/N — ugh how I love baby fics.

[alpacalypse141]

Chaos duo Swagger and Gromsko COD Headcanons

Warning: None

In the beginning everyone mispronounced Swagger original call sign all the time. After the third time he quickly give up correcting people and stick with it. They call him Swagger because it's easier to pronounce and the closest thing in speech they can say.

When Gromsko introduced himself for the first time after hearing his first and last name they didn't let him finish and say "You're Gromsko from now on." and it wasn't negotiable so no one know why sometimes Swagger call Gromsko "Kostek" or "Bones"

His colleagues from Grom knowing Swagger past in France given him a nickname "Szwagier" (Brother-in-law) and they treated him as one.

The deeper, more symbolic meaning behind it is that after he came back to Poland from France he reunited not only with his people but with Poland itself. Not only a piece of land but a mother, lover and a soulmate. Accepting this nickname he made peace with himself and the way of life in Poland.

He's new brothers not only welcomed him with bread and salt and additional vodka but made sure he felt at home introducing him to various traditions he missed during his stay in France. Some of them were shocking and most left him hungover but overall he was happy knowing he finally belong somewhere.

The funnier version is that one night out with the team he was so drunk he flirted with not only his girl friends from unit but with Gromsko who wore a pink wig thinking he's a girl too. At the end of the night he even proposed to him. He's still denying it to this day. When Swagger gets to annoying instead of typical shut up Gomsko call him his husband with a smirk on his face and it always work.

Of course when Gromsko found out what they call him in english he laughed at it earning a punch in the vaccine but it didn't prevent him from telling his friends in Grom so they can tease him a little too.

Whatever they meet Gromsko make sure he doesn't forget his language so he only speak to him in Polish earning weird looks from people that don't understand. Of course they make fun of them speaking shit that doesn't make sense and sounds like gibberish to others. They even question if it's real language. They will never know.

Gromsko often fell urge to take care of Swagger. After all "All Poles are one family" and he take it very seriously. Even when he know Swagger is very talented and capable soldier he can't help but to think he still need guidance in the Polish ways called "*sztuka kombinowania" that make them unexpected and unpredictable.

From Swagger perspective he's the one that's voice of reason in this duo and say "What the fuck, bro?!" when Gromsko tell him his another brilliant idea "I know I'm a genius! Anyway next we will go to the kitchen and steal all...""There's MORE?!""YES!" "This is the most surreal and idiotic plan I have ever heard from you this week and it's only monday" "Shut up and listen." "..." "Trust me we're Polish it will work." is there something more beautiful than brothers love?

*Sztuka Kombinowania - The art of (It's hard to translate English doesn't have this word. It's kind of depending on the context it's meaning is to coming up with solutions to the various problems or how to do something in unique way. Can be good or bad thing)

If someone will be interested in reading more I will make part 2 were I'll tell more about how Gromsko got his call sign and a few story of their colleagues from Grom.

[laurasauras]

rose lalonde. that's it, that's the question.

isn't it just! god i love rose.

it's that she's one of those girls who pretends she has it all together, who thinks she's worth more because she is witty and can come up with brilliant burns exactly on cue, but she's also the girl who pretended her cat could talk to her and who would pretend to have a magnetic W as a mustache and is 13 and was probably making potions in the mud with a stick last week.

she's as cool and calm as a forest pond, and you know there are depths there but you assume those depths are things like "can commune with gods (really)" and "maybe she's telling the truth when she says she's read proust". and then you're 14 and so is she and you're finding out that the depths are "she learned how to cope with being bored and isolated and doomed from a mother she maybe shouldn't have forgiven".

and oh, i have all the pity in the world for momlonde. how awful to be put on this planet to raise a child who will end the world before creating a new one? how could you make friends under those circumstances, knowing they would all die because of what the universe has planned for your little girl? how could you sleep at night knowing that at the very least she'll be traumatised, but it's much more likely that she'll just be dead.

but rose didn't know any of that.

rose just knew that her mother wasn't around, not even to make sure she had the capacity to feed herself, let alone making sure that she was.

she knew that if she screamed that she wanted to kill herself or jammed needles in a (dead) powerpoint, her mother wouldn't talk to her, but she might be given a pony or something.

she knew that the only time her mother was around was when she was drunk, and when she was drunk she would be able to tell rose that she loved her and that she was perfect, and maybe she was merry or maybe she was crying but whatever it was, it was fucking hard to trust. because being sober next to a drunk person's sincerity is unbearable. you know that if they weren't drunk they wouldn't be crying or saying all of that, so it doesn't fucking count. and if you were so perfect and loved, then why would she even need to drink. you're 10 years old and you're supposed to be the centre of your mother's whole life, but you're not and you never have been. you're just the inconvenient kid she remembers when her breath stinks and she can't pronounce your name anymore.

and when you're 14 and she's dead and you're staring at the code you found while trying to make apple juice for someone who is your family (but you can't express your love for him), you remember being 4 and standing in her high heels, your ankles barely poking out of the toe of the shoe. and now they fit pretty damn well.

you're on a journey you can't speed up, knowing that at the end of all this bullshit that doesn't matter the people closest to you might be hurt, might be dead, and the air smells just a little bit doomed ... and in that golden window after two drinks but before five, your mom was charming and funny and beautiful, and she could actually say what she felt. if you're going on your first date with a woman who might make the meaningless tedium worth it, maybe you could use a little of that.

BUT ROSE ISN'T JUST HER TRAUMA!

Rose Is The Flame I Am Drawn To. She Makes Me Feel More Alive Just By Glancing At Me. I Am Bewitched By Her Intelligence And Electrified By Her Humour And Devoted To Her, Just Her, Everything That She Is

rose acts like shes a princess and like the rest of us should feel grateful that she even notices we exist but when you get down to it no one carries a bit like her. she matches me every goddamn step no matter what and she gets what its like to care without making some kind of deal about it

rose is just kind of a dork. it's funny how everyone thinks she's scary. okay, so in a battle between chuck norris and rose lalonde, chuck is going home crying about his kicked nuts and his mommy issues, but just because rose is badass doesn't mean she isn't also the kind of girl who snorts milk through her nose laughing at me pretending to be a walrus with breadsticks. last week. we are 40.

(dear god i'm sorry about the inaccuracy of those text colours, it hurts me too)

so yeah. rose lalonde. that's it, that's the answer.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Hiiiii for your drabelfest can i have a jealous ex chaol???

Lost the Breakup

Written for my Drabblefest

Nonnie, you absolutely can. I’m addicted to Maisie Peters’ new album, so I took some inspiration from it if you don’t mind heheheh

Also, I wasn’t clear in the post but the Drabblefest legislator (me) is adamant about writing for every single ask I receive!! with very few exceptions that involve creepy illegal stuff. but i’m okay with writing fun illegal stuff like drugs or murder. allegedly. don’t look at me, fbi agent.

Warnings: language, this fic isn’t Chaol-friendly

1k words

⨯ ⁺ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ⨯ ﾟ♡ ✧* ･｡* ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

If anyone asked Aelin why she was sitting at a bar tonight, she wouldn’t know how to explain it. At least not without telling that last month she got the news that she’s not exciting and her boyfriend—now ex—isn’t in love anymore.

What she did know is that she must look pathetic having a drink by herself—which was definitely not the plan when Fenrys said he’d find someone to make her ex jealous. She sighed and texted her friend.

Aelin: where the hell is your himbo

Fen: on his way

Fen: just so you know

Fen: i picked him for his height and hotness

Fen: not his personality

Aelin: you’ll owe me one if he’s boring

Fen: i’m literally saving your ass

“Hey,” a highly familiar voice said when Aelin was texting a snarky response. “it’s been forever.”

“Hi,” Aelin gave him a taut smile. “what a coincidence.”

And by that, she meant what a coincidence that after stalking every college bar you go to on Instagram, checking which posts with daily plans you and your friends liked, and narrowing it down to two options, we ended up in the same place at the same time.

“So…” Chaol cleared his throat. “you wanna get a drink? Like, together.”

When Aelin opened her mouth to say no, a guy she recognized from the football team—Ronan? Roman?—put his arm around her shoulder and looked down at Chaol.

“Babe.” He cocked his head, looking down at Chaol. “Is he bothering you?”

Still sitting on her stool, Aelin leaned her head against Ronan’s torso, sent Chaol a fake apologetic look and said, “I’m kinda busy, but thanks.”

“Sure.” Chaol gave them a stiff nod. His jaw was tight, his movements unnaturally smooth as he walked away with clenched hands on his sides.

Dear Mala, it looked a lot like Aelin was about to win the breakup.

Ronan’s eyes were squinted at Chaol as her ex walked out. “The way Fenrys begged me to come here to make him jealous made me think he’d at least be hot.”

Aelin opened her mouth with a retort ready, but closed it again when something clicked “What do you mean Fenrys begged you to come?”

“I only came when he made it clear he was asking for a favor, not playing matchmaker.”

Aelin sipped her Moscow Mule, trying to figure Ronan out. “You won’t have a date with a girl unless it’s to make her ex jealous?”

He snorted. “Not a date Fenrys finds me, no.”

After brief introductions and a round of drinks, Aelin found out his name was actually Rowan, not her other guesses. She was so close, but the roll her tongue did while pronouncing his actual name made it much sexier.

Also, she made a mental note to thank Fenrys later. She asked for a usual hot guy, and her friend sent her the gods’ favorite soldier, built like an ancient warrior.

“Tell me how this short man broke your heart.”

Aelin wrinkled her nose. What a way to burst her horny bubble.

“He told me a month ago that he was bored in our relationship, and—“

“And?” Rowan’s tone was surprised, his eyebrows raised. “He insulted your charity work, and there’s more?”

Aelin groaned with her head in her hands, then focused back on Rowan. “We decided to take a break, and two days later Chaol’s ex told me he’d been hitting on her for a week.”

“Guilty of attempted cheating. He’s a piece of shit.” Rowan leaned closer to her. “And if you want, I can, you know…” he sneaked a look at Chaol's way and cracked his knuckles.

“No need, but thanks.” Aelin squeezed his forearm, a laugh almost bursting out of her. “I’m flattered, though.”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t being serious.”

“I doubt that.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “But you can be serious about dancing with me.”

Rowan’s face was starting to twist into a grimace when he stopped and looked at where her hand touched his skin. When he looked back up, something in his eyes had shifted.

He turned his palm up, held her wrist, pulled her close and whispered to her ear, “His friends are watching us, wanna give them something to look at?”

“We should make out.” Aelin licked her lips, taking his ravenous eyes in. “In the name of torturing exes, that is.”

Before she knew it, Rowan took her mouth as if he owned it.

He held her face and neck with both hands, and their languorous kiss turned into something much more fervent when he got up and pressed her against the bar counter.

She burned from the inside out with every flick of his tongue, Rowan luring her into a passionate haze where there was nothing but restless hands, his pine-scented cologne and broad shoulders blocking her from the outside world.

Someone cleared their throat behind Aelin, making them break their kiss. On the other side of the counter, the bartender was watching them with a bored look.

“Do you mind moving over to another place? This area is for ordering drinks.”

They gave him a quick apology and Rowan led her to another part of the bar.

“I can’t see your ex anymore,” he said, looking around while they explored the place. “but his friends are still here.”

Aelin smiled. She hoped she’d pissed Chaol off enough to leave.

“You know what’ll make him go berserk?” Rowan asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll do it.”

“If we get out of here together,” he whispered in her ear.

“Fuck, yeah.” Aelin said in a husky tone, her breath heavy as she wrapped her arms around him. “And we should go to my place. My front-door neighbor’s girlfriend’s best friend babysits his little brother.”

Rowan’s parted lips slowly morphed into a smirk. “We can’t lose that opportunity, right?”

“Absolutely not.” Aelin ran her fingers through his hair. “And I think we could do that some other time too. Just for reinforcement.”

Aelin would say she won the breakup, but she barely remembered it as Rowan pulled her face to his again.

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[lnnlove]

you're not replaceable either | elriel

part two to my Elriel week 2023 piece (this might make little sense unless you read part one)

Summary: Az discovers Elain sleepwalking, and notices more about her than he did the night she found him outside the townhouse. A very emotional (post ACOSF) conversation ensues. I love angst! (I personally hope their book is full of angst and mutual pining for like the first third of it) Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Weight loss due to depression/not eating, skipping meals. Author's Note: Basically all I think about is how the first post ACOSF conversation will go between these two in Elain's book so that's where this was born! I bounce back and forth between who will start the conversation/who will say I love you first. I mostly think Az will have to initiate the conversation first because Elain will be so hurt from the rejection. In my Elriel week piece, Elain does most of the talking, but this is what I imagine Az might say. Enjoy! <3

She calls for you, his shadow whispers, curling around his ear as he struggles to focus on the papers in front of him. It seems he hasn't been able to focus on anything since returning home and seeing Elain days ago.

Sleep walking, it continues, she is restless. It doesn't have to elaborate, of course he knows who it speaks of. Elain. He tries to ignore it, the tugging feeling in his gut telling him to go.

She is calling for you, it repeats, asleep in the ivy.

"Asleep in the ivy? Outside?" Azriel asks out loud. It must mean the ivy sprawling the side of the River Manor. She's been staying there to prepare for Starfall festivities. It adorns the siding of the house and cascades into a bed below.

She wanders when she dreams.

"Has this happened before?" he asks his shadow.

Yes, she always wakes up alone and confused.

Gods, it's cold tonight. He can't possibly let her stay there. If he were to be caught by Rhys then he'd have that as a cover at least.

Azriel stands from his desk at the House of Wind quickly and rushes to the door. He's in the sky in seconds, flying as fast as he can towards Rhys and Feyre's home.

When he lands, it's quiet. He makes his way towards the ivy silently, so he doesn't wake the sleeping beauty in front of him.

He goes still when he hears it.

"Azriel," she breathes.

He's frozen in place. That's all she says, just his name. Slipping from her lips as she exhales in her sleep.

"Azriel," she whispers again, snapping him back into the moment.

He walks the rest of the way to her, bending at his knees. He looks at her for a moment, wanting to savor the image of her sleeping in her garden for a little while longer. Azriel grabs Elain's arms and drapes them over his shoulders as he braces under her back. He slides his other arm beneath her knees and stands.

Her breathing remains steady, unflinching, as he carefully walks her towards the house.

Azriel chokes on disgust with himself as he notes that she is lighter than the last time he had the privilege of carrying her. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes on the night she found him outside the townhouse, but not the way her bones feel more pronounced as he holds her against him. All of the progress she made lost. This is because of him.

“Azriel?” Elain mutters. Azriel stops and looks down at her. Still fast asleep.

“Yes darling?"

“I’m dreaming aren’t I?”

He hesitates. Should he say no? Should he wake her and tell her the truth?

You are to stay away from her, Rhys's words echo in his mind. He exhales his breath and closes his eyes, steeling himself against his wishes and continues walking.

“Yes Elain, just a dream.”

“Good, I can do this in my dreams.”

He almost missed it, the quiet words that slipped from her lips. He stops in confusion, just in time to feel Elain's arms tighten around his neck to lift herself to his level. Azriel is frozen in shock as Elain presses her lips to his. Azriel stands utterly still, eyes wide in disbelief as Elain kisses him.

It's a soft thing, barely there, as if she's scared he would not reciprocate. Her lips just barely brush against his, not enough for him to taste her exactly the way he'd always wanted to but enough for him to feel the plushness he always imagined they'd hold, for the blood to drain from his brain and his breath to be knocked from his lungs.

He should stop it of course. It's unfair to her. It's not the first kiss from him that she deserves. Not to mention his High Lord's order.

But it is happening. It's the first kiss they're having. Right now. So he closes his eyes, abandons his inhibitions, and kisses her back. He holds her tighter to him and deepens the kiss with his own lips, moving along hers until they open and she inhales a breath before returning to his waiting mouth.

He will never be the same. He is forever changed. This can't be all they ever are. He will do whatever it takes.

Elain pulls away with a sigh and drops back into Azriel's hold, still sleeping. Azriel can't believe a lot about the last few minutes, but of the most surprising details is that she hasn't woken up. She won't remember this tomorrow.

She sleeps deeply when she finally finds sleep, his shadow whispers.

Azriel cringes at the thought of her lying awake, unable to find peace. It upsets him worse to think he is probably the cause. He shouldn't have accepted that kiss. He doesn't deserve it.

Elain is quiet as he carries her inside and up the staircase, floating on silent steps through the house to the room he knows is hers. Azriel turns to push the door open with his back and lays Elain in the sheets that she left earlier in the night, still sweet with her jasmine scent. It overwhelms him.

Azriel draws his arms out from underneath her, noting the way her eyebrows knit together as they lose their physical connection. He feels the same disappointment.

"I must fix this," he whispers, vowing to himself as he gazes upon her too thin sleeping form.

Azriel watches her breath rise and fall for one more second before turning from her bed and leaving the room.

Elain woke the next morning with an unexplained crick in her neck and a few leaves in her hair that confused her. But what confused her most was the lingering scent of cedar on her skin. She could have sworn her lips tingled from activity but decided she must have just had an interesting dream. But she can’t shake the feeling that something fundamental changed about her last night.

She bathed and dressed as she normally did. Judging by the sun, she was still up before the rest of the house even though it was later than she usually slept these days.

She was just finishing the braid in her hair as she walked towards the kitchen when she spotted him. She froze, considered turning around, but it was too late, he'd already seen her.

Elain stills in the doorway to the kitchen, unsure how to speak to him. They hadn't seen each other since their unexpected meeting days ago. She thought that might be all she saw of him for months again. She wasn't even sure that he was still in Velaris.

Azriel looks up to see Elain and he's immediately reminded of the way her lips felt against his last night. He hadn't slept a second since then. He paced around outside for hours before coming to pace around inside, then finally making his way to the kitchen and making himself a cup of tea while Elain slept upstairs. But one thing all of the pacing helped him decide was certain. He couldn't stay away from her. Even if she doesn't wish to be with him when she is awake, he had to see her get better at the very least. Rhys can damn him if he wishes.

She is wearing a dress that hasn't fit her since her first months in Prythian, when she was despondent, a shell of the female he came to know. How he hates that dress.

He wants feels her lips again. He wants to put his hands on her delicate face and kiss her with the truth dancing on his tongue. He wants to feed her until she regains the fullness she once had on her limbs, until her hips become rounded again and her collarbones less profound. Then burn that dress because she'll never need it again.

“Hello,” Azriel greets her calmly, showing remarkable restraint.

“Hello,” she answers, “you are still here.”

It's surprise he's still there that he picks up on in her tone, not dismay or vexation as he would have previously expected.

She doesn't remember, a shadow whispers into his ear.

“Yes,” he replies politely, “for the celebrations. Rhys insisted I stay home for Starfall. Feyre says she has missed me.”

“Yes,” Elain responds, attempting to reply the best she could as she struggles to find her breath. She did not expect to be alone again with him so soon after the townhouse. “Your absence is always so noticeable.”

Something aches in Azriel's chest at the words. He always assumes his absence is never felt. He can't imagine her missing him after the way he left her on Solstice and abandonment since. He is not sure how to respond, letting silence falls between them.

“Are you well?” Elain asks him, and he says a silent thank you for saving the conversation with such a gracious question.

“Yes,” he lies. Azriel notices they have not looked away from each other since she appeared in the doorway.

“Apart from not sleeping?”

Azriel chuckles, “How can you tell?”

Elain offers him a small smile as she gestures to her eyes, telling him she sees the darkness under his.

“Ah yes, how could I forget how observant you are?” Azriel muses.

Elain’s smile falls and Azriel realizes it was the wrong thing to say - pointing out how long he’s been away. How they’ve grown apart. Why they’ve grown apart.

“Am I in your way?” he hurries to ask, changing the subject when he notices that she has yet to enter the kitchen.

“No, of course not,” she answers. Still such a gentleman, Elain thinks to herself as ahe cautiously enters the kitchen and begins her morning routine.

Silence falls between them again as she fills the tea kettle with water to heat and gathers ingredients for the breakfast she is making for the family.

“I have missed being here as well,” Azriel breaks the silence. “Missed seeing Nyx grow and everyone’s laughter.” He pauses, unsure if he should continue. Fuck it. She needs to know, he thinks. “I have missed you.”

Elain turns from where she's working to face him, bracing her arms on the countertop behind her to keep her upright.

“You have?” utter surprise lines her features. This is far more words than she expected to be hearing from him upon his return. And far different words than she was expecting as well.

“You are surprised?” Azriel questions her from his seat, head tilted slightly in confusion. Of course he missed her, does she think his feelings have changed?

“Well…” she exhales her breath, “yes.”

“Why are you surprised, Elain?” Az asks gently, setting his papers aside and scooting his seat out, readying himself to stand at any moment.

“I thought…" Elain struggles, "because you said that… that it was a mistake,” she chokes out, her head dipping as her eyes fall to the ground in front of her.

Azriel would have rather been stabbed in the chest. Would have rather the wound in his abdomen that she healed just a few nights ago be ripped back open. It would have hurt less than hearing those words fall from her lips, as if she’s thought of them every day since like he has. Confirming his worst fear that the words he regrets the most have haunted her.

Azriel stands and takes a step closer to her. He knew this would come eventually, he just hadn’t been prepared for it to be today. He tries to dull the warmth in his chest as he realizes she did not take a step away from him.

“Elain no…” he begins. “I should never have said that,” he shakes his head, trying to meet her eyes. He cranes his neck to the side to see if she’ll look at him. “Your company is never a mistake.”

Her head remains dropped towards the floor, her gaze fallen, as if she doesn't believe him.

“I thought,” she whispers, “that you wouldn’t want to see me. Wouldn’t want to be near me after I came on to you so strongly and put you in such a position. I'm sorry for how I misunderstood you and made you uncomfortable. I was so selfish.” A tear slips from her eye and Azriel's heart breaks.

“No Elain, please listen,” he carefully approaches her, tilting her chin with his thumb and forefinger to meet his gaze. “The fault is all mine. It pains me to think you’ve felt this way when you did absolutely nothing wrong.” He can't believe these are the things she's been telling herself.

“You’ve been away because I’m still here. Your family has had to suffer not seeing you because of me.”

Is that what she believes? he thinks. However correct in a sense, it is not in the way she thinks.

“No," Azriel whispers, shaking his head in disbelief. He gently grabs her too thin wrists and internally winces at the size of them. He moves his hands down until they are cradling her own. She's trembling. Touching her at all is a risk. He's not sure he'll be able to stop. He didn't think himself capable of the restraint he is demonstrating right now. He wishes he could kiss every tear that falls from her eyes away. He wishes he could kiss her until she forgets about anything other than how devoted he is to her. "I can't explain fully, but it was an unrelated mission, I swear it. Believe me.”

She silently nods, dropping her eyes from his once again.

“I would have gone somewhere else if it meant you’d come home.”

“You belong here, Elain."

Her eyes lift back to his at his words.

“As do you, Azriel."

There is a silent pause as they stare at each other, unsure how much of what they have kept guarded that they should reveal to one another. Azriel has always had a silent way of getting her to open up. She has missed that.

“I thought about it," Elain states shyly, closing her eyes.

“About what?”

“Going somewhere else.”

“And where would you go?”

“Wherever he wanted.”

“He?” Azriel questions, fighting the panic rising from his gut. Elain opens her eyes.

“Lucien. If I accepted the bond.”

Azriel stares in silence, his eyes dancing from one of hers to the other. No, no, no. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. Did he push her to that? Did he make her feel like that was her only choice?

Did she stun him into silence? Elain wonders. She can’t believe how much conversation they’ve exchanged in just a few minutes. It’s as if he saves all of the words he doesn’t speak to others just for her. She longs to hear more. She longs to feel his hands in places other than holding hers. She wants more.

“I know everyone wishes me to.”

“No, Elain. not everyone.”

Something scares her about the tone with which he said that. She is not sure how to respond. Will he say that he does not wish her to?

“You should only accept it if it’s what you truly want for yourself. Not for anybody else. Not for what anyone expects of you.”

“It isn’t…. what I want. It will never be,” Elain firmly states. How many people does she have to convince?

Azriel lets out a long winded exhale.

“And he will live. Lucien is a reasonable male. I believe he will remain our ally even after," Azriel assures her.

Elain turns her head away from him, as if looking at him for too long hurts. Azriel understands that pain. But she nods. Maybe she believes him.

Maybe he can stay long enough to make her believe him.

“I am glad you are home,” she whispers. “Will you stay?”

“I hope so. At least for a while. There's something I need to do.”

Elain nods, not knowing that making sure she is okay is the thing that Azriel needs to do. She gently removes her hands from his grasp and Azriel realizes he was holding them all that time. He takes that as his sign to return to his seat.

Elain resumes her work on the breakfast hash for the household and they return to comfortable silence. Azriel pretends to review his papers while he secretly watches her move about the kitchen. Elain leaves their family's breakfast in a warming dish and places homemade scones by the kettle full of coffee before grabbing her own cup of tea and attempting to leave before Azriel notices that she didn't eat.

“Elain?” he calls after her.

“Yes?” she answers, turning to catch his hazel stare.

“Just a few nights ago, you screamed at me for treating myself as expendable.”

She stares blankly, unsure of where he is going with this.

“You must care for yourself as well as you care for the others. For all of us. You are not replaceable either, dear Elain.”

Her eyes widen with surprise, searching his for an explanation to his words.

“I am quite observant too,” he says.

I see you, his eyes seem to tell her. They may not notice, but I do.

She should feel embarrassed shouldn't she? To be so transparent. To have someone look at her and see it all, all of the secrets that she thought she'd been keeping so well.

But she is not embarrassed at all. She feels something awakening in her again that she thought she would never feel again.

Should she ask him? she wonders. He seems to be reaching out his hand. He seems to be enjoying her company again. Perhaps all is not lost.

“Would.." she begins, trying to find her voice again after being seen so thoroughly by him. "Would you like me to show you the gardens?” she asks.

"I would," Azriel smiles, standing from his seat once again and waiting for her to lead them out the door.

[neo-my-geo]

HELLO THERE THIS ASK IS ENABLING YOU TO RAMBLE ABOUT THE DND AU!!!! AA!!!!

Thank you for this wonderful Christmas present, anon! I would love nothing more!

Time for some rapid fire random fun facts about the gang!

1. Scout

- Most of his brothers are full orcs, and the ones that aren't are half-goliath. He's a hard-core runt of the litter.

- He lost his foot after cussing out an incredibly powerful warlock and getting cursed. No healing magic could bring it back, so Dell took it as an opportunity to practice his prosthetics!

- He makes his Bonk himself. It is not sanctioned by the church.

- Scoutma is an orc paladin, and Scout loves her very much.

2. Jane Doe/Merasmus

- The inside of his tome shares an uncanny resemblance with Merasmus' apartment. Merasmus exclusively experiences the world through hearing what Jane says, so he's usually about 40% sure he knows what's going on. Jane can enter and exit at will, but Merasmus is bound to it.

- Going by how Jane describes him, Merasmus is about 89% sure Spy is a raccoon. He keeps a tally chart.

- Jane likes to boost his jumps by pointing his tome directly downward and casting fireball. Yes, this goes about as well as you'd expect.

- When Jane casts a spell with his tome, it's actually Merasmus firing it out of the window of the apartment into the void. They find their way out in around 2-6 seconds.

3. Pyro

- Pyro is often regarded as one of the most powerful sorcerers in the area; the only reason he isn't brought on every mission is because he doesn't use a lot of discretion when casting evocation spells.

- He has attempted (and nearly succeeded) to usurp a red dragon and their hoard before. The only reason he failed was because he had to go home for dinner.

- Dell is his favourite teammate by a long shot and he doesn't usually bother hiding it. He likes his cooking.

4. Heavy

- That is his legal name. He cracked a floor tile when he was born.

- Don't mistake his lack of a weapon for a lack of skill. He doesn't use a sword because he doesn't need to.

- Heavy worships the art of battle, and hasn't quite found a god that exemplifies it to his standards. A handful of dwarven gods have been fighting to have him as their warrior for the last hundred or so years.

5. Ta'Vish "Tafish" Degroot

- It's pronounced 'tah-vish.'

- He's a bit vain about his appearance and takes the longest of anyone to get ready in the morning.

- While he will usually be the first of the group to suggest talking things out over instant aggression, he will shift tracks entirely the second a firebomb is placed in his hands. That's the point of no return.

- Merasmus is still the reason he lost his eye. It was turned into a beholder that stalks the group from a distance and tries to attack them every few weeks, but it's no match for a group with a vampire, dragon(?), and legend-worthy paladin.

6. Dell

- He's the backbone of the guild, other than Pauling. He's very very good at making magically-infused inventions, including his own and Scout's prosthetics.

- His cannons are named Byron, Barnham, Bowie, and Odessa. They each fill their own niche, and Dell loves them all like they're his children.

- Byron is a wild card that will fire at anything he's pointing at. He's great at clearing a room.

- Barnham fires small healing pulses. They aren't a replacement for an actual healer, but they feel a hell of a lot better than being in death saves.

- Bowie is a flamethrower, incredibly patient, and great at standing guard in front of dungeons. He's Pyro and Sniper's favourite.

- Odessa is the largest, oldest, and packs the biggest punch, but she also takes much longer between shots than the others. She likes taking naps by the fireplace.

- Dell invented a self-moving wagon to get the party around. It's called the Subaru (no relation).

7. Dr. Ludwig/Archimedes

- He recently escaped being trapped in a pocket dimension for several hundred years, so he's still getting used to current society. He met another, absurdly dickish vampire while he was there, but he ditched him on his way out.

- He and Heavy are tied as the best hand-to-hand fighters in the guild. Point the two of them at a target and rest assured they'll be reduced to a fine red mist. Just maybe don't send them on bureaucratic missions.

- Whenever the beholder attempts to ambush them at night, Ludwig is happy to fight it off on his own. He sees it as a fun challenge.

- Archimedes is a lich, and Ludwig is his lair.

8. Sniper

- He's BLU, has 125 hit points, and an average walking speed. His loadout is stock, other than swapping his vest for a cloak.

- He still has his rifle, but he uses it sparingly because Dell is still working on mass-producing .30 caliber rounds. He's been aching for his huntsman ever since crossing over.

- He's still getting used to all of this, so be nice to him ok?

9. The Spy

- Yes, he includes the prefix when he introduces himself.

- Being both a soulknife and a changeling, his abilities include telepathy, shape-shifting (as long as it's into a medium-sized biped), invisibility, and the ability to summon knives with his mind.

- He dumped CON, so a light breeze can knock him over.

- Thieves' Cant is his first language, and it sounds suspiciously similar to Parisian French.

Thank you very very kindly to @pinapin for letting me use your sketches because I'm stuck away from my computer! Everyone say thank you pinapin

[spotsandsocks]

Good Knight Sweet Prince - Update chapter 13 (7.9k)

Read from the start

At sixteen Prince Evan’s life becomes entangled with a young man who wants to be a Knight. Their friendship grows and changes over the years, as they’re separated and reunited over time and eventually they find out what they really mean to each other, but a Knight and Prince have very different destinies how can they ever be together?

Prince Evan is almost 16 years old when he meets the love of his life for the first time, of course  he doesn’t know that and won’t really understand fully for another decade. What he does know is he’s extremely annoyed by the news a new squire is due to arrive. Apparently to train him. The insult sets his teeth on edge and makes his blood boil. He doesn’t need a babysitter or a teacher.

Chapter 13 snippet under the cut

Eddie watches Christopher rearrange his books on the shelf in his room. His son is trying to decide if they should be sorted by size, colour or content. The sudden influx of reading material has been overwhelming him, although he’s obviously thrilled to be the proud owner of seven new books.

Eddie’s feelings when he looks at the content of Christopher’s new library are complicated to say the least. All his feelings are complicated these days. He’d like to say he’s found  some balance in the last four weeks, that he’s  moving on from the heartbreak but it’s not true. It hadn’t been true when he’d set out to meet the Prince  all those weeks ago and it’s certainly not true today. Even if he managed to avoid Prince Evan all day he doesn’t think he’ll be able to avoid him much longer. 

“Dad?” Chris calls over his shoulder “I think colours looks best, what do you think?”

He moves from the doorway to stand by his side. “I think it looks great.”

Chris turns and there’s a certain look on his face that warns Eddie just before his son says coldly with narrowed eyes “Maybe I should ask Buck.” 

The last word is pronounced very clearly. Eddie’s heart thuds. So he knows then. 

Chris looks up at him and confirms just that .

“I heard.” Chris doesn’t sound very impressed with his father's lack of sharing, “Liza and Mateo both told me the Prince is here. They say he arrived yesterday evening .” 

The accusation in Christopher’s voice is clear and makes Eddie shift uncomfortably.

“He’s resting after his trip.” It sounds weak to his own ears and Christopher just stares. Eddie feels more like the child than the adult under Chris' steady gaze, “I was going to tell you.”

He was, he just hadn’t been able to put Buck’s name on his lips. 

“Doesn’t he want to see me again?” Now Chris looks worried and Eddie instantly feels like the worst father ever.

“Oh course he does. I expect he’s asking Sir Bobby about you right now, demanding an audience with Nash Keep's most important resident!” He tries to inject some lightness into the conversation, horribly aware how much of that has been missing since they got home.

Chris still looks unimpressed and gets right to the point, “Have you seen him?”

Eddie can’t meet his son's eyes as he shakes his head. “Not really.”

“Why? I thought you were friends.”

Friends. The word is such an innocent one. Eddie’s not sure if friends is what they were or are or can be again. He wants nothing more than to go to Buck, see him, talk with him, he’d be happy with just that, he aches for it, hasn’t stopped aching since he slipped out of the soft warmth of Buck's  bed and wrote three wretched words that he left on a pillow.

[theintrovertbean]

WHAT IF what if Nadia cheated on the mc

BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING o know you don't see it happening but it ain't cost nothing to ask

But she was super mega drunk because of the stress of being a countess and she haven't seen mc lately so she got too drunky yk

She was black out drunk she just woke up with that person in bed and was like 😦

Anyyyways

I know it depends on the mc and and all but I'd like to know what you think about it like if the mc forgives her or what if they break up

-🦭

Oooooo that means drinking a shit ton of alcohol because Nadia definitely built up a huge tolerance during her first marriage.

Also, it seems like drunk af Nadia might do stupid stuff? Like, Nadia married Lucio when she was hella drunk, and I don't think she would have done it if she was sober. So, maybe, just maybe, this Nadia cheating on MC thing would be possible. If she had a crazy amount of alcohol, of course.

Idk if any of you have read/watched The Scarlet Letter. I've recently read the very beginning of the novel for a literature class, and it gave me an idea. So, in that novel, Hester (I feel weird because my name is pronounced similarly) had the letter "A" on her chest because she committed adultery. Well, let's just say, this character feels quite the opposite of how Nadia would. I don't want to spoil anything. Still, I think Nadia would feel like she has "adulteress" written all over her skin.

Anyway, let's get into it now. I wrote a whole oneshot, not headcanons like I usually do. This isn't what I had planned, but I do like how it turned out, and I hope that you will too.

Thank you for the request, Anon! It was so much fun to write!

The Pain Behind Her Eyes (Cheater Nadia x MC)

The whole night was a blur, and the raging headache made Nadia groan in pain. When she moved her arm, she felt someone beside her. The Countess thought that maybe her beloved MC came home while she was having fun with a few bottles of wine, and then they somehow ended up in bed, which would explain the absence of her sleepwear.

What a wonderful night it must have been. It's such a pity that she couldn't remember any of it, but finally, she could be in her lover's arms. She spent the last few weeks with the apprentice constantly on her mind, and she often found herself thinking of more lustful images. 

The Countess would often lay awake at night, thinking of her beloved. Their sweet smile that made Nadia's heart melt. Their laugh that could light up her heart even in her deepest sadness. And their body, their gorgeous, desirable body that Nadia so often wanted. 

But when Nadia tried to touch the person next to her, they didn't quite feel right. Perhaps MC changed their skincare routine while they were away. Either way, it was time for the Countess to open her eyes and finally take a good look at her beloved. 

The most horrible sight awaited her. The initial happiness immediately faded away as she glanced at the stranger tangled in her sheets. She hurriedly grabbed her blanket, pulled it up, and covered her body with it, desperately clutching it against her pounding chest. It stirred the stranger awake, and when they attempted to kiss her, she pulled away and got out of bed while still covering herself. Nadia couldn't look at them. Not without disgust.

Nadia wasn't disgusted by the stranger, no. It was her own body and actions that made her feel such a terrible way. She hurriedly sent the stranger away, but not without making sure they wouldn't tell anyone.

The Countess felt like she was going to throw up. How could she do something so horrible? The filth of the previous night was still lingering on her body, in her bed, in their shared bed. She felt so dirty. She wanted to tear off her skin, but even that wouldn't rid her of the shame and her mistake.

With the blanket still around her naked form, Nadia collapsed onto the floor, the sorrow drowning her heart as she cried.

How? Why? She couldn't understand. MC gave her all their love, and they trusted them. Why did she have to do this to them? Even in her drunken state, how could she betray the person she had sworn to love? 

The servants all noticed. They didn't know what she did, even though Nadia always felt like they knew. The Countess' staff saw that she was deeply troubled, and they all whispered among themselves that their mistress must be terribly missing her MC. 

She was. She really was. 

But she was also dreading the day of their arrival.

MC came too soon because Nadia wished to bury herself in her sin forever. And too late because this might not have happened if they had come home earlier.

The moment MC entered the room, they wore a smile on their face. They walked to the Countess with open arms and wrapped her in a hug filled with love. MC pulled back just enough to look at Nadia's face and saw there was pain behind her eyes. "Are you alright?"

She reassured them with a forced smile, "I am fine, my love." But even a fool could see past her lie. Still, MC didn't force her to tell the truth. If Nadia wanted to tell them, they knew that she would. 

An adulteress. That is what you are. Nadia couldn't stop these thoughts from haunting her mind. And the way MC looked at her. She felt as if she had her sin engraved into her skin, and Nadia was desperate to get rid of the burden. 

She knew that she had to tell them.

So she did. Nadia told MC that one night she had too much to drink. She couldn't remember how much she had or how it happened and as the story progressed, Nadia saw all emotions leaving MC. With their body shaking, the apprentice took a step back, keeping their distance from the cheating Countess.

"You cheated on me," MC whispered. Nadia didn't have to tell them the whole story. The look in her eyes gave it away. 

"I'm so sorry, my love," The Countess said as tears began to roll down her face. "I'm so sorry, MC. I was drunk, and I didn't know what I was doing. It was a mistake! Please, forgive me!" She sounded so weak, desperately sobbing, as she got down on her knees and grasped onto MC's hand. "MC, please!"

But MC pulled away. Shaking and with their own voice giving up, they let go of Nadia's hand. "I need to go." 

They were hurt. Of course, they were, and Nadia couldn't blame them. She didn't expect this conversation to go any better. But it was a stupid mistake. Nadia never wanted it to happen, and MC knew that too. She hoped for their forgiveness, but in her heart, Nadia knew that what she did was unforgivable.

When Nadia lost MC, she lost everything.

Her days no longer contained any joy. Each night she went to sleep, she did it knowing she would lie in the bed of her sin. And each time she woke up, her heart ached because of the reminder of that cursed morning. 

Her bed was her grave, and she was being buried alive. 

She often woke up in cold sweat, troubled by frequent nightmares that made sure she would never forget what she had done. The staff also asked her why MC was no longer in the palace, but Nadia couldn't bring herself to tell them the truth. 

One lonely afternoon, the Countess was getting some fresh air on her balcony. Being inside the palace suffocated her, and she often found herself longing to spend time outdoors. Nadia was leaning over the railing, her eyes gazing at the garden that she once happily walked with MC. She would never find love like that again in anyone else. 

She sighed to herself. The loneliness was consuming her. She felt like a fool for hoping that MC would forgive her. But, at least she had known how love felt like, even if only for a while. 

There was another sigh, but not Nadia's. Perhaps an assassin had come to plunge a dagger into her heart and rid her of the pain. She turned around, expecting a scared servant waiting for their mistress to give them a crumb of attention. 

But it was MC, looking at her with the same expression as when she told them of her crime. 

"Do you love me?" MC murmured under their breath, and perhaps it was only the wind that carried their voice to Nadia's ears so that she could hear it. 

"With all my heart," Nadia answered while anxiously clutching her dress.

Neither of them said anything else. For a moment, they both just stood there. Nadia could see that MC was battling their own thoughts and emotions while they stared intensely into her eyes. Whatever they were to do, Nadia would accept it.

Then MC moved, storming towards the Countess, and before she knew it, the apprentice had her in their arms, nails digging into her back, promising to never let go of each other ever again. 

[scripted-pleasures]

Fourth Wing Review

1.5-2/5 stars

I would like to thank everything for giving me the strength to finish this book. It took less than a week and 14.5 pages of notes but we're done! To put it bluntly, this book was bad. Like, garbage. After talking about it for a while I get so angry that I lose the ability to form rational thought anymore. Anyways, I hope this is entertaining and/or informative! This will be hidden cuz it's a long one!

I would like to start off by saying that even though I don’t agree with the general rating of the book, I can say that I see how people enjoy this book. If this is a first fantasy book for someone, it makes an ok low barrier to entry for the genre. I think this would be mid-fantasy? I will say I wasn’t a fan of the romance, even if Yarros took her time and saved the Big Bang for way too late in the book to try to ‘flesh out’ the connection. (Spoiler alert: it was wack). For better or worse, I’m a lore person so in terms of a meaningful story with solid characters, plot, and setting, it’s no more than a 2. I do have to give credit where it’s due, and there were some parts that I enjoyed (mainly Tairn) and if I wasn’t going into this so critically, I’d give this a solid 3. The story is fine, though it is full of contradictions and weird sentences that are hard to ignore even if I was reading for fun. Violet was more interesting at the beginning of the book and things got kind of jumbled together toward the middle whenever the focus wasn’t on how horny Violet was for Xaden. The flying scenes were fun when they were actually written out. As for characters, Tarin is the best by far, no competition. I know that was bland but that’s how I felt if you wanted a short review if I was reading for fun. Honestly, this book is nothing to write home about.

 Though, I am home, and I will be writing about it, so here’s the full 2 star (more like 1.5) review:

A major non-in universe problem with this book is the use of Scottish Gaelic words/names that are being bastardized. The name of the college, dragons, and some characters’ last names use Scottish Gaelic that, as confirmed by Yarros, are not pronounced properly and are instead pronounced however she finds easiest. There are wonderful creators on TikTok that have read the book and know of/speak Scottish Gaelic that air their own grievance on her use of the language and are a wonderful source of how to properly pronounce the names/words in the book. I urge all who read this to check them out.

Anyways.

I absolutely love the fact that Yarros is actively not following the rules that she set up! 

The earliest show of this is on page 21 where there’s a quote from ‘Major Afrenda’s Guide to the Riders Quadrant’ that says “there’s a misconception that it’s kill or be killed in the Quadrant unless there’s a dragon shortage or a cadet is a liability”. A similar rule is found on page 27 where the Codex states that ‘it’s unlawful for a rider to cause another harm.’ Both of these rules are broken literally on the Parapet where Jack, an antagonist, throws someone into the ravine below and suffered no consequences. Jack also killed someone in training for funsies and nothing came of that either. Most importantly, there isn’t a shortage of dragons, there’s too many riders. The school says rider candidates volunteer yet make no moves to control the amount of applicants when they know the amount of dragons willing to bond in advance.

There was the rule that states cadets with rebel relics can’t be in groups of 3 or more, otherwise it’ll be seen as a capital offense (pg 77) though Xaden tells the group to travel in 3s

On pages 159, Violet was surprised that Jack knew information about feathertails and wondered where he got the information despite spewing the same information earlier in the book

Violet wanted to get Jack angry so that he makes mistakes in the match (pg 293) despite this plan backfiring on her against Imogen earlier in the book

On page 356, Violet is given her saddle and says “When did I ever give you the impression that I give a fuck what people think of me?” even though the page before she was bemoaning how people are going to know that she can’t keep her seat (despite her falling a dozen times every lesson)

Minor thing, but on page 475 Violet is trying to keep Liam on Taiwan’s back even though her shoulder got messed up earlier in the fight though that wasn’t brought up again

Okay, this isn’t a specific pinpoint but it looks like Bás Giath is the military, college, the national archives, and also the church….? That’s not very clear which is a problem

Other than the inconsistencies, Yarros has a bad habit of telling, not showing and even not writing or acknowledging whole scenes. This is shown on page 310 where Sgaeyl, Tairn, and Andarna are supposed to train together with Violet and Xaden. At this point we had seen Tairn and Xaden interact, Violet/Tairn/Andarna, and a wee bit of Xaden and Sgaeyl but not Violet and Sgaeyl or Xaden and Andarna, let alone all of them together. This lost scene along with the majority of the Squad Battle on the next page, mind you misses an incredible amount of character interaction and growth that this book desperately needs. This story also lacks depth in any place outside of Bás Giath/Violet which can be seen in the beginning and toward the end. The furthest back this story goes is 5 years when the Sorrengails moved to Bás Giath and there’s no mention of their life before that. Like, even a little bit. Toward the end when Mira, Violet, and Rhinonnan go to Rhi’s village, the interaction with the family is completely cut out, focusing only on a conversation between the Sorrengails. We do get to see that Rhinonnan has a nephew and that’s as far as the meeting of the main character’s ‘best friend’s’ family goes before they run into Xaden as soon as they step outside. Fantasy really isn’t the type of genre where things are secular if there’s no good reason for it for which this story has none. Quite literally nothing happens in this book and I have no idea how this story will stretch across 5 books. I had a Science Fair project once where the project was to watch paint dry in various conditions and that was somehow more interesting and full of substance than this book.

Extra tidbit: The fact that she wrote white guilt into this story, was willfully ignorant of the idea that an oppressed people would want to revolt and side with the ‘enemy’ (aka. The only people who are willing to stand up against their oppressors), and thinking that any sort of militaristic choices are made ‘for the good of the people’ while War College actively tries to kill the students fills me with so much rage. This book is huge on social media, meaning tons of people are being exposed to these views where the book says these are the morals of the characters you’re supposed to root for. Dangerous and irresponsible. There’s also the fact that Xaden and Rhinannon, both of whom are noted as darker/dark-skinned the whole book are hyper-sexualized, feeding into stereotypes, shows that Yarros and her editing team (if she has one), have never met anyone darker than a cafe-au-lait and it shows.

All in all, I rate this a 1.5-2 out of 5 stars. The only reason why I don’t rate this lower is because there were moments where I did have fun and there were flashes of what this could be. Had I not been reading this as critically as I was or read only fantasy/sci-fi books, I could see the appeal for this. Unfortunately, Yarros might give new readers the impression this is how fantasy, beginner or not, is supposed to be and that’s a disservice to the genre. I’m almost 100% sure Yarros has no plans for this story/universe because Fourth Wing can’t stand on its own, answers no questions, and brings no inquiries. I’m happy for the people who like this book, really, but this isn’t the best it can be and I hope you find actual literature after this.

[senjuushi]

Event Translation — Brand New Journey ~Italy Expedition Volume~

Episode 5: Pizzeria

Carcanore: Rocco! It’s been forever! 

Rocco: Welcome! I’m thankful we get to meet again! 

Marks: ...were these guys separated, or something?

Benetta: No, it’s only been since last week. Rocco is my relative.

Marks: Huh? They’re having an awfully emotional reunion over there. Hugging, even a kiss...? 

Marks: (Anyway, relative...? That Rocco guy is human, though.)

Cutlery: That’s called “baci”. It’s an Italian greeting. More like pressing cheeks together than a real kiss. 

Marks: Hmm... so that’s how it is. 

Rocco: Welcome in, everyone! If you’re my bros’ guests, then I can be nothing but my most hospitable! 

Rocco: As for the pizza... I hope there’s enough for everyone right now. Sit wherever you like, and have as much wine as you please! 

After a bit of a wait, steaming pizzas are brought out one after another.

Cutlery: S-So good...! 

Cutlery: The dough is thin and the crust is crispy enough to hear it crack, yet still moist and chewy... the cheese has a lovely aroma, and pairs perfectly with the tomatoes...! It’s completely different from the pizza I had in Belgium!!

Carcanore: Of course! Rocco’s pizza is a masterpiece.

Benetta: ...ahh, it’s the best... 

Benetta was chewing on a single slice of pizza as if he was eating something precious. However, instead of eating the crust, he was leaving it on Carcanore’s plate. 

Marks: Do you not eat the edges of your pizza?

Carcanore: No! You’re pronouncing it all wrong. And Benetta only accepts Neapolitan pizza, you see. 

Carcanore: When he tried the pizza in Germany... if it can even be called that, he was terribly disappointed. 

Benetta: When I passed by the shop the next day, it was completely destroyed. It seemed as if someone had “made them understand” that.

Carcanore: I suppose that kind person just couldn’t forgive anyone who’d made Benetta so upset! 

Carcanore & Benetta: Hahaha!

Cutlery: Wh-What...? You destroyed the shop just because the pizza tasted bad...?

Master: 

(These people— no, these Musketeers...)

(They’re total loose cannons...!)

Marks: ...hey, you two. 

Marks: I don’t know why you invited us here, but if you try to harm Master, I won’t forgive you either! 

Cutlery: Hey... Mar— ...Max!

Carcanore: Hahh... Guess we’ve been found out, after all. There’s no choice, then...

Marks stands up to protect (Player Name). There’s tension in the air, but—

Benetta: This was a bad choice of shop, then. Rocco is a villain, after all. 

Carcanore: Ahaha, there’s no mistake! 

Cutlery: ...what...?

Carcanore: Sorry for scaring you. No use hiding things now! 

Carcanore: I’m saying this because you’ve probably already figured it out, but... we’re part of the mafia, but we’re not human. ...we’re Noble Musketeers, the incarnations of guns. 

Carcanore: We don’t mind that we were summoned here, but we don’t have any friends who we can easily hang out with. That’s why the two of us play around like this. 

Carcanore: It’s fun anyway, but I wanted to try making a fuss with a large group of people too. You guys who didn’t know us seemed like the perfect playmates, so you got dragged into it. 

Carcanore: Sorry about that. You helped Bonito, but you ended up keeping us company. 

Cutlery: ...so, that’s how it is...

Carcanore: Please, let me come with you on your sightseeing trip! It’s just for today, so it’s fine, right?

Benetta: Your safety is guaranteed. In the name of the Bofonchio family...

(Player Name) remembers the information Russell had given them earlier; that the Bofonchio Family is one of the rising powers in this area, and that they’re a terrifying, formidable existence that even the World Union is struggling to deal with.

Marks: ...what do we do, Master? 

Master: 

(It might be dangerous to refuse)

(It’s a bad idea to intentionally rile them up)

Cutlery: I’ll follow (Player Name)’s judgment, but... I can understand what this guy’s talking about. 

Cutlery: I was lonely in Belgium too... I was so relieved when (Player Name) finally came... Because of that, I think it’s okay to spend time with him for just one day...

Master: 

...let’s try to get along

Just one day...!

Benetta: Grazie. How heartwarming. 

Benetta: For the trip... how about a route starting from the farthest sightseeing spot on this map, then heading back to the center of the city?

Carcanore: Great idea, Benetta! Bonito, turn the car around once you’re done eating, please.

Carcanore: Let’s have a benissimo day! 

[thefinalsnart]

SNART !!! did we lose the dgm wiki? thats just rude how will my adhd dgm ass surVIVE !!! anyways, i saw ur post and i am here to shARE some thors as the keyword dgm summoned me !!!! 🫡🧡 (also i just found the wiki. the just sont have reevers anymore? scoff!!!!)

ANYWAYS johnny with a southern accent that he kinda tries to shake off bcos he becomes so self conscious at the order !!! they tease him about the way he pronounces things but when he manages to hide his accent they all go "wait :( johnny what r u doing :(" and promptly apologize way too much, trying to compensate for making him feel bad. in truth, he didnt mask it bcos of their teasing, but simply bcos he was kinda alone w the accent and it bothered him personally JSJSJSJ

also reever is both head of the science division but his most important (important!!!! 😤) job is head of the spider-and-other-bugs extermination division! hes seen Some Shit in australia and is therefor rarely ever bothered by the silly little european bugs. he always lets them out with a glass and a paper and a nonchalant air that annoys everyone bcos that waS A GIANT SPIDER W EGGS MY DUDE! but he simply goes on w his day, arriving when called. lavi once called him bcos of a toad in the library, which no one ever lets him live down. lavi defends himself by saying he couldnt see what it was between the books, except that it was slimy and breathing! 🫡

i watch some tiktoks (</3) with this german couple about stereotypes of german people and i swear. half the time i just see link and giggle, kicking my feet. theyre so hilarious, its like 'going on a biking trip' and hes SO overly prepared with stuff and the partner wants to have nice chats while they bike in the scenery :) and he just goes 'i am trying to keep my speed and breathing steady. we can look at the scenery in silence' AND JUST. SKSKSKSK some of them doesnt fit him as well obviously, but its my main form of entertainment when i want to think of link in Situations. i think their handle is Liam Carpenter if tiktoks youe thing!!!!!!

i hope ur ride is bearable and thinking of dgm makes it worthwile !!!!! 🥰

- @alienaiver ✨

My heart skipped a beat that Reever’s wiki page was gone, but I was able to find it 🫡 he is still with us!! But it can be hell to find pages on fandom wikis sometimes if only I had the skills and knowledge to make an independent dgm wiki… life could be dream…

JOHNNY 😭 He is so sweet, I would cry if I heard him trying to hide his accent… I can see him with a Southern or Appalachian accent for sure, I’m thinking like. The voices Justin and Griffin McElroy do in The Adventure Zone: Amnesty.

Also I realized… I can just look up where people with the last name Gill are from in the US? It’s just a headcanon but I got curious and—

It seems before and close to the start of D Gray Man, most people in the US with the last name Gill were from the South! The data is agreeing with you, Johnny just might be a southern boy. 🤠 Thinking about it, his name does have a southern ring to it, it sounds right in the accent. I can also see Johnny saying things like “bless your heart,” or “over yonder,” “fixin.” Different southern slang. I think it fits.

SHDHSHSH REEVER IS ON CREEPY CRAWLIES DUTY 🫡 GOOD LUCK BROTHER!! But knowing Reever I think he’d be so sweet to those bugs… carefully cupping and releasing them… usually he’s nonchalant but once in a while he’ll be like “what a beauty,” like Steve Irwin and no one understands why because he’ll be holding a GINORMOUS SPIDER. I love him.

I ACTUALLY KNOW EXACTLY WHO YOUR TALKING ABOUT SHDHDHCHDH. I too watch Liam’s videos on occasion to put Link in the Situations in my head AHSHSHDHD. You’re right I don’t think all of em fit Link but it’s still so fun to watch and think about!

Apologies for answering this over a week later, but thank you for chatting with me about dgm Nohr !!! it is always the best 💕💖💕

[riverdamien]

A Surprise of Joy!

"Sloughing Towards Galilee!"

"A Surprise of Joy!"

Humble Lord, while people clamored for a warrior-king, the colt revealed your servanthood: as you face the way of tears, the tearing of the temple veil, take us from the baying mob to place our faith in you, Jesus Christ, our victim and our savior. Amen.

— Steven Shakespeare

Mark 11:1-11

When they were approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately as you enter it, you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden; untie it and bring it. If anyone says to you, ‘Why are you doing this?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it and will send it back here immediately.’” They went away and found a colt tied near a door, outside in the street. As they were untying it, some of the bystanders said to them, “What are you doing, untying the colt?” They told them what Jesus had said; and they allowed them to take it. Then they brought the colt to Jesus and threw their cloaks on it; and he sat on it. Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting,

“Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve."

------------------------------------------------------------

Late last night in the Park, standing on the corner of Golden Gate Park, with a group of seven homeless guys, I was pronouncing the words of consecration over the bread and wine, out of nowhere, three guys threw hot coffee in my face, and struck me, knocking me down, and struck me over and over saying: "Fake, f--ing--, priest, you are a fake Christian! I was hurt, bruised, in pain, and afraid, and one of the guys rode with me  in an ambulance to Kaiser, where I stayed until early this morning; hurt, in pain, and yet it woke me up to a reminder of God's call over the voices of letting what people say to me and the one thing I can never change is my place is with the homeless, the disenfranchised, and the words of Henri Nouwen rang true, my heart felt them as never before:

"Learn the discipline of being surprised not by suffering, but by joy.. There is suffering ahead of us, immense suffering, a suffering that will tempt us to think that we have suffered the wrong road. .But don't be surprised by the pain. Be surprised  by joy, be surprised by the little flower that shows its beauty in the midst of a barren desert, and be surprised by the immense healing power that keeps bursting forth like springs of fresh water from the depths of our pain."

There were two processions today, Pontius Pilate, with all the imperial theology of power, wealth, and comfort for those who support the state, and the procession of Jesus with the clear message he was with the peasants and his message--to love the least of these, to give of ourselves in walking with the poorest of the poor.

These two confrontations continued through the last week of his life and continue every day here and now. The Scriptures of Holy Week are not just words, but the reality of the call of Jesus to each of us to follow him!   I see his face in the young fentanyl addict on the corner of Polk and Sutter; I see his face in Junior, sitting on Haight in tears because the police had hauled his bus off and his girlfriend won't talk to him; I see his face Susan, who has failed for the sixth time in her housing program.

I am asked all the time, "How do you know Jesus is real?" and so on, and all I know is that there was a strange warming feeling in my heart that grabbed me at 12 years old, and now grabs me even closer, commanding me to walk to Galilee, to suffer if need be, but to look at him, and walk with the poorest of the poor. I have been grabbed even tighter as I choose to step forward, to do my best, and in the end to say like Dorthy Day: "I tried!" Deo Gratias! Thanks be to God!

=====================

(Temenos and Fr. River seek to remain accessible to everyone. We do not endorse particular causes, political parties, or candidates, or take part in public controversies, whether religious, political or social--Our pastoral ministry is to everyone!

---------------

Press Release:

"Jesus continues to be crucified in all those who are crucified in history...There are not enough Stations of the Cross to depict all the ways in which the  Lord continues to be persecuted, imprisoned, condemned to death and crucified today!"

-Leonardo Boff

What: Non-Violent Witness in the Tenderloin to commemorate Good Friday!

Tenderloin Stations of the Cross

“A Journey With People on the Street!”

“Our Haunted-ness!”

When:

March 29, 2024

Noon-2:00 p.m.

Meet in Front of Polk Street-Side City Hall

Why:

There are approximately 8, 000 people on the street, without housing, or health care, they suffer from prejudice, anger, and hatred; they are shuffled around as if they are "objects" rather than human beings.

As followers of Jesus, and all who care, living in a war-making and uncaring empire we say loudly and clearly with Jesus: "Love one Another," "Love your enemies", "Be merciful as God is merciful," "Put away the sword," and "Thou shalt not kill."

We witness as people of faith who believe in God's reign of justice, love, peace, and restorative justice!

Sponsored by Temenos Catholic Worker

For more information:

Fr. River Sims, D.Min., D.S.T.

415-305-2124

temenos@gmail.com

www.temenos.org

www.paypal.com

Day of (No) Silence 2024: Rise Up. Take Action.

History of Day of (No) Silence: Started in the mid 90’s by two college students, Day of Silence has expanded to reach hundreds of thousands of students each year. Every April, students would go through the school day without speaking, ending the day with Breaking the Silence rallies to bring attention to ways their schools and communities can become more inclusive.

2024 Day of (No) Silence: With more than 800 anti-LGBTQ+ bills introduced last year, we must Rise Up and Take Action. GLSEN’s Day of NO Silence is a nationally recognized student-led demonstration where LGBTQ+ students and allies all around the country—and the world— protest the harmful effects of harassment and discrimination of LGBTQ+ people in schools.

====================================

.n----------------------------

The Tenderloin Stations of the Cross is Friday, Noon-2:00 p.m. we need readers, please contact me at 415-305-2124. Otherwise simply come, walk the to Calvary!

[barbaraa1957]

Stupid fool

I wish for once in my life I would follow my gut. My gut has been telling for weeks that James was scamming me but I just wouldn't listen and now I am paying for it. I haven't heard from him in over 24 hours and I know he has ghosted me and the scam is done. At least I can be positive about that. It is over and he can't steal from me anymore. All of his reassurances were nothing but bullshit and I fell for it. How could I be so stupid. I should have taken it as foreshadowing when Sister Siobhan said to me: How can someone with a good Irish name be so stupid? She was right. I am stupid. What am I missing in my life that I allow myself to get scammed all the time. I will never be able to make up all of this money. Retirement will be a joke because I will be working for a long time now. I hate myself. I prayed last night that God would take me in my sleep. Unfortunately it didn't happen and I am here now feeling ashamed, embarrassed, used and above all stupid.

I am having such a hard time concentrating on anything at work today. I went back and re-read his conversations with me and they make me sick to my stomach. All the professions of love and he will protect me forever and will never hurt me. He knew all along what he was doing to me. How can a person be so cold and cruel to another one. Of course, how could I be so stupid as to allow him to do that to me. I guess the only good to come out of this is hopefully I have learned my lesson and Mike will not have to suffer because of this. I was always worried about how I would tell him and how he would survive on his own.

Now I have heard everything. He texts me and says his plane had terrible turbulence and guess what he has 2 broken arms!! He sends me a picture and I found it on google- it was from an airline incident in January and then he says oh he sent the wrong one. So he sends another one and I found that on google was from October 2022!!! What kind of a scam is he pulling on me. Says he is in Guatemala. I am so tired of this I am done. I AM DONE!!!

He tried to tell me not to believe what I find on google. I don't believe him anymore!!! Then he says he has to go because his arms hurt and guess what will be next: I lost my check in the turbulence and they won't let me leave the hospital unless I pay...Blah blah blah

Now he is playing the "you don't believe me" card and sent me a picture of him in a hospital bed with a cast on his arm. He can't talk because he is in too much pain. He could have staged that picture awhile ago. I just don't believe him anymore.

I actually talked to him on the phone. He is hard to understand because his accent is very pronounced. He kept apologizing to me for the accident. It just seems too unbelievable.

I still can't find any news report about the airplane turbulence where 4 people died. That just seems unreal to me.

[gaoau]

flirt

it's the color of his imagination.

is there color in your world? warnings — none. word count — 1.6k

prev. — next.

atsumu had always been the more boisterous twin and the one suna watched out for with more caution. he initiated most—definitely not all—of their infamous fraternal antics, which meant that if suna wanted to avoid them, he had to read atsumu first. over a year and a half was enough to familiarize himself with the mischievous smirks that promised chaos.

when it came to [name], things had worked the same. suna knew for a fact that atsumu wouldn't be able to keep his curious nose out of anything that involved her—solely to spite him. he just knew that when atsumu found out about her, he had reached the bottom of his own grave.

he had heard when's [name]-chan droppin' by again? a thousand times already. if she didn't show up for the whole week, atsumu would stare him down and smirk. she broke up with ya, didn't she? they weren't dating, but it wasn't like atsumu cared.

when she did make time to watch their practice, both twins would spend their breaks using her to annoy the living shit out of suna. they could easily take over the world if they joined forces correctly. [name] was already used to osamu, but his brother was a new experience.

she always smiled up at him as he towered over her. she always spat out the right words to feed his ever-growing ego. suna held back the urge to give himself a concussion while hearing her point out the obvious.

"you've nicknames? why didn't i know 'bout this? 'tsumu and 'samu?" both twins grinned at her, stealing a glance at suna. he felt every last drop of energy dissipate from his body. "that's so cute, i love it," she giggled, but cut it short into an ahaha!

atsumu flashed his fangs, mocking and dripping with venomous pride. "we'll make ya [nickname]-chan, whaddaya say?"

[name] lit up the entire gym with the sparkle in her eye. "oh my, what an honor." she placed her hand on her chest. her lips dug into her cheeks and suna noticed the dimple on the left side. 

"how 'bout you, sunarin?" suna prayed [name] wouldn't comment on that. he flung daggers at both twins for the price of one. "d'ya think it suits her?"

[name]'s chortles resounded loud and clear, bubbly and lively. her hair swayed along with her body. "sunarin? that one's even better. can i call ya that?"

he found her gaze with his narrowed glower. "do not even try."

"huh…" her smile vanished into thin air, her lips pursed as she bit the inside of her cheek. she bent her eyebrows to magnify her pout.

suna heaved out a sigh that landed with a thump by her feet. he contemplated the words he was about to pronounce. "use rintarou if it makes you happy." he rolled his eyes, balancing between relief and regret.

he missed the way her face brightened instantly. her grin gave the full moon a run for its money. suna didn't like the moon when it drowned out the stars, but he could appreciate a smile just as glistening. he avoided looking directly at it so he wouldn't stare at her dimple.

atsumu glanced at him and then returned to his dear [nickname]-chan. "there's more where that came from, ya know, [nickname]-chan." he really liked attention, didn't he?

[name] laughed—whether to humor him or because she genuinely found him funny, rintarou couldn't guess. "teach me yer ways, 'tsumu-sensei."

osamu snickered at him when he instinctively clenched his jaw. the miyas definitely knew how to get under his skin.

sluggishly trudging behind her allowed suna to see in detail how she managed to float while walking. every step she took appeared weightless and free, as if she lacked essence or direction. she flowed like water, fitting into the smallest of crevices and filling up the widest of spaces. she could accommodate to anything and anyone.

suna stared with attentive eyes. [name] hopped on dried leaves that indicated the change of seasons. her hair danced in the afternoon wind. she swatted it out of her face with sporadic yet careful fingers.

the gentle simper resting peacefully atop her lips whispered all the words she didn't bother to explain. the melodious tune she composed with dulcet hums and lyrical nonsense painted a harmonious picture of a content mind. no worries, no pains, no uncertainties.

she lived a simple life. she held her cards closer to her chest than it seemed. rintarou couldn't read her color like she had read him.

"should i learn how to tape yer fingers for ya?" the smile on her lips enlarged into a carefree grin. she waited for him to catch up to her. she really did move too fast. "yer hands're too pretty to get hurt."

not a single person could exist without pains and worries and uncertainties. although he had suspected [name] wasn't human, she always abided by their laws. for someone that rambled so much, she never said anything.

"rintarou-kun?"

his given name rolling off her tongue landed sweetly on his ears. he blinked back into reality, shoulders jolting.

[name] allowed a chuckle to fall. "thinkin' too much leads ya to deceivin', rintarou-kun. say it aloud, for yer sake more than mine."

when did he start growing curious about her? he could ask about her family, or her dreams and ambitions, or her way of living. he wanted to understand every word she threw at him; every graze of skin she initiated. how she smiled at atsumu with the same brightness she used for him; how she played with his hair but found osamu's grey color to be more interesting.

suna grimaced at himself. "do you like the twins?" he didn't give himself the chance to bite his own tongue.

"oh." [name] blinked at an inconsistent pace. "'course i do, they're real fun. never a dull moment with those two."

"i mean, physically." he should have stopped digging his grave any deeper, but [name] was just so annoying.

"as in do i like their looks?" suna only nodded. "yeah, i admit they're attractive. very, actually."

the twisting of his stomach and the tightening of his muscles warned him he didn't want to know more than that. maybe [name] wasn't one to fit the mold, even if water fit everywhere. she would never show suna all her cards.

her dilating pupils hadn't bothered him for over a month, but suddenly he hated looking her in the eye again. that gaze she washed over him to read him like an open book when he still struggled to understand the things she communicated verbally. [name] laughed, "but that ain't the question you were goin' for."

rintarou cocked a brow. "what do you mean?" that question was useless considering she never spelled things out for him.

"i like 'em both, but i think i like 'tsumu-kun a bit more." if he could carve his eardrums out, he would have. [name] clasped her hands together, gravitating around suna. "he's so full of color. 'samu-kun's the same, but he's a bit less vibrant. 'tsumu-kun's practically a rainbow to me, he has so many colors."

"unlike me."

"unlike you, exactly." either her words or her smile stung more—he couldn't tell which one. "so yeah, i like the twins, and yeah, i like 'tsumu-kun. but naw, i ain't into 'em."

"i didn't ask that." he rolled his eyes for good measure.

she blew a raspberry. "the great thing 'bout shades of grey s'that there's only ninety-eight of 'em between solid black and pure white." suna wondered if there was anyone who could make sense of her nonsense. "they're a bit tricky ta distinguish, but i can read all of 'em. took me a while, but i learned."

suna wondered if he was making the right sense out of her nonsense; if he was exhausting his brain with a deeper meaning that didn't exist in her words. "i think you mentioned something like that."

laughter rumbled behind her closed lips. "wanna know what color 'tsumu-kun boasts the most?"

"something like purple." he shrugged. he saw [name]'s brows jump in surprise. "royalty, right? plus, you like purples." he hissed the end of his sentence like a snake, a smile crawling onto his mouth.

"ah, so ya do listen ta me when i talk." their chortles of amusement blended together. "close 'nough, but nah."

"then?"

"s'a mixture of red an' purple. blood of hard work and rarity of royalty. it's rich and deep and very vibrant. very 'tsumu-kun."

"well, that's annoying…"

[name] giggled at his grumbles. "s'called flirt."

his shoulders bounced when he burst into laughter. "that's pretty accurate." [name] grinned at him with glimmering eyes, almost as if he were the eighth wonder of the world and she had just found him.

"but much like mixtures between red an' purple, flirt's 'nother color that doesn't exist. they're on different ends of the spectrum and never touch. the variations we see are just a pigment of our imagination." her gaze found his and suna allowed it to sink into his field of view. "food for thought, huh, rintarou-kun? see ya tomorrow."

[name] left behind only a dispersing image of her dancing fingers and the melody of every syllable in his name. she turned left where they usually turned right to reach her home. as if she lacked essence or direction, she floated away with her blatant truths painted with vibrant hues.

rintarou chuckled to himself as he watched her back disappear down the street. "see you," he called out. [name] stopped to wave at him. he waved his fingers like she did every time, turning on his heels to head home. he knew he was making the right sense out of her nonsense.

[jelibaen]

We're on the way to the airport now. I'll be home in just over 12 hours and I have to say... I'm both super excited to be back with my pets, but also extremely sad. I dont want to leave. I've said it probably a dozen times in the last two weeks - if I could find a way to get my animals here, I would move back to Newfoundland in a heartbeat. But moving seven snakes, twenty ducks, two geese, two cats and two dogs across the country is a task of its own. I dont even want to think about the conversation I would have to have with my friends. But I miss it.

I may delete this later on. I just need to get the words out.

My heart lives on this island, and yet I've never lived in Newfoundland for longer than a month or two at a time. I was born in Grand Falls. My mum went to Newfoundland to have me, and we went back to Alberta when I was 5 weeks old. And then we would go back and forth every summer, go back for Christmas, pretty consistently until I started school.

My entire family is from Newfoundland. I'm related to literally half of Twillingate. But they don't all live there. When my parents moved to Alberta, a bunch of their friends and cousins came with them and shared a house for a while. I was raised in a very Newfoundland household, even if we were as landlocked as we could get. When I started school, my grandparents would come up for the summer or for Christmas instead of us going there. I was raised with the music, with mummering, with Jiggs dinner, with an aching desire to be near water that somehow has to be genetic.

Then I started school. And I had to push all that down. I had to force myself to change my voice so that my classmates could understand me, or at least stop bullying me about the way I spoke or my accent. Didnt help much, they just found other things. Like how all the music is weird and annoying, how mummering is creepy, how I should stop pretending to be smart because I'm just a stupid Newfie. I stopped telling people I was from Newfoundland because I got tired of people asking me to try and pronounce 'about' and other shit for the next five minutes of the conversation.

That's how Alberta was. You cant talk to anyone because they'll think you're weird. Everything has to be locked up or in your hands, because if you even forget it for a second, someone will take it. People will break locks and cut fences just to get something they want. Guard what you have because someone will try to steal it. Dont walk anywhere after dark because someone will hurt you. Dont walk anywhere alone at any time because someone will hurt you. Dont try to be different. Dont even paint your door a different color because people will think you're weird. Dont trust anyone. That's what Alberta was and still is.

Now Alberta has a very high population of Newfoundlanders. Fort McMurray might as well be called Nfld soil for how many people are here from home. But you still only meet them out and about every once in a while. And when you do, its a totally different experience than meeting a stranger.

As soon as you meet someone from Nfld and they realize you're from there too? Instantly like old friends. There's no awkward introduction. You just start talking like you've known each other all your life, and you'll have to double back at the end of the conversation to ask what their name was because you can be talking for 15 minutes and not even bother introducing yourselves.

Its not rude. Its just the way we are. The default is that everyone is a friend. Alberta is so different. The culture there, especially nowadays, is so cold and caustic. I don't want to go back to clients yelling at me, to snappy people on the street, to the city that has gotten the highest crime rate in Canada five times. I want to be here. I want to be in the place where not a single door is locked, not a car, not a house, because everyone trusts each other. I want to be where I can walk anywhere and know I am loved. I want to be here, where I could go up to any door, even if they had no idea who I was, and be welcomed. I could knock on any stranger's door and ask for a cup of sugar, and end up staying for supper.

I want to be home.

When I flew down two weeks ago, the flights were silent. No chatter. Nobody talking. Until I got on the plane to St. John's from Halifax. It buzzed. People talked the entire flight to complete and total strangers, without hesitation. You walk into a store down here and you can talk to anyone. I was at Walmart the other day looking for rug binding, and I wasn't sure what I needed, but I just stood there looking a bit lost and trying to muster up the courage to ask a staff worker. The next thing I know, this grandmother comes down the aisle with 4 rolls of yarn and new knitting needles, takes one look at me, and asks me what I needed. And then we spent 25 minutes talking about various crafts, what rug binding I would need for what craft, what she'd been working on, what I was working on, and I left that aisle with 3 rolls of the tape I needed and a wonderful feeling of comfort. I didnt even ask her name. She didn't ask mine.

That's the culture in Newfoundland. Everyone is a friend. And by God does my heart ache for it. Not to mention the ocean, the rocks, the sounds of the sea and the wind.

Newfoundland is a struggling little island. Its one of the poorest parts of Canada. The unemployment rate is sky high. The weather is terrible. Everything costs an arm and a leg. But the default here is just... kindness. Everyone is in the same boat, everyone is going through the same struggle, so if you can make the struggle a bit easier, you might as well try.

One day I will be back. One day I will come back, and I will stay. And I will be home.