#but the host so rarely gets visitors that stay for a while

[astercontrol]

If KOSA passes

Or if any other form of censorship (there are many in the works!) ever succeeds at stepping in to impede our ability to communicate online:

We have to make plans.

Now, I dunno who'll even see this post. The few followers I have are TRON fans (who despite the fantasy we live in, tend to have realistically dismal views IRL about Disney and the various corporate uses of software).

And this fandom, on average, is pretty tech-savvy. It's where I've encountered the most people under 20 years old who actually know how to use a desktop or laptop computer.

So, if there's any hope for what I'm thinking about, this is prolly a good place to start with it.

(As with all my posts, I encourage reblogging and containment-breaching.)

(Gifs are clips from TRON 1982, mainly the "deleted love scene," from the DVD extras.)

Anyway.

Current society has moved online communication much too far onto major social media sites for my comfort. Whoever you communicate with over the internet, chances are you do it through a service owned by a big company: Tumblr, Twitter, Discord, Telegram, Facebook, whatever. Even TikTok (shudder).

These sites, despite their many flaws, can provide experiences that are valuable and hard to get otherwise. And once all your friends are on one site, you can't just leave and stay in touch with them all, not unless they all go the same place. It's easy to see why it's hard to abandon any social media platform.

But a backup plan is important. Because, as we've seen over and over, social media sites can't be relied on. They change their policies suddenly, without good reason-- and are inconsistent, even discriminatory, about enforcing those policies.

If they're funded by ads, the advertisers are their main customers, and your posts are the product. Their goal is that the posts most valuable to the advertisers get seen by people the advertisers consider desirable customers.

Helping you communicate-- making your posts get seen by the people you want to communicate with-- is optional to them.

Not to mention that the whole business model of an ad-funded website is generally unsustainable. Many of these sites are operating at a loss, relying on shareholders in a fragile bubble, doomed to fail soon just from lack of real profit.

And the more restrictions --like KOSA-- that the law puts on freedom of online speech, the likelier they are to go down or just become unusable. Every rule a site is required to follow is another strain on its resources, and most of them are already failing badly at even enforcing their own self-imposed rules.

If we want any control over our continued ability to stay in touch with our online friends-- we need to have a backup plan. Maybe it'll be simple at first, a bare-bones system we cobble together-- but it's gotta be something that will work. For a while at least.

There are lots of really good posts about ways to build your own website, using a service like Neocities. I VERY MUCH recommend learning this skill-- learning to make websites of the very simplest, most stable, glitch-resistant type, made of html pages-- which you can upload to a host while you store backups on your home computer. If you value the writing and art that you put online, this is probably the safest you can keep it.

But that's for making your own creative work public.

As for communicating with others-- for example, receiving and answering other people's comments on your work-- that gets more complex. I personally haven't found it worthwhile to troubleshoot the problems that come with having a system that allows visitors to comment publicly on my website.

But what we do still have-- and likely will for a long time-- is email.

Those of us who came of age before social media's current hold... well, we might take this for granted. Email was the first form of online contact we ever encountered… and thus it can seem to us like the most ordinary, the most boring.

But in the current world, it is a rare and precious thing to find a method of communicating that doesn't require everyone in the chat to be signed on with the same corporation.

Email is, as of now, still perfectly legal-- as much as social media companies have been trying to herd the populace away from it. I'm sure there are other ways to share thoughts online that are not bound by laws. But I am not going to go into that here.

Email service is provided by law-abiding companies, which will comply with subpoenas if law enforcement thinks you are emailing about doing illegal things. So, email is not a surefire way to be safe, if laws become dystopian enough to threaten your freedom to talk about your own life and identity.

But it's safer than posting on a public social media page.

For now.

Email is beautifully decentralized. You can get an email address many different ways-- some reliant on a company like Gmail, others hosted on your own domain. And different people, with all different types of email addresses, hosted in all different ways-- can all communicate together by the same method.

Of course any of these people, individually, can lose their email address for some reason or other, and have to get a new one. But as long as they still know the email addresses of their contacts, they can reconnect and recover from that loss. The structure of a group linked by email is reliant not on a single company-- but on the group itself, the friends you can actually count on.

This is why I am trying to promote the idea of forming email lists, as a backup plan to give people a way to stay in touch as mainstream social media sites prove to be unsustainable.

I'm envisioning a simple system of sending emails to several addresses at once, and making each reply visible to everyone in the chat by using "reply all" (or, if desired, editing the To field to reply to only some).

If enough people get used to using email in this way, it could fill most of the needs met by any other group chat or forum …without depending on a centralized social media company that's taking dystopian measures to try and make the business profitable.

So here are some thoughts about how I personally imagine it could work.

(Feel free to comment and bring up any thoughts I haven't addressed, or suggestions to customize how specific groups could set it up. This is meant as more of a starting point for brainstorming than a catch-all solution.)

As I see it, here are the basics of what you and your friends would each need to start out:

An email address. Any kind, hosted anywhere. You should use a dedicated email account just for this group, one that you do NOT use for other communication. Being in this group will result in things you don't want happening to your main email address-- like getting a TON of email, one for every post and reply. Or someone could get your email address that you really don't want any contact with. Use a burner email account (one that you can easily replace) and change it if needed.

The knowledge of how to "REPLY ALL" in your email. This will be necessary in order to add a comment that everyone in the group can see.

The knowledge of how to EDIT THE "TO" FIELD in your email, and remove addresses from the list of all recipients. This will be necessary if you want to CHANGE WHICH PEOPLE in the group can see your comment.

The knowledge of how to FILTER WORDS in your email. This will be necessary if a topic comes up that you don't want to see any mentions of.

The knowledge of how to BLOCK PEOPLE in your email. This will be very important. If someone joins this email group who you do not want to interact with, it will be up to you to BLOCK them so that you do NOT see their messages. (If they are bad enough to evade the block with multiple burner accounts, that's what you have a burner account for. Change it, and share the new one only with those you trust not to give it to them.)

Every person in the group will be effectively a "moderator" of the group, able to remove people from it by cutting their email addresses out of the "To" field. Members will all have equal "moderator" privileges, each able to tailor the group to their own needs.

This means the group may naturally split, over time, into other groups, each one removing some people and adding others. Some will overlap, some won't. This is good! This is, in my opinion, what online interaction SHOULD be like! There should be MANY groups like this!

In this way, we can keep online discussion alive, no matter WHAT happens to any of the social media websites.

If the dystopia got bad enough to shut down email, we could even continue with postal mail and photocopies, like they did in the days of print-zine fanfiction.

If it looks like the dystopia is gonna come for postal mail too, we'll use the connection we have to preserve whatever contacts we can with people who live near us.

Not saying it's GONNA get that bad. But these steps of preparation are good no matter exactly what kind of bad stuff happens.

As long as some organized form of communication still exists, we'll have a place where it's at least a little safer to be your true self…

to plan events and meetups…

and maybe even activities a little too risque to make the final cut of a 1982 Disney movie.

They're trying to censor us. We want a Free System. So we're gonna fight back.

For the Users. Not the corporations.

Peace out, programs. <3

[mystwrites]

Hi!!!!!! I read your lee Tanizaki fic, it is soooooooo cuuuuuuute 💛

You're the first person I've requested for a fanfic 🤣 but I think I understand how I have to ask it 😅

I would like to read some BSD. Can you write some lee: Kenji and ler: Tanizaki? I love this two too much, I would like 🍇 and 🧺, if that’s possible

No pressure! I love your fics!!!!!!!! 🫶

Closing my Event on the 22nd!

Picnics with the Agency were rare. They were always way too busy either fighting for their lives or trying their best to save Yokohama. However, after the Decay of Angels incident died down, this left room for all parties involved to celebrate.

The Port Mafia and Agency decided to host a picnic at the nearby park which had a secluded spot away from the normal flow of visitors. The park was used by the two organizations often and was the neutral zone, meaning they could all be friendly. While not unusual to host bonding activities, Junichiro still couldn’t find it in himself to befriend any of the mafia members. Normally, he’d find some common ground if Naomi helped him strike up a conversation between the others but she was unfortunately sick due to her finals all being overwhelmingly stressful.

Atsushi and Dazai seemed the most content bickering with Chuuya and Akutagawa while Kunikida and Yosano both seemed to enjoy glaring at everyone and their choices of companions. Even Fukuzawa and Mori were arguing about god knows what. Kyouka and Koyou were pretty tight knit along with Tachihara, Higuchi, Gin and Hirotsu all deciding to challenge Ranpo to some riddles. Even Poe was there with his raccoon. Why he was there, no one would ever know. Kenji was bouncing between groups, happy as ever until he skipped over to Junichiro.

“Hey! You look lonely. Mind if I keep you company since your sister isn’t here?” he asked, his smile being one of the few comforting things about this joint picnic event.

“Sure. It’s nice to talk with someone who isn’t either drunk or bickering.” Junichiro replied, patting the space next to him. “So, how’s Hanako doing?”

“Great! She’s great!” Kenji replied, happy that Junichiro cared about his pet cow. “How’s Naomi? I heard she got sick.”

“She’s fine. Both her and a friend from her high school got sick so she’s staying with her so she doesn’t get me or anyone at the Agency sick.”

“How thoughtful of her.”

As the hours ticked by, the others all began to do different activities. Kenji and Junichiro watched as Kunikida, Yosano, Fukuzawa and Mori began to play a rather heated game of hanafuda while Kyouka’s group seemed to be gossiping. As the two looked towards Atsushi, Akutagawa, Chuuya and Dazai, they weren’t the least bit surprised to see them literally in what could be viewed as a free for all wrestling match. No teams, just random tackles and limbs flailing about.

“I wanna get more fruit.” Kenji said, patting his tummy. “I’m hungry again. Do we still have any fruit in the coolers?”

“I’m sure we do.” Junichiro replied, pointing to the giant cooler.

“Alrighty, lemme go check!” Kenji exclaimed, frowning when he realized there was only cheese and crackers left. “Aww…someone ate the rest of the fruit! Oh well, cheese and crackers will do.”

Junichiro chuckled, remembering a silly trick Dazai pulled on both him and Atsushi a few weeks prior when they said the same thing. Poor Kenji might not have known what happened since he hadn’t been in the office that day but he would know the trick now.

“Do you want raspberries?” Junichiro asked, snickering to himself knowing how gullible the young teen was.

Kenji’s eyes suddenly shimmered brightly as he sat next to Junichiro. “Raspberries?? You have some? Where?” he squealed. “Oh my gosh I love everything about raspberries!! They have such a pretty color and the way you can put them on your fingertips and eat them! Ooh and the taste! They taste so goo-eeek!!”

Suddenly, sakura blossoms and clear blue sky were all Kenji could see. Junichiro suddenly entered his field of vision and before Kenji could ask what was happening, his friend lifted his shirt up and blew on his tummy. Immediately, Kenji burst into hysterics and rolled around screaming.

Junichiro grinned. He never heard Kenji laugh like this before and experimentally poked his sides, Kenji shrieking and curling into a tight ball. As soon as Kenji uncurled from his protective stance, Junichiro gave him another raspberry. To make Kenji laugh even more, he gently dug his fingers into the boy’s sides, beaming as Kenji grabbed his wrists and kicked.

“AHAHAHAA!! STOHOHOP!! PLEHEHEASE! I CAN’T BREHEHEATHE!!” Kenji begged, screaming as Junichiro squeezed his hips and gave his tummy another raspberry.

Before they knew it, the groups had all focused their attention on the two, Junichiro suddenly embarrassed to have all eyes on their shenanigans.

“Ahahaha!! W-whahahat was thahat??” Kenji asked, giggling as Junichiro helped him up. “Whyhyhy did you tihihickle mehehehe?!?”

“I have you raspberries.” Junichiro laughed, giving Kenji a head pat.

“Why’d you stop?” Kenji asked, frowning. “That was fun!”

“Uhhh…cuz we have the attention of both the Agency and the Port Mafia…” Junichiro stammered, embarrassed as he heard some people snickering behind them. One of the people snickering was definitely Dazai.

Dazai definitely had the intention to start an all out tickle fight, grabbing Atsushi and Akutagawa. The duo began screaming and kicking, flailing their arms and attempting to bite Dazai as they yelled. Chuuya at some point screamed something about Dazai being a stupid mackerel while trying to save the younger two. Kunikida then tried stepping in and made the situation worse, Dazai somehow taking all four men down to the grass in the process.

“Kenji kun…” Junichiro stammered, spectating the scene along with everyone else. “I fear we might’ve started something too chaotic to stop…”

“Yeah…oh well!” Kenji giggled, smirking at Junichiro. “I think it’s time I get you back!~”

Junichiro all but squeaked nervously. “N-no…nono! We don’t need to do this, Kenji kun!”

“Do YOU like raspberries, Tanizaki san?~” the blonde asked, launching himself onto the redhead.

“NOOO!! NO I DOHOHON’T!!” Junichiro wailed, laughing as Kenji got his well deserved revenge.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I’m honored to have been the first person you’ve sent a request to! I’m honored🩷Also, this image is from the mobile game called BSD: Tales of the Lost!

[colderdrafts]

2: A small reprieve

Underground visitor, gn reader x monster (male drider). Sfw. Previous Next

It’s an awkward trek back toward the rocky formations. Your host for the night has underway introduced himself as Dren, and you’ve offered you name in turn. The storm is getting worse, as Dren said, wind picking up to harsher levels and rain pouring still.

Dren keeps a respectful distance, mindful not to scare you, though he still hovers behind you as if preparing to catch you should the wind cause you to fly off.

Adrenaline has somewhat worn off by the time you get back, and, now able to feel your body again, you find yourself downright miserable.

Dren quickly ushers you inside the cave, relieved of being out of the storm. The entrance is pitch black, and you note now that this open hole in the rock formation indeed stretches deeper into the ground. Instinctively you reach for your phone to get a flashlight out, but the disappointingly empty pocket of your jacket reminds you it's currently lying in a bush somewhere being useless.

You watch as Dren vanishes in the pitch blackness as he casually walk further in, dark body blending in perfectly. You hear his scuttling footsteps falter when he realizes you’re not following.

“Is something the matter?” his voice reaches you from the dark, and you can’t help but shudder when you can’t locate its origins at all.

“It’s very dark,” you tell him, staring into the gaping abyss. “I don’t know where to put my feet.”

“Oh,” the voice says. “You can’t – hold on. Stay right there, please.”

There a moment of pause where you just feel eyes on you, so you nod at the dark. You hear Dren’s footsteps receding.

The storm rages outside, and you turn around to watch the violently jerking movements of the trees and plants, watching fallen leaves rake across the night sky and the rain still pouring. This could be an opportunity to change your mind and leave this place before you enter the darkness. But what is more dangerous? The elements or the benevolent spider?

You may have to take a chance and stay put to find out.

A few minutes later you hear the clicking noises of Dren’s steps approaching and whip around. To your surprise, an actual light source is hastily coming your way.

Dren is holding an old-time lit oil lantern. It gives a decent light in the dark. He stops in front of you and holds it out to you, looking somewhat relieved you’re still there.

“I rarely get guests, and I can see fine in the dark. I had forgotten that you might not,” he explains, sheepish. “Luckily I kept this thing.”

You gingerly take it, mindful not to brush against his clawed fingers, and now you’re finally able to really get a look at your host.

His entire lower body is a pitch black spiders body, with rough hairs running along his abdomen, eight pointed legs protruding from under his upper body. Said body is a humanoid naked torso with a pudgy but strong build, chest and upper arms partially covered in the same rough looking hairs. Those on his head are long and dark, currently wet and plastered to his face. Hidden behind the stray locks you see now he indeed has four eyes in total, colored like obsidian, two on each side of his face. On top of the mouth are two fanged mandibles.

It’s hard not to gawk.

He tilts his head at you, and you realize you’re staring. “Sorry,” you say, quickly glancing away. “I’ve just never seen anyone like you before.”

Dren gives you an odd look. “..Never?” he seems somewhat perplexed. “But you’re – well. Let’s talk when we get settled in,” he nods at your drenched clothes. “I may have some spare fabrics for you as well.”

Dren leads you through a series of tunnels dug into the earth, wide enough to comfortably house his large form and you walking next to him. The ceilings are covered in webbing, and you thank the stars it’s not on the ground you’re walking on, lest you got stuck in the stuff again.

“Did you dig this out?” you ask, mostly to fill the silence.

Dren nods. “Took a while, but it was worth it. I even managed to dig out an underground water source that was connected to the main cave system,” there's a slight pride in his voice, and it’s not hard to see why.

Looking nearer, you spot multiple intricate carvings running along the walls and floors, skillfully crafted into the dirt. They run along the entire distance you walk, the circling patterns almost hypnotic to look at. It must have taken him weeks if not months to do them.

The route he leads you contains multiple twists and turns, and the tunnels branch off in different directions several times, some even vanishing up and above you, some falling further down below.

You have no idea how Dren navigates them, taking turns left and right seemingly, to you, at random. After just a few minutes walking you realize you’re hopelessly lost in the system, which does not speak well for your confidence being here.

It means you’ll have to trust Dren to lead you safely to the outside again.

You glance up at him. He’s looking ahead with a neutral expression that’s a bit hard to read, though he catches your eye and offers a small fanged smile with a tilt of his head.

You look away again.

Your host leads you into a larger room dug out of the ground. The lantern illuminates it well enough. The first thing you notice is the walls and floors here are, like the tunnels, carved full of intricate designs and patterns. Flora, fauna and symbols unknown to you decorate the surfaces all around you. Looking up, you find the ceiling here is also covered in web.

In a corner, you spot a pile of different items put side by side - clothing, blankets, both neatly folded, some skins and furs, but also cups, pots, and different kitchen utensils. Opposite that is a large table, upon which decorative wooden sculptures are set. There’s a hole dug into the further wall, perhaps acting as a fireplace judging from the shape, though it doesn't seem to have seen much use.

In the other end of the room, you spot two other entrance points, though the lantern is not powerful enough to illuminate what lies further inside.

"This is where I spend most of my waking hours," Dren says, watching you take in the surroundings. "I guess you would call it something like a 'living room'."

You put a palm across the intricate carvings in the walls, surprised at how sturdy the soil is. It almost feels like running your hand over wood. "You did these as well?" you ask him.

"I did," he nods. "Do you like them?"

"They're beautiful."

Dren rubs his arms, sheepish. "Thank you. To be honest, one of the reasons I dug out so much space is to carve the walls," he chuckles. "I get bored down here easily."

"Must be handy that you can just carve out another room whenever you want. Although, the tunnel system has me completely lost," you laugh nervously.

"I'd imagine so," Dren says, and smiles gently. "I designed them that way."

You ignore the small goosebumps on your skin. "You made them confusing on purpose?"

"Confusing perhaps if you're not the one who built the system. What kind of constructor couldn't find his way in his own home?" he replies. "It's mainly because of snatchers. A confusing system means they waste time trying to find their way around. Their wasted time becomes extra time for me to stop them."

"What's a snatcher?" you ask.

Dren laughs, but stops once he realizes it's a serious question. He gives you that same odd look. "You - you truly don't know?"

You shake your head no and shrug.

"You're really not from around here, are you?" he muses. "Well, put simply, they snatch our eggs, hence the name. Roughly your size and shape, as I mentioned. They just happen to have scales, eyes and teeth like a snake. Nasty little things.”

Dren clasps his hands together and, as if in some sort of uncanny imitation, so does the pedipalps of his lower body. “But first things first, we should get you dry."

He walks over to the pile and start picking up some of the folded clothing items, mumbling something about sizes and temperature. He glances at you once in a while, as if using you for reference.

"These should do," he picks out a beige woolen shirt, a pair of brown leather pants and some long undergarments, and hands them to you. "I was going to use these for trading come spring, though you would probably have more use of them now."

You nod your thanks. "Is there somewhere I can go change?" you ask politely, not too keen on being exposed in front of a complete stranger, humanoid spider or not.

Dren looks at you puzzled, but only briefly. "Oh - of course. I'll give you some privacy. Actually, if you would hand me the lantern-?"

You're reluctant to part with your only source of light down here, especially considering you're not entirely trusting Dren yet.

It must have shown on your face, as he quickly adds: "You can have it back, I just want to use the already lit flame to light up more around here. It would be incredibly rude to have my guest stumbling around in the dark, after all. You can get changed while I light up some of the tunnels."

You hand it to him, and he quickly gets to work picking out more lanterns from inside some hollowed out parts of the wall that must act as a storage.

Why would he have a bunch of lanterns lying around if he doesn't need them?

Dren lights them, and you watch as he stretches himself up, and grabs onto the ceiling with his legs. In one fluid motion, he brings himself up.

Suddenly seeing him climbing around upside down causes you to take a wary step back, but he merely uses this new position to more easily attach the lit lanterns to some strings in the web covering the ceiling.

Three of them are now illuminating the room nicely.

Dren crawls over you you, still upside down, and reaches out the lantern he borrowed back to you. "I will not be illuminating everything for now. That would take hours, and far exceed my supply of lanterns," he smiles. "Keep this one in case you turn up somewhere you can't see."

You take it, quietly pondering just how big this cave system must be.

"Please make yourself comfortable. I'll return in a few minutes."

With that, Dren walks across the ceiling down one of the other hallways and out of view.

Once you're sure he's gone, you hastily shrug out of your wet clothes, shuddering a bit against the cool air as it hits your exposed skin. To your surprise, the clothes Dren has selected for you fit you like a glove. They have a pleasant earthy smell, and quickly a cozy warmth spreads through your body. You wonder why Dren would have something like this as well, seeing as he doesn't exactly require pants, nor a shirt judging from his bare torso.

You fold your own wet clothes and place them on the table, unsure what to do with your hands.

A few minutes later Dren returns, and lowers himself back on the floor at the entrance to the living room.

"That should do for now," he sighs and stretches. He looks you over. "They fit you well. Are you comfortable?"

"Much better dry," you reply. "Thanks."

Dren nods, and walks over to the pile and picks out some skins. He hands you a sheepskin.

"I - don't have chairs," he says, apologetic, and motions for you to sit.

You get settled on the ground, and Dren folds his legs in and settles across from you, leaning his torso on his pedipalps and peering at your face. The casual notion of just sitting on the floor is an odd contrast to your current level of wariness.

“I am curious to where you actually are from,” he starts. “Even with their custodian it’s odd to find a sentry roaming around at night, and you have seemingly ventured out on your own. Did something happen?”

“You mentioned that before,” you note, subtly scooting a bit back in a subconscious attempt to avoid his staring. “But I’m not sure I follow. What do you mean custodian? What’s a sentry?”

He blinks. “What’s a – hm.”

He goes eerily quiet for a moment, contemplating. “I must admit I find it somewhat hard to believe you’ve never met a drider before. How come you haven’t?”

Drider, that’s the word. Your brain must have had a field day cooking up this fever dream from somewhere in your subconscious. At least it had the decency to provide the horrifying person in front of you with manners.

His sentence catches up with you. Oh. He thinks you’re lying. That’s probably not good.

How come you’ve never seen one like him before? Well, usually the forests you’re familiar with have other more comprehensive beings that could potentially chase you through the dark.

You cough. “Well, I don’t really know how to explain it. Until I met you, I had no idea anything like you even existed. I promise, I’m as confused as you are.”

He frowns at this, concerned. “Have you been isolated somewhere?” he asks gently. “Are you running away from someone? You can tell me, I won’t make you go back.”

“What? No, no, nothing like that.”

“Then what?” he prods, lower body quietly chittering. “I think it’d be in both of our best interest if you didn’t lie to me.”

You feel a bit scrutinized, suddenly finding yourself under a weirdly gentle interrogation. The slight amount of ease you’ve felt has been efficiently herded away by the calculating expression on Dren’s face.

He’s barely done a thing, and yet you suddenly feel like you’re being measured, like your response will be a deciding factor in how your stay here will go. You wonder if you’d have time to run if he decides to not host you here anymore.

Which brings another clarity.

You can’t exactly get away from here if you had to, can you?

Dren has utilized a calm demeanor to ease your tension, provided shelter and a light in the dark to lure you in. He has managed to twist and turn you through the caving system, and now you find yourself trapped in a maze you could never find your way out of with a being who could end you on a whim.

You have no control of what happens to you right now. Nothing is holding you down, yet you still find yourself caught. It brings a bad taste in your mouth, having been manipulated so easily.

But even so, nothing of this conversation so far has shown any intend to physically harm you.

Your host just wants to be sure who you are.

Right?

To be fair, if you were in Dren’s position you would probably also have a hard time believing some random person just appeared out of thin air and start making assumptions as well. Though, having already been on the receiving end of his wrath, albeit undeserved, you’re not keen on getting there again.

But what more can you do when you’re already telling the truth?

You force yourself to look at his face. He’s watching you gather your thoughts, patient as ever.

“I just – I don’t think this is my world anymore," you start, feeling the puzzle pieces fall into place. "I know how it sounds - I was just walking home. Then the storm happened, the darkness, I couldn’t see anything. I stumbled around until I found the entrance to the cave and well – that’s it. I have no idea how I got here. I promise, this is all foreign to me.”

Dren watches you for a moment, thoughtful. You hold your breath.

“'Not your world'?” he repeats slowly, tasting the words. “Truly?”

“Not anymore,” you affirm.

There’s a heavy silence for a bit where you hold his eye.

Eventually, Dren nods. “Alright then. Blue moons, no wonder you’re so confused.”

You blink at him. Just like that? “You're taking this quite well."

"If that is your truth, then that is your truth," he shrugs.

Okay. You can't tell if that means he either still doesn't believe you but doesn't want to 'pry', or he's taking your words at face value.

Or maybe he just thinks you're insane and thus unaware you're lying. Honestly? You’ll take whatever if it means you’re not about to be lunch.

You let out a breath. "I wouldn't have believed me either. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m not just dead and this is all some sort of Limbo.”

“Hah. Well, not to worry. I’m quite sure you’re still very much alive,” Dren says, glint in his eyes. “But I’m afraid I don’t have much answers to your predicament. I’m not exactly an expert in – well. Out-of-world-things.”

“That we have in common,” you mumble.

You try and think back to what might have happened. The all-encompassing darkness did seem alive somehow. And the storm kicked up rather abruptly. But normally, you would just throw that off as you being exhausted and climate change.

You wonder how you vanishing to wherever-this-is has an effect on wherever-home-is and frown in worry. What will happen to the things you left behind? And how do you get back to them?

If you even get out of this cave again.

"You took a lot of turns down here on purpose, didn't you?" you ask. It's not judgmental, just stating a fact.

Dren smiles again, seemingly pleased you caught on. "I may have tipped things in my favor. You understand I had to make sure you weren't a threat to me. I'm now convinced you're not."

“A threat to you?" you say, incredulous. "Why would you bring me here if you didn’t think I was harmless?”

“No one’s ever harmless,” he chuckles. “Your story is hard to believe, but given your strange reaction upon seeing me, your foreign clothing, your genuine confusion – well, stranger things have happened.

“Usually, if a sentry is out alone, one of two things have happened. Either their custodian is dead, or they’re running away. One leaves them fragile, the other with immense potential danger to me. I had to be sure which you were. Just odd it turns out you are neither.”

"Huh," you say. "I think I have some terminology to catch up on to understand anything of what you just said.”

Dren laughs. “Apologies. I’ll explain what I can. Shortly put, a sentry is a being such as yourself. You only exists few and far between here. It is exceedingly rare to see one. I'll count myself lucky.”

You shake you head. “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m a human,” you tell him. “A sentry is like a position in a job.”

He shrugs. “I assume that’s your word for your kind, but you're very much the same. But I suppose you could look at it as a job. You keep watch, after all. Mostly when the custodian is asleep or otherwise incapacitated.”

“And the custodian..?”

“In return for their watchful eye, the custodian provides shelter, protection,” Dren elaborates. “Since you’re very rare, most tend to become a little overprotective. There’s a lot of competition. It’s not unheard of that one custodian will fight the other for their sentry.”

Your brow furrows. “They fight? For us? Why?”

Dren nods, and counts on his fingers as he speaks. “For one; you're capable of creating and maintaining a bond with custodians that other species simply cannot - You connect differently.

"And two, no less important, you don't hibernate. Most custodians are attacked and killed when they’re at their most vulnerable during this time,” he frowns momentarily, focusing on you. “Having a sentry to keep watch through winter is almost guaranteed survival.”

Huh.

You guess that explains Dren’s previous mistrust of your confusion if he thought you were one of those things and related to a 'custodian'. It seems there’s a very intricate balance between the two. You wonder what one of them might look like.

“But then – why would a sentry run? If they're supposed to work together?” you ask.

Dren’s eyes darken. “Not all custodians do their jobs well.” It hangs heavy that he chooses not to elaborate. “I was worried that was what had happened to you.”

“Oh. Well, no worries. I just fell out of the sky,” you jest. “Not any of the .. other business.”

He chuckles. “While that is also hardly a satisfactory situation, I am glad to hear you haven't gone through an overly aggressive custodian.”

You nod mutely. This is all a lot to take in and you get the feeling there’s way more for you to learn about this place. This dynamic seems odd at best, though what he has told you does spark some hope.

If humans and sentries are indeed the same, it must mean that there are other people like you out there. Maybe there’s a reason you’re a rarity in this world – maybe someone else got here the same way you did? Could someone else have found a way to get back?

But even if so, where would you even start looking?

“You look exhausted,” Dren notes gently, his voice bringing you out of your thoughts. “I can set up a place for you to rest? We can talk more in the morning.”

“That obvious?” you sigh. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

Dren gets to his feet and starts collecting some more furs and skins from the pile. He ventures toward one of the tunnels he vanished behind before. “This way.”

While you’re hesitant to traverse even more of the huge labyrinth that makes up Dren's home, thankfully he doesn’t lead you far from the ‘living room’. The (now lit) tunnel takes an easy right, and opens into a medium sized room with different sized pockets dug out of the earth.

Dren carefully deposits his pile of soft items into one of them – thankfully one close to the ground, you note – neatly putting things in place. He turns to you.

“I hope this is – adequate, for now,” he fidgets, “I don’t have things your kind usually use.”

“At this point I could sleep on a boulder if I had to,” you joke, and peer inside the makeshift nest of furs he’s made for you. It looks cozy enough, for a literal hole in the ground. “I’ll be fine.”

Dren nods, but keeps looking at you for a moment. “If you need water, just exit again and turn left instead. You’ll come across a stream,” he says, listing off things like you would to politely inform a house-guest back home and cover their basic needs. He turns, and heads toward the exit. “I’ll let you rest.”

“Dren?” you call just as he’s about to vanish.

He looks over.

“I know we had a – rocky start,” you snort, “but, I’m grateful for all this. Thanks for letting me crash.”

He frowns in worry. “Crash?”

“Oh – uh. Stay. Thanks for letting me stay.”

His look softens as he smiles. “Sleep well.”

His footsteps recede as he vanishes down the tunnel.

You try and settle in under the unfamiliar covers. The furs have a quite potent musky scent to them that you'll need to get used to, though they prove quite warm and soft. They provide decent padding on the hard ground, but it's still not the most comfortable place you've settled in for some rest.

Is it okay to fall asleep here? You don't know if you can. So much have happened in such a short amount of time, and you're not sure how to exactly process everything. Some part of you is still holding out hope you'll wake up and find yourself awakening from a coma in a hospital bed.

What are you going to do if that's not the case?

You were lucky enough to at least find some shelter for now, though you still don't exactly trust your host for a multitude of reasons. Is going to sleep with him still roaming around to do whatever when you're out cold really a very safe option? For all of Dren's hospitality and his seemingly friendly disposition, you can't forget he's still made sure you can't find your way out if you so did desire. Does that make you a captive?

Maybe it does. You're honestly not sure.

Fact still remains, you're exhausted. What's done is done. You're better of figuring all of this out with a clear head.

You reach over and turn off the lantern. The darkness envelopes you immediately, and the first thing to notice here is just how silent the dark is. Your previous residence has accustomed you to the occasional sound of muffled voices from your neighbors, the passing of a car outside your window, the faint creaking of the walls settling.

Other than an occasional drip from condensed water or the gentle hum of the cavern echo, there's no sound down here at all. Without the lanterns on it's like being in a sensory deprivation chamber. There's just nothing. How Dren hasn't gone completely mad down here seemingly alone in the dark is beyond you, but maybe that's a spider thing.

You clutch the furs covering you a bit tighter and curl up. It's going to be a long night.

[golvio]

Something I’ve noticed about the Great Fairy Fountains in BotW is that, although they look like standard flower bulbs when dormant, when they activate and open after Link donates enough money, they look like rafflesia flowers. Rafflesia flowers have no leaves or roots because they evolved to be parasitic, attaching themselves to a specific species of vine called the Tetrastigma that grows along the rainforest floor and siphoning water and nutrients from its host plant.

Now, there doesn’t seem to be any such vine in the temperate forest where Cotera’s rafflesia grows, but the base of the flower is covered with giant fungi, which suggests her flower gets its water and nutrients from the same symbiotic mycelium network that supports the nearby trees. The fungi near the fountain seems especially active and potent—not only are its fruiting bodies huge, the surrounding plantlife its roots are attached to seems unusually healthy and vigorous. There are even several rare species of plants growing in the area, including the Hearty Radish, Endura Carrots, and even the incredibly picky and sensitive Silent Princess, which was notorious among pre-Calamity gardeners and conservationists for being unable to survive outside of very specific natural conditions.

But what’s really curious to me is how Cotera and her sisters seem to also require a symbiotic relationship with regular mortal people to survive. They’re different from the animals that frequent their fountains in that, in addition to physical sustenance from water and root sugars, they also require some sort of magical/spiritual energy from visitors to stay healthy and happy.

I keep thinking of Skyward Sword’s yin/yang imagery with the dual forces of Malice and Gratitude in the materials you can collect to upgrade your stuff. Gratitude, like Malice, is a spiritual energy that’s released by living beings when they experience a sufficiently powerful emotion. The emotions associated with Malice appear to be negative, while the emotions that form Gratitude energy are positive. Both energies can “crystallize” into solid forms that can be handled, transported, and used in rites. Both have transformative and vitality-increasing properties for creatures aligned with their specific energy wavelengths, and can be poisonous to creatures not aligned to them, like how Malice is poisonous to the non-monster peoples of Hyrule while giving beneficial properties to monsters, boosting their physical strength, extending their vitality, even resurrecting them so long as they have physical remains to animate.

There have also been certain notable cases where certain beings were able to shift their energy alignments when exposed to enough pf the opposite energy. For example, gathering a high enough concentration of Gratitude Crystals was enough to transform Batreaux the demon into a human. Meanwhile, Rhoam mentioned that Ganon was formerly a human man who “became Malice.” I imagine the nature of his transformation and the reason why he was exposed to enough ambient Malice to become an entity that was composed of and could consciously control it will be expanded upon in TotK when it comes out.

But, anyways, Cotera and her sisters. It seems like her dependence upon travelers and their donations reveals a very interesting thing about “minor deities” and other beings of similar power who deliberately cultivate symbiotic relationships with humans through worship. The way she gathers Gratitude energy is initially through a symbolic donation of something of value to humans, in this case, money. The energy given by this donation is enough to revitalize her from her hibernation, and she continues gathering Gratitude by using her restored powers to improve the armor Link carries.

Basically, before travelers stopped coming to visit the fountains after the Calamity wiped out huge chunks of the population and made travel difficult, there was some kind of economy happening where the Great Fairies exchanged favors for the Gratitude mortal travelers released upon receiving those favors. Without that Gratitude energy, the fairies can at least physically survive, but are forced into a state of hibernation until a mortal radiating the positive emotional energy they crave draws near.

It reminds me a lot of the relationships between regular humans and kami in various depictions of Shintoism, where humans need the favor of the gods to survive, but the gods also require attention and energy in the form of prayer and symbolic exchanges of money used for the upkeep of their shrine. A lot of local folk religious practices in various parts of China involve a similar relationship, although in some cases the exchange of money/gifts is even more symbolic, with joss paper versions of “real” goods being burned in offering.

It makes me curious about what’s going on between the Yiga Clan and Ganondorf. The Yiga certainly seem to be trying to set up some sort of reciprocal relationship between themselves and Ganon in Age of Calamity, putting Ganon’s inert little robot vessel in a shrine and offering it food. Ganon, likewise, seems drawn to the Yiga because of the Malice they foster within their hearts from their own hatred of the Royal Family and the Hylians for their rejection and exile after lifetimes of devoted service. Harbinger Ganon depends on Malice in his environment for energy, violently wrenching out life energy touched by Malice from monster and human alike in order to restore himself as quickly as possible after each defeat.

However, if Ganondorf himself is freed and the urgency of his appetite is tamed by treating his obvious starvation…would it be possible for him to develop into a Malice-aligned version of the symbiotic relationship between beings like Cotera and her visitors? One where favors are exchanged for the voluntary, gradual release of the hatred and anger burdening his worshippers’ hearts, as opposed to him violently cracking their souls open and instantly slurping up the hate-filled juices inside, draining them of their life force and killing them in the process?

[masqsims4]

Royalty and the Moon

It is common for the full moon to be an event among the royal families, but why is that? Most royalty have lineage from the planet Sixam, where the distant moon comes into view once every ten years, making it a reason to celebrate. On Earth, the moon is always visible and nearby, but becomes a full moon once a month. Since the first King of Seindu back in Generation 2, it has become custom to have a moon viewing every month when the moon is full.

Moon viewings have become popular events, and each place on Earth celebrates very differently. Here are some examples of Moon viewings in a royal household from around the world.

Brindleton Bay

The full moon tends to shine over the river and ocean, so families would gather at the river bank or boardwalk with warm food and drinks to watch the moon. The Seindu Family set up a picnic area in the riverside park, filled with snack bars with food depending on the season and weather. The royal family host a gathering for other royals at the palace gardens with light snacks and Champaign. The Moon Garden Party at Brindleton Bay has become a popular event to meet royalty as well as the rich and famous.

Mt. Komorebi

Komorebi previously had moon viewing customs called Otsukimi, held once on the fifteenth day in August when the Autumn Moon was at it's largest and fullest. While Otsukimi is still held as tradition, Komorebi has also adopted monthly moon viewings, with larger public parties held once every four months to celebrate the four seasons. Otherwise, moon viewings are held privately in the home where family come to visit and enjoy a meal together under the full moon. The whole community comes together for the seasonal moon viewings, gathering on the snowy mountain in the winter, the riverside in the spring, the town square in the summer, and in the imperial gardens during the fall. Many tourists visit during these seasonal moon viewings to really get a taste of Komorebi culture.

Forgotten Hollow

While the world tends to hold parties during the full moon, the vampires of the Eighth Bastion have their parties on the New Moon instead. The Darkest Night, held each month, is when vampires revel in their strongest powers and dawn their dark forms. Blood wine is consumed, and many of the bolder vampires go hunting for fresh prey to drink. This is also the most popular night for one looking to become a vampire to be turned, as turning into a vampire on The Darkest Night is considered good luck. Various parties are held all through the Hallow, and all are welcome to attend, however the non-vampiric and unprepared might find the gatherings too wild for their liking.

Moonwood Mill

Werewolves are famous for their full body transformations during the full moon, where they lose all rational sense and become beastly monsters. There is no one set tradition for the full moon in Moonwood Mill among the wolf packs. Some hole themselves up in the basement to keep from transforming in the moon's rays. Others embrace their transformations in the deep woods and revel in a night of hunting and animalistic behavior. And there are others who use this opportunity to hunt for the rare Moon Petal, which is said to grow on the highest peak. Regardless, visitors are warned to stay away from the little logging town as the moon waxes full.

Sulani

The peaceful islands of Sulani tend to celebrate the full moon in many ways. There are neighborhood potlucks, luaus, bonfire parties, and fishing tournaments held all through the night until the moon sets. However, everyone in Sulani comes to lay on the beach and moonbathe during the full moon, much like sunbathing during the day. The Sixam aliens have done this to feel close to their ancestral planet far away, while the Sulani natives use it to cool their bodies and restore their natural energy. Depending on which beach those who attend go to, there could be a wild party or a peaceful moonbathing session. In recent years, some locals have started yoga sessions on the beach under the light of the full moon to regain a peaceful mind and positive energy.

Glimmerbrook

The full moon is the popular time for those in the WhiteTree Coven to pilgrimage to the White Tree itself and seek guidance and purified crystals for wands and brooms. Spellcaster magic is at its strongest during the full moon, so it is when the Raven's Roost Academy sets up magic show cases for the public to marvel at. The first Winter Full Moon is also Final Test night for the Academy, while the first Spring Full Moon is Initiation Night into the coven for graduates. While these events are held privately to the coven, a full moon party is held at the base of the mountain lake where everyone can swim and bask in the moon's glow. These parties are popular with teenagers, where all are invited and the celebrations typically don't stop until the sun comes up.

Willow Creek

Ever the connected community where there is no barrier between the people and the royal family, Willow Creek celebrates the full moon together in the central park. The Braieforma family hires or mans booths filled with food, toys, and various mementos as everyone enjoys a massive garden party. The event is popular with families with small children, and the wide open park is deemed safe with everyone watching out for each other. It's said to be the best way for anyone looking to meet those in the Alliance as everyone gathers for these festivals.

Tomorang

The Island of Children has kept it's tradition since olden times where the Mid Autumn Full Moon is celebrated as Children's Day. The Children's Festival is held at the night market where children were bright traditional clothes and carry lanterns in a parade. Families come together to see their children perform dances and sing songs, and the elders cook up entire feasts for the community to enjoy. There are brightly lit floats of lions and dragons, and mooncakes with tiger patterns are given out as good luck presents. While a festive time for family, many communities in Tomorang do not welcome outsiders, or those with no children, to the party.

Many places around the world hold garden parties or festivals around the full moon in similar ways. But the moon has always connected the royal family to their heritage, and the people to the royal family. These parties have been the best way for new royal members to socialize, and even find new friendships or love. The events surrounding the full moon will always remind each and every one of us that we are all under the same sky, sharing the moon that shines down on us as it always has and always will.

[invisfruniture]

5 Reasons To Invest In An Extendable Dining Table

An extendable dining table is a table that can expand to fit more people when necessary while still maintaining its compact size. They provide much-needed versatility in small homes. Here at Invis Furniture, our tables do more than merely extend; they are multipurpose and can serve a variety of functions for a variety of occasions.

Why do you need it?

1. Perfect for smaller spaces

With how small HDB apartments are becoming in Singapore, a valuable lesson we learned during the pandemic was the importance of having enough space. The sudden implementation of work-from-home policies and home-based learning initiatives sent many people into a frenzy trying to find space at home to adapt.

However, it makes little sense to purchase a large table if we only utilize the extra space occasionally. A convertible table, such as the Bento Console Dining Table, can collapse into a small console that can be tucked away as decor or easily transformable into a 10-seater large table at any time.

This means there’s plenty of table space to work on projects or accommodate more people. When in its compact form, it can also provide more space.

2. Family bonding

We rarely get to spend time with our family members because everyone is preoccupied with work, school, or personal activities. As a result, we frequently spend our mealtimes in front of the TV or on our phones, and in many cases, in front of our computers as we work. According to research studies, doing so puts people at risk for obesity and various illnesses brought on by an unsanitary workspace. But more importantly, we ought to make mealtimes a special time to bond and catch up with one another, strengthening relationships and bringing families closer together.

3. Saving money on meals out

Since it is now possible to host larger gatherings at home, you’ll end up saving money on eating out at expensive restaurants by instead cooking or ordering in. There will also be no need to travel to and from the event, resulting in spending less money in the long run. Not to mention that everyone can feel comfortable and at ease in the private space of your home, simply enjoying themselves.

4. Multifunctional — Not just for dining

An extendable dining table has more applications than its name suggests. It may serve as a workspace, a craft table, or even a table for recreational games. The X Bar and T Bar Coffee Dining Tables at Invis can be raised to accommodate up to 10 diners during a formal setting or lowered as a coffee table that sits elegantly in front of the sofa to set beverages and snacks on for a movie night.

5. Futureproofing

An extendable table is great for adapting to any future changes, whether they be unanticipated or planned. There is no need to be concerned about not having enough seats for meals if you have plans to expand the family or have guests stay the night. Check out this extendable Bento Bench that goes perfectly with our tables.

If where you’re staying now is not your forever home, or if you plan to relocate in the future, an extendable table can be compact and take up less space in the moving van, making moving day less stressful.

Conclusion

To sum it up, an extendable table would be a great investment as it can be adjusted to meet your needs at any time. It adapts to suit a variety of events, from an intimate night in to large dinner parties, making it stress-free to accommodate last-minute gatherings and unexpected visitors.

Invis Furniture specializes in space-saving furniture. Our furniture pieces are not only minimalistic but also functional in design. They are also available in a variety of colours that will easily match the style of your home. Check out our website for a complete list of the products we carry, and feel free to send us any questions!

[khwaabgaah]

How to Choose Your Homestay in Tirthan Valley

Situated at the core of Himachal Pradesh, Tirthan Valley is an undiscovered treasure trove that one can dive into to enjoy the glory of nature. Selecting the correct Homestay in Tirthan Valley can largely tune your experience and let you enjoy your stay comfortably and pleasurably. This guide will show the steps of choosing the best homestay for your Tirthan Valley Adventure so as to make sure that your vacation is nothing but perfect.

Location Matters

The location of your homestay in Tirthan Valley can tremendously alter the kind of experience you acquire. whereas other homestays are positioned in places that are characterized by remote distances, providing people tranquility and rare chances to be in one with nature. The adventurous ones could be close to nearby villages or tourist destinations, making it convenient to check out these Things to Do in Tirthan Valley. Think about what you would like to do while you are here and choose a place that will boost your adventure, whether hiking, fishing, or simply enjoying the beauty of the valley.

Amenities and Comfort

If the thought of a rugged homestay with its humble amenities is alluring, you should not forget to check it out for the basic amenities you might need. Opt for Homestays in Tirthan Valley that assure you of quality bedding, clean bathrooms, and decent food. While staying in a Veg Homestay Tirthan Valley, you should let them know your specific needs like Wi-Fi connectivity or Veg options in advance. Comfort is not about luxury, but having a soft clean mattress to lay after a day of running around will make you feel much better.

Engage with the Hosts

Very often the best homestay experience is the one that blends together and creates a feeling of warmth and hospitality. Communicating with them beforehand can make you understand and ready for what to expect. The main thing is that the responsive hosts are willing to give information about the best places to stay in Tirthan Valley and even share tips on things to do there. They always try to make your stay memorable. It is also possible that this communication can help you get the gist of the homestay's mood and determine whether or not it is up to your expectations.

Reviews and Recommendations

Among the best things you can do to ensure you are selecting the correct homestay is to read reviews from guests who have stayed before. Websites and social media networks provide information to help you see your future. Try to find comments on hospitality, food, and cleanliness of the premises as well as the helpfulness of the host. Communication with friends or travel forums might be helpful, too. They can share their experiences and advice on the Best Homestay in Tirthan Valley, according to your personal interests and requirements.

Conclusion

The best homestay to best suit you is to find a balance between comfort, location, amenities, and personal touch from the hosts. With this information, you can find a homestay that will grant your wishes and even contribute to your joyful Tirthan Valley experience. For a seamless and delightful experience, consider booking your stay at https://www.khwaabgaah.com/, the exclusive establishment that combines nature and hospitality to give the visitors a perfect break away from the stressed mind into the stunning and relaxing scenes of Tirthan Valley.

[jacoroyale1-blog]

How Jaco Beach Rentals can Help You Have the Best Vacation Experience in Costa Rica?

Jaco is a beautiful coastal town in Costa Rica located over an hour from the city of San Jose. The vacation beach rentals in Jaco, Costa Rica, are a perfect place for your family to relax and unwind after a day of exploration. Jaco offers a wide variety of beach rentals for families and groups of visitors. These rentals will be perfect for your stay in Costa Rica. Let us see how these vacation rentals will offer you the best vacation experience and why it is the best option for a vacation stay.

The vacation beach rentals in Jaco, Costa Rica, will give you memories that you will cherish for a lifetime. The rental properties are equipped with state-of-the-art amenities that suit the preferences of all visitors. You can find villas, mansions, and condos based in the best locations that provide a panoramic view of the ocean. They are equipped with pools, bars, Jacuzzis, etc. Party areas offer a perfect combination of bartenders, chefs, and DJs that can help you host the perfect party for your family and friends.

Family-Friendly Accommodations

The beach town of Jaco has plenty of family-friendly accommodations to choose from. These rentals offer all the comforts of home with the added benefits of being just steps away from the beach and even the best attractions for Jaco. You can get everything from cozy bedroom condos to spacious villas that can accommodate large families.

Fun Activities

Jaco Beach rentals are a great destination for families as they offer a wide variety of fun and educational activities. You can take part in a guided tour of national parks to see exotic birds and other wildlife in their natural habitat. You can also take surfing lessons or go horseback riding on the beach while enjoying the stunning scenery. You can spend the day relaxing on the beach while your kids build sandcastles and play with waves. Your family can complete the day with a delightful stroll to one of the family-friendly restaurants and have a delicious meal together.

Easy Access to Other Attractions

One of the major advantages of staying in a beach rental is that they have easy access to other attractions. Most of these restaurants are close to other popular attractions in Costa Rica. The town is home to some of the most beautiful beaches and rainforests. You can visit foreign reserves where you can witness rare wildlife and plant species.

Jaco’s beach rentals boast an amazing array of luxury properties, which are a perfect palace for you to relax. You can find everything from small houses to luxury beach villas and condos, ideal for families and small groups. You can enjoy the comfort of a fully air-conditioned beachfront home where you can enjoy outdoor grilling, intimate gatherings, and large pools, thus getting the ultimate vacation relaxation. You can choose luxury homes that are located right on the beach that look out across the South Pacific.

To Sum Up

So, if you are looking for the best Costa Rica vacation destination that has something for everyone in the family, then Jaco Beach Rentals could be your perfect destination. They offer family-friendly accommodations, easy access to other attractions, and fun adventures, thus making it an ideal place to make memories for a lifetime.

[williammori]

Advice To Generate Unique, Successful Online Marketing Campaigns

What makes an internet business successful? There are many components to achieving a successful business, and the methods depend on the needs of your business. If you are just starting out, get as much advice as you can from seasoned internet marketers by reading about some of their ideas. You can begin by reading the article here.

It's one thing getting people to come to your site, but remember that's only part of the process. You have to make your site look interesting and engaging so viewers will feel comfortable viewing the products on display. People want to feel safe and secure when they buy their products online, and a well structured site gives off the right kind of vibes.

The more original content your web site has, the more appealing it will be to visitors. Try to make sure that you have as much or more content than your competitors and be sure to add new content on a regular basis. Search engines will rank your site more highly if you regularly offer fresh content.

Keep your sentences short and to the point. An average sentence will be in the range of 13-16 words. If you are including a lot of unneeded information in a post,buy facebook accounts, you will lose your readers attention. Keep it clear and precise, in order to make an impression on your viewers.

If you are trying to put out your product on the internet, it is important that your internet site does not get lost in statistics. You must always keep in mind that the main point of your internet site is to catch your visitors attention. You must not bog your site down with too much data.

If you plan on changing something drastic in your website, warn your current subscribers. There is never anything as frustrating for a consumer as visiting a favorite page just to have to relearn how to navigate it. Plan ahead for changes, and allow your readers to do so as well.

Revisit ideas you have decided against, again and again. If a form of marketing was not right for your budding business a year ago, that does not mean it will still be that way today. Remember to attempt to take advantage of as many marketing tools as you can, including those that you initially disliked.

Is your company doing everything it can to present a cohesive and trustworthy image to potential customers? Your internet marketing efforts will not be fruitful until you build a very solid image. Your website should contain a mission statement and a privacy policy at the bare minimum, although extensive testimonials are also a wonderful idea.

Resist the temptation to sell your products with false scarcity! Never tell customers that only a certain number of sales will be made unless it is true. Especially when it comes to downloadable products, the idea of limited availability will be absurd to the potential customer. Stay ethical when you tell customers how many sales you can make.

While it is true that a lot of Internet marketers are able to advertise their sites and products without spending money at all, this is something that is incredibly rare. Blog businesses hosted on free sites that make 50k a year are pretty much dying off. You will need to invest some money, if only for a legitimate website and some keyword campaigns.

The development of your website is going to play a big role in the success or failure that you have. If it is not user friendly and easy to navigate through, you are not going to get readers to stick around on your site for long or return in the future.

When deciding on quality websites to become linking partners with, avoid competitors. Pick sites that will be useful to visitors of your own site. Look for sites with resource pages that provide quality content of high interest to visitors you would like to attract. You can find possible sites by searching for keywords that your customers would use to find you.

Build your social networking base of customers by offering to give something away. Whether it's something physical or a downloadable ebook, customers will be happy to have an opportunity to win something for free. This way you will have followers or friends, through social networking sites, like Facebook or Twitter.

Get blogging to keep your content on top! Take the time to start a blog and engage people about your business. Not only is this great public relations, lead generation and opportunities to place your links but keeping conversations going will give your site more authority with search engines. Blogging is the ultimate marketing machine for every Internet presence and should be a priority for yours.

Don't expect visitors to buy items,buy linkedin accounts, convince them to! You can't just post a list of the products you want for Christmas and expect that your visitors will blindly agree and buy them all. You should write an explanation of why you want each item, detail its use, include a photo, and mention any customer reviews that exist.

If you're starting a blog to go along with your website and/or business, you need to make sure that the blog is related to what you're doing. Starting a blog about how crazy your dog is while attempting to sell software products doesn't leave you much room to tie things in together.

Use terms like "guaranteed" and "money back," in your marketing campaigns. Customers like knowing that you stand behind your product enough to offer a guarantee that they will be satisfied. It will also help people who are on the fence about purchasing your product, go ahead and take the leap, since they feel they can return it if they aren't happy.

Internet marketing is not difficult to comprehend, if you take the time to learn. You need to be willing to take risks by trying new ideas. If you are not reaping good results from one method, then try another. Internet marketing is dynamic, and you need to be committed to learning all the time. If have this attitude, you will see success in your business.

[kroashent]

*Val's Notes: There is presumably a way to reply multiple times to the same message, but I don't know how yet. This is in reply to @askmitchelltf's original "Ask Kroashent" question, as follows:

"To the cast, Do you often stay as guests to nobles, and if so, what are the weirdest OTHER guests."

Gwae: "

With gifts of earth, sea and Sky, I invoke the right of hospitality… Small words, aye, but right powerful. The right of hospitality is one of the strongest ere-hud out there. It is traditional to make a gift of Bread (earth), salt (sea) and honey (land). Chou hen is a popular substitute here in Letha, a drink made with cider and honey that’ll get ye ossified right quick. Even Bediz without a lock of the hud find that hospitality has power in Alvez. It will protect visitors and hosts from most harm, unless yer dealin’ with a cute hoor who’s got a mind for a bres’s Feast, then yer on the tenterhooks, but that doesn’t happen much. The guild gives me a lot of options when I travel. Taverns, noble houses, Korrigan troupes. Loads of craic while on the road! The strangest guest? Aye, once I stayed at an inn where a man was walking about with his shoes on the wrong feet and his clothes inside out. He boiled water in eggshells. I think he thought I was a changeling, even though I told him straight out I was a child of Danu. He was a rare fellow and a bit of a tosser."

[suddencolds]

Untrustworthy | Genshin Impact

This is a 3k word commission for anon! (I admittedly wrote over the commissioned word count).

Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your kind message 😭This fic was surprisingly very challenging to write, so I’m sorry for the wait; I hope you enjoy! 

Requested prompt: 

I want Diluc completely miserable with a cold. As much mess as you're ok with. Still trying to function. Until Kaeya can't stand watching anymore and inserts himself as caregiver.

—

It’s subtle at first. Diluc turns away from making a drink to cough tightly into an elbow. Diluc’s gaze pulls uneven as he ducks forward with a barely stifled sneeze into a handkerchief he’s been keeping in his coat pocket. Diluc—when he thinks no one is watching—leans a bit too heavily against the countertop, bracing himself with one arm, and lifts the other hand to massage his temples. as if he’s attempting to drive away a headache that he’s had all afternoon.

It would be unnoticeable, except Kaeya pays more attention than people give him credit for. It would be unnoticeable, except Kaeya is aware that a cold has been making its rounds through the Knights, many of which frequent the tavern—one severe enough to prompt Jean to actually take a sick day, for once, one that seems especially severe this winter and—judging by the absences in his ranks this last week—difficult to avoid.

Diluc doesn’t fall ill often, Kaeya knows. Even now he barely looks unwell, save for the faint flush of his cheeks, the exhaustion disrupting his usually-perfect posture, the sneezes that he keeps stifling into almost-silence.

Either he’s at the start of his cold—before it’s had a chance to get really bad—or he’s putting in an inordinate amount of effort to hide it.

Kaeya suspects it might be both.

“Master Diluc,” he says, when Diluc conveniently stops by one of the tables next to him with drinks. “When does your shift end?”

Diluc’s shoulders stiffen, though he doesn’t turn around to address Kaeya properly. “Three hours from now.” he says, frowning. “if you intend to involve me in one of your late-night arrangements…”

“Oh? Not this time,“ Kaeya says. He lifts his wine to take a sip. “Even if I were, I think perhaps I would have reconsidered.”

“And why is that?”

Diluc says it flatly—unaffectedly—but he only has the luxury of keeping up that act for a few seconds before he’s ducking into his shoulder with a perfectly silenced stifle. It’s such a seamless performance, neatly contained and expertly quiet—really, Kaeya deems himself unworthy.

“Bless you,” he says, though Diluc scoffs, swipes the empty glasses from the table he’s serving, and starts off toward his usual spot behind the counter. “I do hope you are not falling ill, master Diluc.”

Diluc sets the glasses down on the countertop, diligently averting his glance. “I’m fine.”

“Is that so?” At Diluc’s silence, he presses on. “Perhaps you should close up early, just in case. You look like you could use some rest.”

“No need,” Diluc says. “It’s just— “Hiih… hiIIH-nGK-t! Hiih… HIiIH…-!!.... hiIIh-GKt!” The sneezes snap him forward, his shoulders trembling with the motion. He straightens with an almost imperceptible shiver. “—just dust, snf. Perhaps the Knights would be more efficient if you put more time into work instead of investigating less…” Diluc looks to him at last, his jaw tightly set. “...pressing matters.”

“Ah.” Kaeya laughs. “So eager to get rid of me?”

“Your concern is unnecessary. I already intend to close up earlier than usual.”

That’s surprising, to say the least—Diluc usually never cancels plans to suit himself. “So you really aren’t feeling well,” Kaeya says, suddenly worried. If it’s so bad that even Diluc is closing up early...

He must not be doing a good job keeping the concern off his face, because Diluc just scoffs dismissively, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not that.” He coughs softly into his raised elbow. “I have somewhere to be.”

“Hmm, to think you said no late night excursions...”

“There’s a banquet tomorrow that I’m expected to attend.”

And yet he won't be closing up for another few hours. And yet he’s here, with the start of a cold, looking exhausted and unwell, and still—for reasons Kaeya can’t fathom—he intends to work late into the night and then spend the entire day tomorrow at some pretentious social event. Kaeya knows that having to entertain strangers is exhausting to Diluc even on regular occasions. He also knows that whatever Diluc is coming down with is unlikely to resolve itself in just a night’s rest.

“For the winery?” he asks. “My, such impressive dedication to the business… surely you can send Elzer on your behalf?”

Diluc’s shoulders tense in a way that suggests that he is as reluctant about attending as Kaeya expected. “I can’t. The host requested my presence.”

“At the very least,” Kaeya says, “You should close up a bit earlier.” He glances over his shoulder to peer through the first floor windows. It’s dark outside—too dark to come to any conclusions, but earlier today, the sky had been too heavy, the air prickling with humidity, the clouds overhead sprawling and dark. “It wouldn’t do you any good to get caught up in the rain.”

“The rain is of no consequence to me,” Diluc says, in the kind of tone that suggests that he doesn’t intend to close up early at all.

“Even with a cold?” “I don’t have a cold.”

Kaeya shrugs.  “Well, if you’re certain.” He pushes his mug forward so that it rests on the countertop, right within Diluc’s reach, and counts the mora out beside it. “Goodnight, Diluc.”

He turns on his heels. Years ago, he might’ve stayed longer. He might’ve insisted for Diluc to take care of himself and not left his side until he had.

But it’s been years. Diluc left, and Kaeya tried to muster up the pieces of himself that had existed independent of him—he’d taught himself how to lie, tricked himself into believing that the person he’d trusted most hadn’t left him—and now even though Diluc is back, sometimes it feels as if Kaeya barely knows him at all.

If Diluc won’t take care of himself, then that’s his prerogative. It’s stopped being Kaeya’s problem a long time ago.

—

Kaeya has every intention of leaving Diluc alone.

That is, until he’s at the Knights’ headquarters, listening in on a conversation that he doesn’t quite mean to eavesdrop on but hasn’t gone out of his way not to avoid.

“He keeps taking our work,” one of the Knights says. “It’s awful. Last time we spent all our time finding this one domain—Fatui territory, alright? We had a whole expedition team ready to scout out the domain the next day. Then the next day, we get there and the place is abandoned. Everything’s been scorched. Must’ve been a pyro user.” “How do you know it was him?”

“Trust me, you’d know. How many pyro visions are there in Teyvat? It’s like the legends say. He doesn’t leave any room unturned. He’s more thorough than a team of our men put together.”

“Gentlemen,” Kaeya says loudly, smiling when they startle and turn to look at him in synchronicity. “What are you talking about?”

“The Darknight Hero,” one of the knights offers haltingly. “Last night he took down one of the Fatui strongholds we were planning to deal with. Talk about an annoyance, huh?”

“Oh? How heroic. It seems he lives up to his title,” Kaeya says. His mind is reeling. Diluc? But last night, Diluc had been working late. He’d gone home right after, hadn’t he? It wouldn’t make sense for him to be out last night. Unless, of course...

He would really, really like to believe that Diluc’s self-preservation instincts are better than that.

“I’ve been saying,” says another knight. “We were supposed to be scouting out the area right now. Chances are, there will be nothing left there that’s of any use to us.”

“Seeing as we have nothing to do today,” the first knight says, his expression hardening, “maybe we can conduct a search party for the Darknight Hero instead. See what he has to say about withholding information from the Knights.”

“Let’s not be too hasty here,” Kaeya cuts in, before the other Knights have a chance to offer their assent. “It’s unlikely that the Darknight Hero would be out during the day, isn’t it? Rest assured, I’ll make sure that it’s looked into. In the meantime, have you asked the Acting Grandmaster for a new assignment?”

The knight in question falters. “No, but…”

Kaeya smiles pointedly at him—the kind of vicious smile that, around knights and strangers alike, never fails to intimidate. “Then perhaps you should get to it, don’t you think?”

He waits until he’s sure they’ll be busy with something else. Maybe they’re mistaken. Maybe Diluc had gone to scout out the area on some previous occasion, and the Knights are only now paying witness to his usual efficiency.

Or maybe Diluc has forgone a night of rest in lieu of playing hero to Mondstadt in the pouring rain. And now he’s at a banquet somewhere, with a miserable cold that he’s most likely intent on telling himself he doesn’t have.

It’s been awhile since Kaeya’s been to a banquet. He misses the alcohol, the music, the extravagant decorations. It’s easy enough to tell himself that that’s the reason why he’s going.

—

It’s not difficult to get in. Kaeya is well-acquainted with having to sweet talk his way into lowering someone’s defenses.

Inside the banquet hall, it’s crowded. It is as pretentious a setup as it gets—visitors wearing suits and ballroom gowns, walls adorned with streamers and gold plaques, tables laid out with refreshments of all sorts. The building it’s being held in has at least two floors and too many side rooms to count.

He spots Diluc from across the room—red hair is rare enough that he’s not easy to miss. Diluc is currently engaging in conversation with someone Kaeya hasn’t seen before.

It’s likely that Diluc has found the person who explicitly requested his presence—probably someone with a business deal that he thinks warrants a personal talk with the owner of Dawn Winery. If Kaeya interrupts Diluc while he’s negotiating some sort of once-in-a-lifetime deal, Diluc will never let him live it down. So instead, he grabs a drink as an excuse to get closer and stands a few tables away to listen in.

Up close, Diluc’s cold is practically impossible to miss. His clothes look freshly ironed, but his hair is still damp at the tips—he’s changed into dry clothes, then, but his wet hair seems to only confirm the hypothesis that he was, in fact, scouting out domains last night in the rain instead of getting a wink of sleep. Diluc has always been pale, but now there’s a flush high on his cheeks that Kaeya thinks could only be a result of an impending fever. He is standing with his arms crossed—a last attempt to keep warm, perhaps—with a handkerchief gripped loosely in one hand. Faint shivers break the line of his shoulders.

Kaeya feels a pang in his chest. Diluc looks…

Kaeya watches as Diluc twists away with a soft apology and a wrenching sneeze that snaps him forward at the waist.

...miserable.

“That was merely my expectation,” the man says. “Crepus and I were business partners, do you know that? You don’t seem like the type of person who would choose this profession. I am sure your priorities lie elsewhere.”

Diluc clears his throat. “I have no qualms against upholding the family business.” His voice—though usually smooth and mellifluous—has taken on a rough edge to it, as if from overuse.

“Of course, I didn’t mean to suggest otherwise,” the man says. “I am sure you’re aware of your options, no? You could make a fortune selling off the winery if you so desired.”

“If you are...” Diluc starts, though his sentence is punctuated by a soft, desperate gasp, and he turns away just in time, ducking into his handkerchief. “hiIh…. Hiih… hiih’GKt—CHhiiew! Snf-!” His eyes stay shut in anticipation, the grip tightening around the handkerchief as his shoulders jerk with another sharp intake of breath.  “Hiih… Hiiih… Iiih’DZsshh-iu! haAHH’iIKTch-iIIew!” he sniffles wetly, barely suppressing a violent shiver.

“If you are here to gauge whether or not I intend to sell the winery, I can assure you that I do not,” he says, quieter than usual.

“Ah, of course, just a question.” The man leans forward, lowers his voice. “Truthfully, I am more interested in a partnership. It’s come to my attention that you have an excess of wine sitting in the winery’s cellars. If you can get me the amount of Dandelion Wine I need at a discounted price, I can sell it down in Liyue for a profit.”

“I have no interest in expanding the business any further,” Diluc says. “The excess will sell out easily in the spring when demand rises for Windblume.”

“I urge you to give it some consideration. Dandelion Wine is a specialty to Mondstadt. Think about the profitability of expanding to somewhere where dandelions are hard to come by,“ the man says. “You could stand to double or even triple the prices per bottle. I am only asking to take a fraction of your stock, see? Ten percent would be enough.”

He says it as if ten percent isn’t anything substantial, but Kaeya can’t help but think that there’s something wrong here—both with the presentation of the offer and with its suddenness. From here, Diluc’s expression is unreadable—it betrays only slight discomfort when he turns to the side, muffling harsh, forceful coughs into his suit sleeve, and murmurs a reflexive apology. No hesitation—not the slightest hint of wariness—even though the Diluc Kaeya remembers wouldn’t agree to raising prices so drastically without good reason.

“I can handle all transportation and deliver the profits to you in a few months,” the man presses on, interpreting Diluc’s untelling silence as interest. “My associates have done research on the market in Liyue and where it would be best to sell. You wouldn’t have to do anything differently from your end. All that I ask is for you to trust me with the first shipment and compensate me fairly after I handle the marketing and transportation.”

Diluc sniffles. “Forgive me,” he says, bracing himself with one hand against the table behind him as he ducks forward violently into a raised arm.  “hiIh’nGKT-chhiEW! HIih… I do n-not… hhH… Hiih-! hiIH’iiikT-CHhiew! Sdf-! Ugh… hiIIH’NGKT-CHhiew!” He leans slightly into his side, and though the gesture is well-disguised, Kaeya can tell just how much he’s bracing his weight on the table. It’s concerning, to say the least. Is he really too tired to stand upright? “...I do not expect to give out so much wine without a proper assessment of the risk. If you believe the model to be profitable, you are free to… t-to… hh-! to purchase…. hiIH… haAA’iiKTT-CHh!-u! hiIh’iiiTSSHhh’uh! snf-!” The congestion in his voice is evident in all of his consonants, and his gaze flickers down to his handkerchief in unspoken desperation, though Kaeya suspects he’s too polite to blow his nose in front of a business partner.

“...You are free to purchase wine at the same rate as I offer other corporate partners. I cannot - coughcough - I cannot offer such a large first-time shipment for free based on only an assumption that it will be successful.”

Kaeya can see the exact moment the smugness drops off of the man’s face. His eyes harden at Diluc’s hesitation, his practiced smile shifting into the approximation of a sneer.

“An assumption? You don’t trust my ability to see the operation through to the end?” He says, still in the same polite, haughty tone of his. “As a long-time associate of your father, I would have thought I would have earned your trust as well. Unless, of course, you simply don’t agree with Crepus’s assessments?”

Kaeya can see the way Diluc’s jaw tightens at the query. He clears his throat softly, though the brief wince that follows suggests that the action is far from painless.  

“His vision for the company is - snf - very important to me,” he says simply.

The man waves a flippant hand. “Or perhaps once he left, you decided you knew better? I mean, you have grown up so much, so I’m sure you feel more than capable of handling his affairs, regardless of whether or not you’re doing it his way. I don’t blame you.”

As the man turns around to pour himself a drink, Kaeya sees a flash of blue and gold tucked into his suit pocket. It takes him another moment to realize what it is.

A Fatui sergeant’s insignia—for identification purposes, or just a habit, likely.

This man isn’t a business partner of Crepus’s at all.

Now, the man wheels around, holding one drink in each hand. Alcohol, clearly—though it sparkles, faintly red. “Ah, well. I can’t say I’m not disappointed, but your decisions are understandable. A friend of mine has been working on a drink that mixes certain Liyuen specialties and Dandelion Wine—would you give it a try?”

“I don’t drink,” Diluc says haltingly.

“Just a sip wouldn’t hurt,” the man says, raising an eyebrow. “If you are anything like Crepus, you must have developed quite the refined taste when it comes to wine. Perhaps you could speak for the quality?”

“I’m sorry,” Diluc says quietly. “I am… Hiih… f-feeling… hH…. hiIih’iIKT-chHIew! Sdf!... slightly under the weather.” Kaeya blinks at him, disbelieving. Such an outright admission is practically unheard of, when it comes to Diluc—but then again, it’s a convenient excuse, and Kaeya is not under the impression that he really knows him. Diluc lifts a hand to his face, sniffling hard. “I’m afraid I would not be able to taste it.”

“You state the obvious,” the man drawls, and Diluc’s shoulders hunch slightly as he turns his face away, his cheeks reddening slightly. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons why I recommended this drink. It’s made with Jueyun chilis. Should be good for clearing up a cold.”

“Is that so?” Diluc says, still frowning.

“Perhaps you could speak to its efficacy?”

Slowly—hesitantly—Diluc lifts the glass. The man watches him like a hawk—too eagerly, if anything. Kaeya presumes that he either wants Diluc poisoned or too intoxicated not to be swayed, and hauling home a Diluc who can’t hold his own sounds like more than he’s signed up for, so now would be a good time to interfere. Diluc can be mad at him later.

Kaeya, for all he’s attempted over the years, has plenty of practice making his entrances as obnoxiously showy as possible.

“My, my,” he says, striding in with a drink in hand to settle right next to Diluc. “The esteemed owner of the Dawn Winery.” Just for the way Diluc grimaces at the title, his eyebrows furrowing, he decides this intervention has been worth it. “And… who’s this?”

Diluc veers away from Kaeya to stifle—a soft, near-silent stifle that must be exhausting to suppress.

“A business partner,” the man answers through gritted teeth.

“Must be a busy job,” Kaeya says, snatching Diluc’s drink out of his hand and setting it down on the table behind him. “Given, of course, that you have two.” He takes an efficient step forward and swipes the insignia out of the so-called business partner’s pocket.

“I do wonder why the Fatui would be so interested in the Dawn Winery,” he says calmly, ignoring the man’s indignant yelp of protest. He turns the insignia over in his hands, contemplative. “Did you really think the owner of the largest wine business in Mondstadt would be so easy to scam?”

The sergeant swears. “You asshole—!”

Kaeya reaches for the sword tucked into his belt. He knows it wouldn’t be a fair fight, seeing that the man seems very much unarmed, but it’s as good as anything as a threat. “I don’t suppose you’ll try this again?” he says. “I can’t claim to be the best swordsman in Mondstadt—that title goes to the previous cavalry captain, but maybe tonight I can come in second.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh? Do you want to find out if I am?”

“No,” the agent says. “I wasn’t finished having my conversation.”

“Well, what a shame.” Kaeya doesn’t wait for him to think of a response. He takes Diluc’s arm and turns abruptly to haul Diluc towards the exit.

Diluc goes along easily enough. It’s only when they get outside that the frustration—from watching Diluc push himself, stubbornly, to this extent—boils over.

“Diluc,” he says, turning on his heels. “Really? After a late night shift at the tavern, your first thought was to forgo rest to spend all night scouting out a Fatui domain? In the rain, for that matter?”

Diluc turns away, his expression unchanging. “That’s not worth mentioning.”

“Perhaps you’d claim that attending a banquet directly afterwards is not worth mentioning, either? Your hair’s still wet. And that encounter with the Fatui sergeant—what’s gotten into you? Since when have you been so careless?”

He’s almost certain Diluc can hear the unspoken accusation behind it. This isn’t like you. Diluc is hasty—he has a tendency to overestimate himself and involve himself in situations he knows will be dangerous—but he isn’t careless.

“—I knew he wasn’t one of Crepus’s associates.” Diluc explains, with a soft, liquid sniffle. He turns away, lifting an arm to his face. “I would’ve - hhihH-!! - snf, I would’ve recognized him if he were, sdf.” his eyes drift shut; he buries his face into his suit sleeve, sniffling. “Crepus made it a point to… hiIh…-! hIIIh… to introduce him to everyone he - HIiIIih… sdf-!! ...Everyone he worked closely with.”

“Is that so?” Kaeya says, but it’s not enough. “Then why did you entertain him?”

Diluc is quiet for a moment. When Kaeya looks over, it’s to a dazed, bleary expression before he ducks harshly into his raised elbow with a forceful, “hiIh’nNGKT-chHIEw! hiIH’IITCHh-chhUU!! Snf-!”

He doesn’t lift his elbow from his face. “I w-wanted… snf-! more -  hiIh-!...information,” he says. “If I were to know more about what he was planning, it would make it easier for me to find any fraudulent - hiIih-!! Snf-! - transactions in the company’s history if I knew what to - hIih-hiIh’iIKTch-IIiu! Excuse me… snf-! -to look for.”

“Bless you. There are better ways to do that,” Kaeya says. “No need to do it when you’re evidently unwell.”

Diluc peeks out from behind his arm, which he still hasn’t lowered from his face. His face is flushed up to his ears—easy enough to dismiss as fever, though Kaeya knows that’s not all there is to it.

Diluc has always been embarrassed about admitting weakness. Kaeya sighs, fishes through his own pockets for a spare handkerchief.

“I have to say, Diluc,” he says, holding out the handkerchief — which Diluc accepts hurriedly, turning away to clean up whatever mess he’s made of his sleeve - “My weekends would be much less eventful -”

“hiiihh’GKTTt-CHh’yyew! snf-!”

“- if I could trust you to look after yourself,” Kaeya finishes, raising an eyebrow. “Bless you, by the way.”

“I know my limits,” Diluc says.

Kaeya huffs a sigh. “But you don’t honor them, do you?”

Diluc frowns, looking away. “I would have been fine if you hadn’t showed up.”

Kaeya stares at him. It’s half in disbelief, half in exasperation—but Diluc has always been like this, hasn’t he? Insistent on his own self-sufficiency. Hesitant to admit he might, in any way, be infallible.

I would’ve been fine.

“You always are,” he says finally, with a smile that he doesn’t mean.

If Diluc so diligently insists on refusing his help, perhaps Kaeya should take a hint. Mondstadt is a half hour away—less, if he hurries. He quickens his pace. It’s fortunate, he thinks, that the rain stopped early this morning, after—

Diluc grabs his arm.

Kaeya wheels around, suddenly worried that Diluc might be feeling much worse than he’d let on, but Diluc’s expression betrays nothing as he lowers his hand to his side.

“Thank you,” he says—a soft, private admission.

Kaeya clears his throat, waves a dismissive hand. “I assure you, I have plenty more handkerchiefs.”

“No,” Diluc says quietly, looking away. “Not just for that.”

[bangtann-bangdamn]

Summary: All you wanted was a quiet place to study. Instead, you’re initiated into a host club after breaking a vase worth thirty-one million won

Pairing: OT7 x female reader

Genre: Slice of life, school AU, humour

Prompt: Ouran Highschool Host Club inspired

Word count: 1.4k

AN: I’ve wanted to write an Ouran inspired fic for a while but I didn’t know what to do with it. So this was the perfect excuse to dabble with the idea.

All you wanted was a quiet place to study. Which, considering the price people paid to attend this school, you would have thought that you would be swimming with choices. But apparently paying for an education eliminated any and all need for quiet study areas.

The library, the one place you thought you could count on, was currently home to the debate society who were not only loud but large enough that the three-story library no available tables. And even if you could find a spot, the space was open and all noise seemed to reverberate through the building with such efficiency that you could hear Lee Minho’s cackles from the ground floor.

So you made your way over to the abandoned music corridor. Or, at least, you thought it was abandoned. You had checked the after-school group list several times to make sure no one would be around and nowhere on the sheet did it say that Music room number three was occupied.

That was the only reason why you found yourself standing in front of the large ornate double doors that Tuesday afternoon. If you had known what was on the other side of the doors, you wouldn’t have entered the room with such confidence, letting the door bang against the wall as it swung open and revealed the seven most notorious faces around the school.

Seokjin was the only one with his back to you when you opened the door. He turned slowly and the sun seemed to follow his movements, casting a halo around his form. He smiled as his eyes met yours.

“Ah, I see we have a new visitor. Welcome to Bangtan Sonyeondan.” He stepped forward, his whole body oozing elegance as he stopped in front of you. He frowned as he brushed a strand of your short hair away from your face. “We don’t usually have a lot of guys pass through our doors, but we’re not one to turn away someone in need.”

You were often mistaken as a boy that you had somewhat grown used to it. You had cut your hair short before transferring schools. Not because you wanted short hair, exactly, but because you were tired of maintaining long hair. You had decided it would be much more practical to have short hair that only required a quick brush through in the morning so you could spend more time on your studies.

So hearing Seokjin refer to you as a male wasn’t what had you staring dumbly at them. It was the fact he was speaking directly to you in the first place.

In fact, as Seokjin took your hand and led you over to the rest of his group, your mind whirled to catch up with what was going on.

Seokjin placed his hand on your back and pushed you slightly towards the other guys, who eyed you with mild interest.

“Isn’t that YLN YN? The scholarship student?” Hoseok asked, turning to face Yoongi with a small pout on his face. Hoseok was a fourth-year student who was known for his love of all things cute. He was often found carrying a Kaws teddy with a giant smile on his face. The complete opposite to his best friend.

Yoongi nodded his head as he eyed you with the same lack of expression he was renowned for. The smaller man rarely spoke to anyone other than Hoseok, but half the female population were in love with him for his prowess on the piano.

“Isn’t he in our class?” Taehyung leaned towards Jimin, covering his mouth with his hand as if he were whispering but making no attempt to lower his voice. The pair kept to themselves, rarely engaging in any conversation with anyone except each other unless it was to make a joke. And even then, that had never happened in your time at the school.

Jimin stepped closer towards you, looking down at your clothing. As a scholarship student, you were awarded the benefit of not needing to wear a uniform. It had sounded wonderful when you started. You hated wearing skirts and you found the top button of your shirt always dug into your throat. So you opted to wear loose trousers and a nice baggy jumper to keep you warm. But then you had started and you realised what not wearing a uniform really meant. It was like a neon sign followed you everywhere, indicating that you weren’t even close to the wealth bracket these students came from. And thus, none had ever bothered to get to know you other than the courteous ‘hello’ when you were paired with them for assignments.

“I don’t recognise him…” Jimin trailed off as he got uncomfortably close to your face. You leant back in an attempt to keep some of your personal space.

Namjoon grabbed the back of Jimin’s uniform and pulled him back. “What have we said about invading people’s personal spaces.” Namjoon rolled his eyes as he let Jimin’s uniform go once he was a comfortable distance away from you.

Namjoon, you knew, was a third-year student along with Seokjin. Unlike Seokjin, he wasn’t known for his friendliness with the ladies. Sure, he was still well-loved by the female population of the school, but he was known as the calculating one. He made connections based on what his family needed.

“I’m sorry, I was just looking for a quiet place to study.” You took a step back, throwing your hands up to show that you meant no harm. All you wanted was to leave the room in one piece. Your back bumped into someone, making you jump. You whirled around only to come face to face with Jungkook

“I’m sorry about my hyungs, Yn.” Jungkook’s doe eyes looked at you sweetly, quietly begging you to stay. “They can be a little rude.”

He was the youngest of the group, only a first-year student. But just like the other students, he was well-loved. His family were known martial artists, most of whom belonged to the South Korean militia, but despite their fierce reputation he was known for being an absolute cutie-pie.

You could feel your resolve to high-tail it out of the room dissolve as you stared at him. It was the kind of face that was impossible to say no to.

“Oh, well I didn’t mean to intrude,” You stumbled out, blinking heavily in an attempt to clear your mind.

Seokjin slung his arm over your shoulder as he paid no mind to what you were saying. “Now we have to show our utmost respect, boys, to our lonely soul here. He needs guidance and has sought after our expertise.” You could almost see the stars in his eyes at the mere thought of being needed.

You jumped from his hold as you began to protest. “No, no! That’s not it at all. I’m good! Really!” you insisted no longer paying attention to your surroundings.

Which was probably why you backed straight into a display table hosting an expensive looking vase. One minute you were protesting help, the next you were scrambling after the falling vase in an attempt to catch it.

You never had a chance.

“Oh, Grandma donated that vase.” Taehyung pouted as he gazed forlornly down at the vase’s shattered remains.

“I’m so sorry, I’ll pay for it!” You insisted, reaching for the pocket in your bag with your purse.

“Wasnt that vase worth thirty-one million?” Jimin’s brow rose, barely containing his excitement at the destruction before him.

You blanched at the price. “Thirty-one million?” you repeated, hand freezing from where it held your purse in your bag.

“Oh, the poor dear will never be able to afford that!” Hoseok commented, looking over to Yoongi for confirmation. Yoongi swiftly nodded his head and Hoseok’s attention returned to you. “There must be some other way they can pay?” Hoseok turned towards Namjoon.

They all did. Which was when you knew you weren’t going to like what he said next.

“Hm, I suppose they could work as our lackey. If they worked the remainder of their time here, they should be able to clear their debt. So long as no other accidents occur, that is.” He sent you a pointed look before sighing as Jin waltzed straight back to you.

He spun you around as he sang, “So it’s official. YLN YN, welcome to our host club!”

BGW Drabble Master List

Master List

[chudleycanonficfest]

Rewrite the Stars

Day 7, Post #1 is by @adenei

Title: Rewrite the Stars

Author: adenei

Pairing: Ron/Hermione (Romione)

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: PG 

TW: Depiction of blood purity/discussion of prejudices against Muggleborns, Violence/Murder mentioned (but not graphic)

************

*This fic is inspired not only by the song, but also Anne and Philip's relationship in the movie The Greatest Showman.*

Summary: AU In a world where there’s no Voldemort, but blood purity is strictly enforced, Ron and Hermione must navigate their budding relationship, and all the trials and tribulations that come with it.

********************

“Are you sure this is alright?” Hermione asks as she smooths the front of her dress, checking for wrinkles for the fifth time in as many minutes.

  “Yes, it’s fine! You look beautiful,” Ron assures her.

  He places a warm, comforting hand on the small of her back as they enter the grandiose ballroom where the Auror department is hosting their annual dinner. A handful of Aurors are honored for their achievements, but over the years, it’s turned into an event for the upper classes and Purebloods.

  Hermione knows she doesn’t belong here, amongst the men and women whose wealth and social status put them leagues ahead of anyone else, and it’s rare to receive an invitation to such an event even as a Halfblood. But as a Muggleborn, Hermione braces herself for an onslaught of jeers and slurs. If Ron wasn’t being honored for his success on a case he’d worked six months to solve, she wouldn’t be here at all.

  Ron has always encouraged Hermione to follow her dreams, even during their Hogwarts days. Though they were sorted into different houses, the two shared many Prefect rounds together. Being named Head Boy and Girl also brought them closer together, where they began seeing each other in secret . Neither had intended to break things off upon graduation, but when Hermione received rejection after rejection for potential jobs within the Ministry, she pushed him away too. 

  There was a time years ago when she hoped to be working within the Magical Law Department with dreams of making the magical world a more accepting place for every witch and wizard, no matter their blood status. But those bright-eyed and bushy-tailed dreams have long since dissipated. The rules are archaic, and there’s no chance of overturning something so set in stone until there’s a new Minister of Magic who would be open to the possibility. 

  So, for now, Hermione tends to a job that gives her equal satisfaction. She teaches young Muggleborn students in a special school that she founded with the help of Professor McGonagall. Hermione earned her certification to teach the primary levels at University after graduating from Hogwarts, and now works with Professor McGonagall to teach those students between the ages of five and eleven how to prepare for the world they’ll enter when they’re old enough to go to Hogwarts. This is in addition to all of the regular courses that Muggle England expects them to study.

  The prep school is what reconnected the pair, when Ron was assigned to work the case of an eight-year-old that disappeared last year. It was determined that the child was abducted by Fenrir Greyback and turned into a werewolf. Ron found the boy’s body deep in the Forest of Dean, where it was determined that Fenrir became too bloodthirsty on that particular hunt. 

  Hermione was distraught over the outcome and took comfort in Ron, who was equally shaken by the case. As the weeks following the case progressed, Hermione found herself spending more and more time with Ron. Slowly but surely, they found their way back to each other and had only just rekindled their relationship a couple of months ago.

  Since their relationship still feels so new to Hermione, they’ve kept things quiet. But she knows how important tonight is for Ron, and she wants to be there for him. To support him the same way he supports her. Hermione knows he will be by her side through it all, and has assured  her that no one will make any comments. 

  Ron leads them around the room, exchanging pleasantries and mingling with people Hermione’s only heard stories about. Thus far, everyone she’s encountered has been polite. They are about to make their way to their table when a voice calls out to them.

  “Ron! There you are, dear! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  Hermione turns to see a plump woman with hair the same shade of red as Ron’s. A man follows in her wake who peers at them through half-moon spectacles with the same cerulean eyes that she’s so familiar with, only they’re attached to a different face. They’re much colder than the warmth Ron’s eyes emit, and that’s when the dread begins to expand from the pit in her stomach.

  “Oh, I didn’t realize you were both attending tonight,” Ron attempts to hide the surprise as he greets his parents.

  “And miss the opportunity to see our son receive an award for his hard work? Don’t be silly,” his father responds with a wave of his hand.

  Hermione has yet to meet Ron’s parents. A chill crawls up her spine as they talk to their son as if he is standing by himself. Suddenly, all of Ron’s promises become emptier than the desk of her former student.

  “Er, right. Mum, Dad, I’d like you to meet someone.” Ron gestures toward Hermione.

  She can see his mouth moving, but no sound comes out, at least not that she hears. The blood drains from her ears, causing momentary deafness as she stands under the scrutinizing stares of his parents. Hermione holds her head high as his mother admonishes his choice of a date. There’s no empathy for them whatsoever.

  “...What will everyone think? You come from a certain class of people, and we need to uphold our status. At least go for a Halfblood, darling.”

  Years of following the mantra ‘hold your head high, don’t let it bother you, stay in your lane’ have still not prepared Hermione to endure this moment. She is a strong-willed woman, she fights for what is right, and she refuses to stand here and take this woman’s judgmental words all because of the family she was born into. 

  This is the exact reason why Hermione insisted on keeping their relationship private. Her feet move on their own accord as Hermione tears herself away from Ron’s side and weaves in and out of the clumps of people. She manages to find the visitor’s entrance and exits to the bustling streets of London. Refusing to cry, she rushes along the cobblestone sidewalk and down a deserted alleyway. 

  Hermione forces herself to forget the sound of Ron’s voice calling after her as she disapparates away from the Ministry of Magic. She finds herself in her classroom, staring at all the empty desks in front of her. Desks of students who would be forced to meet the same unfair limitations that she lives day to day. She feels so helpless, not knowing what to do in an effort to make their lives easier. 

  Looking down at the elegant maroon ball gown she’s still wearing, she feels dirty. This isn’t the life she’s meant for, no matter how many assurances Ron can give her. She doesn’t belong in his world. Thank goodness she keeps an extra outfit in her coat closet, which she rushes toward before shedding the expensive formalwear from her body. 

  Once she’s changed, Hermione sits down at her desk, staring at the piles of papers left to be graded. Ron insisted she leave them there so they could spend their weekend together. A heartbreaking realization enters her mind as she thinks of his name.

  We can’t be together. This is never going to work.

  It’s as if he knows that she’s thinking of him as the floo lights up and he stumbles out. Ron sheds his dress robes, leaving him in his starched white dress shirt and pressed black trousers. She refuses to look up even though she can feel his gaze boring into her as he stands at the head of her desk.

  “Hermione.”

  She says nothing because what is there to say?

  “They’re small-minded people. What do you care what they think?”*

  He reaches for her hand, but she tugs it away as she sits back in her chair.

  “It’s not just them, Ron. You haven’t lived this life. You don’t know what I’ve been up against. You’ll never know what it feels like to be looked at the way your parents looked at me tonight. The way they spoke down about me to my face. I can’t—I can’t be subjected to that. The way people will look at us because we’re together. I don’t deserve to feel that way.”

  Hermione stands up and exits the classroom, stepping into the abandoned hallway. She can’t do this anymore— it’s too painful. She’s learned to pick and choose her battles. It’s better to let people like the Weasleys think they’ve won while she keeps fighting on her own.

  You know I want you, it’s not a secret I try to hide.

I know you want me, so don’t keep saying our hands are tied.

You claim it’s not in the cards, that fate is pulling you miles away and out of reach from me,

But you’re here in my heart, so who can stop me if I decide that you’re my destiny?

  “Hermione, don’t do this. Please. I don’t care what they think. I want you, and nothing else matters.”

  She stops and only turns her head slightly to see him leaning out of the doorway, his hand gripping the door jamb as he calls after her.

  What if we rewrite the stars, say you were made to be mine

Nothing could keep us apart, you’d be the one I was meant to find.

It’s up to you, it’s up to me, no one can say what we get to be

So why don’t we rewrite the stars, maybe the world could be ours tonight.

  “Please, love, don’t let them dictate what our life looks like.”

  The desperation in Ron’s voice is what makes Hermione turn all the way around to face him. She begins to walk a few paces toward him before the voices in her head get a hold of her. He’d become an outcast if she stayed with him. She can’t let him risk everything he’s gained by choosing her.

  You think it’s easy? You think I don’t want to run to you?

But there are mountains, and there are doors that we can’t walk through.

I know you’re wondering why because we’re able to be just you and me within these walls

But when we go outside you’re gonna wake up and see that it was hopeless after all.

  “You know it’s not that easy. We can’t just run away from everything so we can be happy. Your family would never forgive you, or me for that matter! Everyone will do everything in their power to tear us apart. It’s not worth it.”

  “So, what? You’re saying we’re not worth it?”

  No one can rewrite the stars. How can you say you’ll be mine?

Everything keeps us apart, and I’m not the one you were meant to find.

It’s not up to you, it’s not up to me, when everyone tells us what we can be.

How can we rewrite the stars? Say that the world can be ours tonight.

  Hermione reaches out and clasps his hands with her own. “No, you’re not listening to me. You’re worth so much to me that I have to let you go.”

  “But what if I don’t want to let go?”

  All I want is to fly with you. 

All I want is to fall with you. 

So just give me all of you.

It feels impossible (It’s not impossible). 

Is it impossible? (Say that it’s possible.)

  “I don’t want to let go, either, Ron, but I have to. You mean too much to me.” 

  She knows it’s better to be hurt on her own terms than to let someone else hurt her instead. Ron will see reason eventually. He has to. Hermione wraps her arms around him, tighter than ever before, putting all her feelings into one single embrace, hoping that he can understand. 

  How do we rewrite the stars? Say you were made to be mine?

Nothing can keep us apart, cause you are the one I was meant to find.

It’s up to you and it’s up to me, no one can say what we get to be

And why don’t we rewrite the stars, changing the world to be ours… 

  There are many things she can change, but her blood status isn’t one. Above all else, she’s proud of being a Muggleborn, and she’ll keep teaching her students to be proud of their roots as well. She’ll keep her memories of Ron and how wonderful he is locked up tight as she finds a way to navigate this world without him. Hermione has made her decision as she kisses his cheek and lets go. Perhaps in another lifetime, they’ll be able to be together with nothing standing in their way.

  You know I want you.

It’s not a secret I try to hide.

But I can’t have you.

We’re bound to break and our hands are tied.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her voice leaves the faintest echo among the abandoned halls. Before she loses her nerve, she turns on the spot and apparates away, leaving the hurt look that is etched on Ron’s face burned into her mind as she leaves him alone.

[imaginativeamateur]

[Gaara X Reader] You Feel Like Home {Part 2}

Prologue   Part 1   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Epilogue

~~/ / You hated to admit it but you were growing closer to the hosts during your stay at Suna, maybe too close, and too quick. / /~~

You had two more days before you needed to head back to Konoha. Your job here was basically fulfilled, both of you were able to come up with a consensus for trading commodities and taxes, as well as the security between the two villages. You were quite downhearted to leave the place that you grew so comfortable with for the last several weeks, or the people here, you supposed.

Tonight was different. Temari and Kankuro suddenly had some personal responsibilities to attend to so you did not come over for dinner as usual. You were sitting on a big branch, legs dangling in the air, eyes gazing at the clear sky above you. You honestly still had so many things to do here, there were people that you called friends, there were so many questions that needed answers, your feelings for a specific person being one.

The air on your right stirred and you shifted a little bit to the left, lending your expected visitor some space to sit. Gaara silently took a seat next to you, letting out a long sigh, “You remember the Missing-nins that attacked you on your way here?”

You nodded, curious to as why he brought the topic up, “Did you manage to find anything?”

He lowered his gaze to your round eyes, “Y/N, this is getting more serious than we initially thought.”

You narrowed your eyes, “Go ahead!”

“I received this from an anonymous,” he pulled out a paper envelope from his pocket, “it was sealed and left in front of the tower.”

You quickly grabbed the envelope in his hand, not expecting the package to be that heavy. You opened the folded paper and found tons of photos inside. Giving Gaara a glance, you proceeded to turn back onto the object as remained silent beside, nodding for you to resume your action. You looked back inside the enveloped, eyes widened at the sight of familiar faces being tied to the poles, bleeding and unconscious, some were even chained with rusty metal, the wounds on their bodies were fresh with trails of blood, dried ones layered with new ones. The graphic content made you gasp and clench your fist, these were faces you recognized, and were painfully familiar with. Seeing them in such a state thwarted your heart, your breathing became rapid as you found it impossible to focus on the photos, head wildly spinning, threatening to collapse at any moment.

Gaara noticed your change in behavior and hastily took the envelope back with one hand, the other stroking your back gently. He knew the question that was running in your mind as he felt you trembling beneath his touch, “I figured it was most likely from Orochimaru.”

“Where?” You managed to whisper, voice hoarse and raw, still shaking from the shock.

“You’re not going anywhere, Y/N,” he pulled you into his chest, lending you his shoulder, “Temari and Kankuro already took off earlier.”

“I need to go, my friends… I,” you began to choke on your words, tears prickling in your eyes, “I can’t be sitting here while they are suffering, they need me.”

“Listen,” his voice hardened, “whoever sent the photo here means they know where you are, Y/N, you are their next target. If you go, you’ll fall right into their trap. As long as I’m here, I’m not going to let you go!”

You knew Gaara was right, but you could not stand your friends being tortured in such cruel ways. You held on to him even tighter, tears flowing, and he slowly patted your head, “It’s okay Y/N. From now on, you are under my supervision, I will protect you, no matter what. Temari and Kankuro will get the captives out safely together with other Sand Shinobi.”

You sniffed against his chest after you had calmed yourself down, your voice hoarse, “I want to go back.”

“You will be staying with me tonight, I will have your stuff here in a minute.”

“No need to summon your Ninjas, I will go back and pack,” you gave him an assurance smile but he sure knew it was nothing but a cover.

Gaara helped you stable yourself on your feet as you continued to stare at the ground. You both chose to walk back, using the cold, dry wind to ease away the mental trigger earlier. You leaned against Gaara as he led you through the woods, absentmindedly made your way back to your accommodation.

He patiently waited outside in the living room for you to gather your stuff, eyes wandering around to observe your place.

“Gaara?” You called from your bedroom.

“Yes?” He hurried inside. “Do you need help packing up?”

“Something’s off, I don’t know,” you whispered, “but my room doesn’t look like how I left in the morning.”

“Is there anything missing?”Gaara immediately surveyed your room thoroughly, trying to spot anything odd, “Let’s hurry up. It’s not safe here anymore.”

You grabbed your folded clothes and stuffed them in a bag together with some books and toiletries and made your way to the door, Gaara was right behind you. You two went straight to his home, after checking the outside area once again, you decided to go for a shower first, desperate to rinse the exhaustion away.

Drying your hair as you got out of the bathroom, Gaara was slumped on the couch. The red-haired Ninja was fast asleep, eyes peacefully closed. You took your time to notice how the crease between his brows was relaxed, his chest rose and fell rhythmically. It was tiring and assiduous, his position, being a young man in his blossoming age but bounded to such duties, you deeply understood the responsibilities that he had, having to experience them yourself. After working with him for quite an amount of time, you were sure that the red-haired could not be any better as a young Kazekage. The sight before you was indescribable, it was rare and precious. Right now, he was not the Kazekage feared by nations, nor the cold-blooded Gaara of the Desert, he was just… Gaara.

Gaara sensed your appearance as he flicked his eyes open and sat up straight, mumbling, “I did not fall asleep.”

You chuckled, not failing to stress your words, “Yes, you totally did not fall asleep!”

“Anyway,” he smiled, “are you feeling any better?”

“Um, better than before,” you grinned in return, “you can take a shower now, I’ll wait out here.”

After a warm shower, you rummaged through the fridge and found some leftovers, enough for you and Gaara, and went to heat it up. You spent your dinner going through the possible causes behind Orochimaru’s insanity and the reason why he was after you concerned Gaara.

“What if it’s not Orochimaru who’s behind all this mess?” You questioned, the gashes on your fellow Shinobi did not look like they were left by Orochimaru or any of his guys, they were different, more painful.

“That’s not impossible,” he tapped his finger on the table, “but who could possibly do all this besides him?”

“Maybe they are not only targeting me, or Konoha?”

“What makes you think so?”

“If they wanted to make a fuss with Konoha, it would be more efficient to just come straight to the Hokage, rather than someone out of town like me. Konoha’s citizens would have been a better catch, holding them in danger would immediately get our Hokage on her nerves.”

Gaara furrowed his brows, “I see your point, their intention is much bigger. Besides Orochimaru, the only active rogue organization to date is… the Akatsuki.”

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

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu​

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villainsicle | Part 13

I know it’s been a while, and if I’m being completely honest, I really ran out of steam on this story for a while. But, we’re back! If you’re new to my blog and are interested in this story, all of the parts up to this one can be found linked in my pinned info post.

Thank you guys so much for all your support of this series so far! I hope you enjoy this part, too!

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room

@literally-just-kirby​

@the-polari-person

@teachunks

@daydreamed-snippets-2nd-blog

@sunflower1000

@lightdrinker-blog

@regalwritten

CW//Mentions of bathing, restraints, drugs, dehumanization, conspiracies, collars, talk of diseases, talk of falling, Stockholm syndrome, affectionate caretaker, conditioned whumpee

After their bath, Villain rested.

It wasn’t exactly how Counselor had imagined the whole affair going. Villain had already spent so many days resting, laid up in that same bed, but once they were clean and settled into fresh clothes, they had requested nothing except to be able to return to sleep.

They supposed it wasn’t entirely unexpected. While the bath hadn’t exactly been physically exerting, there had been several instances during it that Villain had nearly burst out in tears. Whatever was going through their mind, it was undeniably intense-- and that wasn’t even mentioning the heavy dose of sedatives coursing through their system.

And, thus, Villain slept. They were unconscious almost immediately upon hitting the mattress.

This time, however, there was no nervous twitching to accompany their unconsciousness. Instead, for the first time, their face showed a perfectly placid expression.

Taking care not to wake the sleeping patient, Counselor draped a fleece blanket overtop of them, tucking its edges in around their shoulders. They twitched, but did not awake. A moment later, they buried their face in the fabric.

Counselor had never before imagined that Villain was even capable of existing in such a calm state. Yet, here they were, looking for all the world as though not even an earthquake could wake them up.

Their gaze flicked to the bedrails. Upon returning to their bed, Villain had not so much as seemed to note the leather-and-foam restraints hanging there.

Yet, Counselor could not draw their gaze away from them.

Villain had been staying in the base for weeks, phasing through various states of aggression and fear and sickness and, on rare occasions, hesitant happiness. But, even after all that time, no one truly knew anything about them.

At least, Counselor knew nothing about them. Based on the way Leader and Medic’s expressions twisted when the prisoner was mentioned, it was clear that the both of them knew more than they were letting on-- but neither was keen to admit as to such.

Maybe Hero had had more luck on this information gathering mission.

But how much information was there really to gather? Officially, Villain had simply appeared on stage a few months ago, alongside two unknowns. More or less, they had acted just as any other villain did.

The other villains, however, had motives. Backstories. They were following orders.

Villain... If anyone on the outside cared about them, they had yet to risk any sort of jailbreak.

There was more to this than the official story, Counselor knew that full well. How much more... as to that, they had no idea.

But they had no need to rely on second hand accounts and official reports to know what Villain was. That much was obvious. They were a villain. Whatever their backstory, whatever their past, they were dangerous.

Right?

Counselor’s gaze drifted back to those restraints. Those simple straps, dangling from a metal bedframe.

At some point, Villain may have been dangerous. But not right now. Right now, they needed help, and that was exactly what Counselor was going to give them.

And, if they wanted that plan to go anywhere, they would have to start with the doctor who harmed their own patient.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

This time, when Medic answered the knocking on their door, their glasses were on the right way around. They blinked a few times, rubbing their eyes, hardly noting as the piping hot cup of coffee was pushed into their hands.

The doctor glanced down at the beverage before looking back up to meet their visitor’s gaze.

“I thought you wanted me to sleep.”

“Well, that was before. For now, we need to talk.”

“If this is decaf again, I swear I’m going to strangle you.”

“It’s not. Though the same threat applies to you if you try to go back to the med bay.”

“I’m a doctor. In fact, I’m our only doctor.”

“I’m a doctor, too.”

“Psychology doesn’t count.”

“Fair enough.”

“If we’re done threatening each other, then, would you care to, I don’t know, tell me why you’re bothering me?”

“As I said, we need to talk.”

“Do I even need to ask what about?”

“I think you already know that. Come on. You have your coffee, so there’s no excuses.”

“You really think I’m going to be that penitent about this?”

“Maybe.”

Medic rolled their eyes, but did not protest any further as Counselor turned and walked off. The two moved to a rather isolated table, tucked away in the corner of a hallway. The cafeteria was far too crowded at the moment to host such a discussion.

On opposite sides of the table, the opposites sat. Two cups of coffee clinked down on the wooden surface.

Counselor took a sip of their drink, placing the cup back down and raising their gaze. Medic frowned, lips turning downwards even further than usual.

“What, are we planning on talking through telepathy or- Come on, Counselor, stop looking at me like that. I hate that.”

“Then are you going to say anything?”

“I can’t read your mind.”

“You said you knew what this was about.”

“Maybe.” Medic shrugged dismissively. The doctor had been horribly standoffish, ever since Villain had been captured. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to start trying to guess your thoughts.”

Counselor took another sip.

“Fine, then. I can start.” Sip. Clink. “Villain told me something very interesting, earlier.”

“You really believe them?”

“I haven’t even said it yet.”

“Then stop wasting time, maybe.”

“Villain says that you’re making them sick.”

Medic’s brows furrowed.

“That’s what they said?”

“Pretty much verbatim, yes.”

“Well.” Medic took a hesitant drink of their coffee. “I don’t know why you’re even wasting your time on a notion like that. What they are is paranoid. I don’t doubt that they think I’m making them sick. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“You’re saying that your patient is lying.”

“Maybe not lying. That would imply that they know what they’re saying is not true. They are sick, I will not deny that. And they are not responding to treatment. I can’t say that anything I’ve tried so far has made it any better, but it certainly hasn’t made it worse.”

“Why would they believe such a thing without reason?”

Medic exhaled.

“Because, in Villain’s mind, they do have reason. They have a child’s understanding of medicine. They are sick, and they are under my care and taking my medicines, and thus, in their mind, one of these things has caused the other.”

Counselor cast their gaze downwards, focusing on the way their milk danced its way through the black beverage before them. It was a reasonable explanation. Maybe. They may not have trusted Medic, but they trusted Medic’s abilities as a doctor.

Could Villain really be wrong?

“If they’re wrong...” Counselor began again. “Then what is making them sick? Their incident with hypothermia was weeks ago, now. It can’t still be that?”

“I doubt the two are connected. If this was all a matter of post-hypothermic reactions, then we wouldn’t be seeing these kinds of symptoms.”

“What is it, then?”

Medic bit their bottom lip.

“That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? They’ve been in your care for... well over a week, now.”

“You think I don’t know that? If you haven’t noticed, I’m the world’s leading expert on Enhanced biology. Not to mention, y’know, an experienced doctor for normal humans. Whatever this is, it’s not a normal sickness. I’ve done every test I can think of.”

“And... it’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Not as badly as you might be fearing. Their weakness is worsening, yes, as is their general mental state. But their vitals are fine. They’re not in serious danger of anything, so long as they don’t hurt themself.”

“You think they’d do that?”

“Given just how bad their confusion has been getting? I’m already putting preventative measures in place.”

“Oh.”

Medic raised a brow.

“You thought I restrained them for no reason? I’m not Leader. There are medical regulations about this sort of thing.”

“They’ve been hurting themself?”

“Not what you may be thinking of. But with how bad their weakness has grown, they can’t exactly stand up without aid, at the current moment. Forget walking. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have realized this.”

“They’ve fallen?”

“A few times, yes. If that is all, I was really just starting to enjoy my day off, so-”

“Wait.” Counselor shook their head. “People don’t get sick for no reason.”

“Congrats, you know a basic medical fact.”

“You know what I mean. You’re the smartest person I know. You must have, I don’t know, a theory? A hypothesis? Anything?”

Medic blinked, placing down their cup.

“I do. Though right now, I have no way of proving it.”

“What is it?”

“Villain has what we call... psionic powers. Powers that affect only a person’s brain, but not their physical body. It’s the rarest type of power, oftentimes because something you can’t see is often something you can’t detect. Thus, this group of powers is poorly understood, to say the least. But I’m sure you know what power fatigue looks like for other Enhanced.”

“Like when Hero broke their leg?” Counselor guessed.

“Yes. The simple act of overexerting ones powers, even without outside injury, can cause physical injuries like that to develop.”

“You think Villain’s having power fatigue?”

“It’s my best guess. It would check all the boxes. An undetectable illness affecting the brain, but nothing else. A never before seen condition.”

“But... is it something you can cure?”

“I can’t cure tiredness.” Medic shook their head. “That’s really not how it works. I can do my best to counteract the symptoms, but so long as the source is still there, I’d be fighting uphill.”

“Then what can you do?”

“I can remove the source.” The tiniest smirk crept onto the doctor’s countenance. “Power fatigue is caused not by using ones powers, but using them in a way that the body cannot handle. At least, as far as we can tell. If Villain can control their powers enough, their symptoms should go away.”

“You really think so?”

“I hesitate to guarantee anything. Not with how poorly understood the condition is.” That smirk fell, replaced by Medic’s resting expression of annoyance. “But training them to use their powers properly is the only way I can see them getting any better.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m also sure that I would really like to go back to my quarters. If you’re done bothering me?”

Counselor bit their tongue.

“Fine.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Counselor had momentarily considered returning to their own quarters, but had quickly decided against it, instead turning to the kitchen. They had yet to eat that morning, as had Villain. They figured that a warm meal might help them shake off the sedatives.

And, maybe, some food would make Counselor’s own stomach stop twisting.

They only made it halfway to the kitchen, however, when in the hallway, they nearly slammed into Hero. The two both yelped, and a slosh of Counselor’s coffee slopped to the floor.

“Shit, sorry, are you okay?” Hero asked. There was considerable nerve in their voice.

Counselor nodded. “You just started me, ‘s all.” They glanced down at the spilling coffee now sitting on the tile floor. “I’ll, uh, get that later. I was just heading to the kitchen.”

“Oh. Um, could it wait?”

“I need to bring Villain something to eat.”

“Can it wait?”

“What-”

Counselor’s gaze drifted to Hero’s twitching hand.

“You have something?”

“Mhm. I don’t think it’s going to take very long.”

“Can I see?”

“Not here. Not with everyone else around.”

Counselor raised their brows quizzically, but nodded.

“To your quarters, then?”

“I guess that’s as good of a place as any.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

As soon as Counselor was out of sight, Medic changed their trajectory.

The musty air that filled their lab acted on them like a drug, sending a calm shiver down their spine. If they had the day off (or if they were being forced to take it off), there was no way they were going to spend that precious little free time moping in their quarters. Not when they could be here.

They sat, the memory foam of their desk chair still molded to their form. The laptop before them booted up with a familiar chirp and bright pink screensaver, written upon in white text:

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.” 

The grainy selection of videos blinked before them, and they selected the next one in the series. Even if they didn’t have access to their Asset at the current moment, they could at the very least work ahead.

The screen fizzled to life in all its low-definition glory, displaying a familiar room, its walls plastered with protective black rubber, and its tile floor made of the same material.

The presenter wore a bandage on their face, covering the side of their jaw. The gauze warped as they smiled, but they seemed to make no note of it.

Beside them, the presenter’s own Asset stood. The muzzle around their face had been modified, its metal warped as to compress its wearer’s jaw, to the point that even breathing was an impossibility.

Extreme, perhaps, but based on the Asset’s behavior, it was warranted.

Though their movements were weak and unbalanced, they were persistent, not ceasing yanking against their leash for the slightest moment. This time, unlike before, the presenter seemed to be paying attention to them, though they did not seem worried.

“It has been some time since we last spoke.” They began. “I apologize for the delay, but, hopefully, it will not happen again. After all, training our Assets is a full time job.”

A smile. Cheerful, stretching their cheeks.

“Unfortunately, I must report that the recent delay we experienced was as a result of my own Asset lashing out. This was unfortunate, but it made me realize that there is a flaw in my training methods. A flaw I seek to instruct you, today, on how to remedy.

One advantage we trainers have is that we have 24/7 access to our Assets. As we take care of them, we can choose to meet their needs in whatever way we see fit.

Deprivation has always been a part of Asset training, since we pioneered our methods. But it was something I, unfortunately and unwisely, neglected. And I have done you all a disservice by not mentioning it to you.

In order for training to truly take effect, there must be room in an Asset’s mind for it to fit. A reason for them to follow. Fear, certainly, is this reason, but there are other aspects to control.

Following my Asset’s incident, we have been working using these methods of deprivation. Depriving your Asset of things such as nutrients, water, and sleep can significantly speed up and solidify your training. In this lesson, we will go over this, and how it can help you improve your training methods.”

The presenter’s smile was matched by their Asset’s wicked snarl. From the corners of their mouth, licks of flame emerged, just for the slightest moment.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Hero handled the flash drive as though it were a bomb.

Perhaps it was, if the writing on the device was at all to be believed. Scrawled on in sharpie, a hastily written yet well received warning.

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.” 

As if Organization cared about the law.

Hero seated themself in their office chair, leaving Counselor to sit a few feet back, on their bed. They almost flinched, plugging the flashdrive into their laptop.

For a moment, the computer hummed, before it reported chipperly that new files had been added.

“Uh, Hero?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you get this thing?”

“Leader gave it to me.”

“Did they say what it was.”

Hero shook their head. “That’s what we’re about to find out.”

Still moving terribly nervously, Hero opened the folder that the computer had created for these ‘new files.’

“It’s... videos.”

“Videos?”

“A couple of them, yeah.”

“Should we... play them?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. I mean, if Organization is involved, I’m not sure I want to know what’s on them.”

“It could help Villain.”

Hero sighed, dipping their head.

“I hate when you’re right.”

With deft fingers, they selected the first video.

It had been so long, since any of them had seen Traitor. More than that, it had been so long since any of them had seen Traitor smile.

And yet, that was what they were doing. Grinning, ear to ear, eyes locked upon the camera.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the second edition of the Asset Training Video Course. If you are confused, the first edition of this series was, unfortunately, cut short due to... an incident. We will all miss our last presenter, but that does not mean that our duties can be shirked.”

Traitor turned, looking offscreen, calling:

“Veni huc.”

The language the words were in was clearly not English, but the person who moved on-screen did not seem concerned by that fact.

Villain smiled as well, though their warm gaze had an inquisitive quality to it as they regarded the camera. A chain-link collar was arranged about their neck, but it was attached to nothing, and seemed to more or less hang limply.

“For this series, I will be demonstrating all you need to know about Asset training. This, here, is my own Asset, Cadet. As you can tell, they are very well trained, if I do say so myself. They will be helping me show you how to train your own assigned Asset.”

Traitor’s hand reached for Villain, who did not flinch a moment. Their hand ruffled Villain’s hair affectionately.

Villain smiled, and leaned into the touch.

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 2: Coffee Shop / Tattoo Parlor / Flower Shop / Other Retail AU

Coffee and other ways to heal the soul.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Rating: General Audiences

TW: Valhalla arc (mentioned), coffee, NCIS cameo

AN: Day 2 of @tropetember. I was really struggling with the coffee shop AU but once I got going, really got way too into it and could probably pad this out into a short series. Is that something people would be interested in?

Also, not really sure if I managed to capture Spencer but remember this is an AU and that's my excuse!

Enjoy!

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 2.4k

One of the biggest advantages of owning one of the few coffee shops in Quantico that wasn't part of a massive chain, was the constant stream of senior FBI and Navy personnel desperate for high quality, well made coffee. It had become such a lucrative venture in fact that you could afford to hire enough staff to rarely even have to be behind the counter at all.

The surge in popularity has even allowed you to convert one of the spare upstairs rooms into a meeting room. In hindsight, you should have converted more because once your regulars found out about it, there had been outright war between the Navy and FBI to try and get meetings booked in. A couple of your regulars had even managed to get both institutions to hardwire connections so they could host even more briefings and meetings in the friendly, comfortable space.

Today's winners were a Unit from the FBI, who had booked it out for a whole day. Aaron Hotchner, the BAU chief, came in most mornings and was a real sweetheart. You'd been trying to get him to drink something other than his normal americano since his return from Afghanistan a few months ago, but had not been successful so far. You were excited to meet the rest of the legendary team. He always spoke fondly of them when he bought extra coffees to boost morale.

With that in mind, you quickly throw together the pastries and beverages he'd preordered for the start of their session and head in to do a quick check that everything was ready.

Like any meeting room, there was a large table in the center but you'd made sure to surround it with comfy and artfully mismatched chairs. The floor was a deep walnut colour and matched the numerous floating shelves which were covered in plants and books. The place was homey and extended the cosy chic look you had been trying to achieve throughout the shop.

After a little bit of organising, including making sure the FBI cables were accessible and tidying any of the Navy’s equipment, you head downstairs to the main space.

Charlotte and Jessica were behind the tills this morning, making quick work of the line and exuding friendly helpfulness out of every pore. They were both grad students and you were already dreading them graduating. Their natural effervescence would be impossible to replace.

To pass the time until your booking arrives, you catch up with NCIS Agent McGee who is on the coffee run, trying not to hold him up too long in case he ends up getting in more trouble with his big bad boss. Apparently Agent DiNozzo had knocked over Gibbs coffee but McGee had then slipped in it and done some minor damage to some of the equipment. He told you he much preferred coffee run to door knocking duty round a 6 block radius like DiNozzo.

As you wrap it up, a group of people enter the shop, led by a woman in colourful clothes and a sunshine demeanour. It's not until you see Agent Hotchner's suited and booted presence bringing up the rear that you realise this is the infamous BAU.

Donning your friendliest persona, you politely excuse yourself from McGee and head to greet them, calling Aaron's name across the way.

The profilers seem surprised by your use of their bosses name but quickly shake it off as introductions are made. You receive hand shakes off most of them with the exception of Penelope, who gives you a hug because of course she does, and Dr Spencer Reid who gives you a shy wave and looks like he'd rather be anywhere else.

It didn't take a profiler to see the physical distance between the genius and the rest of the group. He was always a step away from the nearest person and automatically avoided any physical contact from them.

How strange.

Brushing it off you lead them upstairs and get them settled, letting them know that they're welcome to come and go in the shop as need and that all their drinks would be added to the discounted tab and left them too it, all the while trying not to puzzle over the handsome loner and his cute sweater vest.

-----

If there was one thing Spencer Reid hated more than anything, it was team building.

Normally, back before everything happened, he would just grit his teeth and bear it. That's been a lot harder after finding out that Emily was alive.

Processing the joy at her being alive and the rage at being led to believe she was dead in the first place, particularly by the people he trusted the most, was not easy. He was trying to forgive them. He was trying to let it go, to accept the damage but move forward.

It was still a work in progress.

That's why, when Hotch announced a team building/meeting day, he had momentarily considered resigning. Though there was no longer outright hostility between himself and Jennifer, things weren’t exactly comfortable between himself and half of the team. The only bright side to this whole endeavour was the location. No coffee shop lasted long in Quantico unless the coffee was actually good. It was a small mercy.

He followed the rest of the team into the coffee shop, eyeing the surroundings and taking note of the other visitors. As the rest of the team joked about, he stayed back, simply waving at the nice owner of the shop when Hotch introduced them.

They appeared to be about his age which was very impressive considering the success of the café. And there were a couple of sci-fi references hidden in the décor that he would have loved to ask about, but he doubted they’d appreciate him going off about Star Trek this early in the morning. Instead he just gave a tight-lipped smile and followed the team upstairs.

Spencer tried his best to concentrate throughout the morning but to say he was relieved when they were left to their own devices for lunch would be an understatement.

-----

After a productive morning in the office, you wander back out to the main part of the shop to check on things. The lunch rush can be unforgiving but the girls seem to have it in hand. Nothing out of the ordinary for a Tuesday lunchtime.

What you didn’t expect to see was Spencer Reid hidden away at one of the back tables with a ginormous book in front of him, a small scowl on his face and the rest of his team nowhere in sight.

You agonise silently with yourself for a few moments before you decide to head over. You figure if he doesn’t want company he’ll let you know but you feel drawn to him. It was strange. Maybe it was just your instinctive need to collect strays.

You smile gently at him when you reach his table, indicating the seat opposite him in question. He gives a quick nod but doesn’t fully look at you.

“Everything ok?” you ask.

He takes a moment and seems to be considering his options. He looks at you with a little tilt of his head, likely questioning your motives.

Finally, he seems to decide you have no sinister intention and quietly replies “I just wish things could go back to how they were”.

You had heard about the events involving the BAU in the last year or so. It had been a hot topic of gossip in the shop numerous times. Aaron also occasionally talked about his guilt at what he put his team through when he stopped by, needing a friend to talk to. It’s the first time, however, that you think in depth about how faking a close friend's death likely affected the team members who were unaware.

This isn’t to say you didn’t care or didn’t think that it must have been terrible for them. You did, but had agreed with the justification that it was for Agent Prentiss’ safety, that finding out she was alive would make up for it. It’s apparent in the sadness of Dr Reid’s expression that that isn’t the case.

“Can I touch you?”

His eyes shoot up in surprise and he hesitantly nods. You gently grasp his hands, wrapping your fingers around his.

“I can’t even imagine,” you begin slowly, “how difficult this must be. But if you ever need to talk to someone, you’re always welcome here”

He gives a short, sharp nod and squeezes your fingers which you take to mean thank you.

“Also, this is totally not my place but, a therapist, one outside the Bureau? Might not be such a bad idea?” You give a sardonic grin and admit ” It worked for me”

After you give his hands another quick squeeze, you leave him to ponder your statement and head back to your office. Paperwork doesn’t do it self after all.

You hope Spencer manages to find some support though and decide that if he wants it, you’d be more than willing to help him.

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

It was a few weeks before Spencer Reid showed up in the coffee shop again.

It was early evening and you only had a few people in. You’d opted to close up tonight to ensure Jessica, who had been on the afternoon shift, had time to work on her assignment for class. She’d been complaining about it for the last few days.

The sound of the front door opening distracts you from your thoughts and you glance up to see who has entered. When you realise who it is you can’t help but smile.

“Fancy seeing you here Dr Reid” you say in greeting. He gives you a small smile in return.

“Well, it’s good coffee and, erm, the company’s good?”

You understand the question implicit in that comment and glance around at the few remaining patrons. They all have a beverage and it’s a quiet night so you can afford to take a step out behind the counter between orders.

“Sure, let me make us both a drink and then I’m all yours.”

You take his order (how much sugar?!?!) and get you both sorted out and settled into a small booth. You look at him, taking in the nervous expression on his face and let him settle in and start the conversation.

“I, erm, I took your advice”.

“That’s good. Are you finding it’s helping? Having someone outside of work to talk things through with?”

He nods his head.

“One of the things she pointed out was that so much of my life is wrapped up in work, that when things go wrong I don't have an external support system. Not that I didn't know that already but, someone else pointing it out made me realise how much if an impact it has.”

You bob your head thoughtfully, acknowledging his comment but not forcing him to say more.

“She suggested I try to find people outside of work to talk to. I was... I was wondering if you could be one?”

His nerves seem to have failed him slightly as he can’t look you in the eye, but you give him a big grin. Of course you want to spend time with this lovely man.

“I’d love to” you say, which gets him to look up and give you a smile in response.

You spend nearly an hour, with occasional breaks to serve customers, chatting to him before it becomes necessary to close up. He starts gathering his things but you’ve been enjoying his company so much you can’t bear to let him go. Instead, you check if he’s in a rush and, after confirming he has nothing else planned, invite him to hang around and grab something to eat from the diner down the street.

By the end of the night, you’re glad the diner is 24hr. You completely lose track of time, fascinated by the sheer amount of information he can provide and the passion with which he infodumps. It’s extremely endearing.

“I had a lovely time tonight” you tell him as you walk towards your apartment. You don’t live too far from the coffee shop and he had very gallantly offered to walk you home. “I’d love to do it again some time?”

He smiles and nods in agreement before asking for your phone number.

“I don't really like technology that much so I don’t have a smartphone and I don’t really check it that much and prefer speaking to texting…”

“Spence” you say, a little laugh in your voice as you interrupt. “Whatever works best for you. I’m not going to suddenly vanish on you, promise.”

You seem to have hit his worries a little too closely as he sways a little awkwardly, gaze wandering down to his feet.

“Can I hug you?” you check. His answer is to wrap his arms around you and you gently sway the both of you side to side.

He lets go and turns to head back out into the night as you call out “If you’re ever missing me, I know a place you can get great coffee. I can get you a good discount.” A laugh stutters from his lips and he wishes you a good night.

Leaning against your door you sigh happily to yourself. It’s always a good feeling making a new friend.

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

It had been over a year since the last time the BAU had booked (and managed to attend the booking). In that time, you’d converted another room upstairs into a meeting room, as well as setting up a shared work/study space in a room out the back.

You grin as you see them all enter, fascinated by the way this family of agents interact with each other. There’s even a tall, handsome genius who stands within the group, laughing and joking along with the rest.

Spencer greets you with a gentle kiss to your lips and it causes uproar from his colleagues. You don’t react much, you just turn to them and shrug.

“Do you know how many germs are passed in a handshake? It’s much safer to kiss.”

Your genius just laughs and wraps an arm around you, guiding the whole group upstairs, his friends playfully demanding details the whole way.