#for one of them it’s like ten am & too early to socialize

[mediumgayitalian]

nothing is worse than none of your friends being online like how dare you

[dearsnow]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

- phoenix and her girlfriend set you up with a wso they insist will be right up your alley. (robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is meant to be similar to bob, ie quiet, sweet, and nerdy, mentions of being drunk/having sex but nothing explicit)

word count: 2,003

a/n - this fic is parallel HEAVY, so don’t be surprised if you see the same phrase passed around. it’s truly a mindlink esque situation lol. and it’s 100% self-indulgent because the reader’s personality is so similar to mine (i am nothing if not a self caterer)

“Nat, I’m really not sure.” Bob tries to protest. “You know I’m no good with dating and stuff. Who’s to say she’ll even like me?” Natasha pats him on the back, firmly enough for him to know she means it.

“You guys are birds of a feather. Trust me, she’ll like you.”

“Jamie, I just don’t know.” You frown. She’s trying to set you up with her girlfriend’s friend, claiming that you’d be the perfect match, but you know you’re not the most amazing when it comes to meeting new people. You’re slightly awkward at best, socially anxious at worst. “He probably won’t like me. And if we’re really so similar, don’t you think it’ll be stiff and weird because neither of us can say the right, flirty thing?”

“You don’t need to be ‘flirty’ to have a good connection. Not every relationship is going to be like Natasha and I, all fire and flame. Sometimes it’s slow, and slow is good. It’s exactly what you need.” Jamie chides, putting a soothing arm around your shoulder. “Trust me. Birds of a feather, right?”

You shift uncomfortably in the booth you’re sitting in, Jamie’s hand rubbing the side of your arm comfortingly. It’s ten minutes before your supposed double date, and Natasha affirms that it’s about five minutes before he shows up. “Bob’s always early,” she stated, “so we can be even earlier to give you some prep time.”

You’re quiet. Shy, even, and you don’t have the best track record with social events. You’ve never really had a date that understood why you don’t want to get roaringly drunk and have sex in a bathroom and whatnot. The two girls, one in front of you and one by your side, have assured you that Bob will be different. He’s quiet too, but he stands up for himself. He’s strong and capable, with a humble attitude and the slight southern charm that you can bring home to your parents. If he’s really so great, though, what the hell is he doing going out with you?

Bob can see your booth through the door of the diner, and he steels his nerves quietly. He’s got this. He’ll make it a nice dinner, a nice experience, and he will not, under any circumstances, fuck it up. He owes you that much. He knows he’s probably not what you want in a guy. Natasha described you as hardworking, kind, and a good listener. He can’t help but think that you deserve much better than him.

He takes a breath and pushes open the door, the flowers in his other hand a little damp from his sweaty palms.

When he finally rounds the server stand, he can see you. And you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure of setting sights on.

He’s royally fucked, he thinks.

Oh my god, he’s so hot. You smile at him and curse a bit under your breath, careful to not let anyone hear. He’s everything you imagined and more, with sandy colored hair, bright blue eyes, and glasses that look like they’re just a little crooked. If you were bold, you’d reach across the table and fix them as he sat down. You’re not, though, so you just fidget with your hands under the hard wood.

He clears his throat and hands you a small bouquet of daises, sliding into the spot across from you. Nat gives a little self-satisfied smile from next to him. “Hi. I didn’t know what you liked, so I hope that’s okay. I’m- I’m Robert by the way, or Bob, whatever you prefer.”

You think your cheeks will split open from how hard you’re smiling. It’s such a small gesture, but the blush on his cheeks tells you that it’s earnest. “They’re perfect. Thank you, Bob.” You introduce yourself with the next breath, and he shakes your hand like it’s a business meeting. His palms are warm and just a little bit damp, but when his fingers curl around your own like they were meant to fit together, you couldn’t care less. “So,” you begin, somewhat shyly, “you’re Natasha’s WSO?”

When Bob hears your quiet voice, he knows he’s in deep. “Yeah. She’s a great pilot.” His praise earns him an elbow from Natasha, a silent ‘talk about yourself, dipshit’ evident in the action. He smiles nervously. “We do a lot of the weapons bits so the pilots can fly safely. How about you, what do you do?”

“It’s not as important and exciting as your job, that’s for sure.” You laugh before explaining exactly what you do.

“Honestly, that is important and exciting. I’m sure you excel at it, too,” Bob offers, somewhat bashfully. What makes your head spin is that he seems like he means it. He’s sincere, wonderfully so.

As that statement quirks the corners of your mouth up, Bob’s heart explodes. You’re charming and beautifully sweet, with a pretty smile and dashing eyes to boot.

Jamie enters your conversation carefully, like she wants to help but isn’t forcing anything. Natasha pipes in a few times, but overwhelmingly, it’s you and Bob. Neither of you have ever spoken so much in this type of setting before, and it’s great. You bounce ideas and jokes and quips off of each other like you were meant to. You feel like you were meant to, because everything just comes so easily with Robert Floyd. You’re finally talking to someone who understands every bit of you, polishing the hidden parts of yourself until they shine. You never thought you could feel this way with another person.

“Wait, have you read this book called For One More Day?” You ask, finding every opportunity to drag out a subject you enjoy so deeply. “It’s really sad, like a fictional memoir, but I think you’d enjoy it. The whole story is basically an ode to loving your parents while they’re still around.”

“I haven’t, but I’ll be sure to check it out the next time I go go the library.” Bob says, giving a slightly lopsided grin that makes your heart scream. “It seems right up my alley though. I like non fiction books, mostly, but I could go for a change every once and a while.”

Your food is almost forgotten in the midst of the conversation, and his is too. “When you do read fiction, what genres do you go for? I have a million recommendations, so help me narrow them down a bit.”

Bob will never admit this to his friends, but he’s an avid reader. He’s a sucker for a true story or anything about dogs, however, he’d read anything you could ever think to tell him about. He has already made a mental note to check out For One More Day and is currently making more notes as you list off more dog-central books. You, as you’ve told him, go for more of the fancy prose-d, heavy drama-d, and emotion-filled stories. It’s nice to see you like this, talking about something you’re honestly passionate about. The light in your eyes makes you look like a ray of sunshine.

Jamie grins at Natasha from across the table, utterly and unashamedly content that her plot has worked. Natasha rolls her eyes. “Alright, you two,” Nat says, “can we move on to something more exciting? Like planning a second date, maybe. One where Jamie and I can be happy at home while you two nerd out.”

Bob’s face reddens and you give a small, sheepish smile. “I’d like that.” You say.

“Me too.” Bob adds. Natasha can firmly say that she’s never seen him so happy, not even after a successful flight. It’s like he’s finally found the thing that made him tick, like you reached into his chest and wound up the gear box in his heart. “I’m free this Friday, if you’re up for it.”

You tap your fingers on the tabletop, thinking. “This Friday… this Friday is when I’m doing a book reading for the kids at our local library at lunchtime. We could have dinner after that, though.” You want to spend the entire day with him, but if a few hours is all you’re given, you’ll take it. You’d take anything.

Bob’s hands move to touch yours, just barely. His warmth radiates out, perfectly soothing your nerves. “If you want, I can make lunch and help you out at the book reading. I like those kinds of things, but I don’t want to impose.”

“You absolutely should.” You breathe. “You wouldn’t be imposing at all. In fact, I think the kids would really like it if Mr. Naval Aviator read a few books to them. You’d be like a superhero in their eyes.”

You’re a bit astounded by how much Bob’s face flushes. If you thought he was a bit pink before, he’s got a drunk man’s glow now. And you were being completely, one hundred percent honest when you said that the kids would like him. They’d love him. Micah’s father was in the Navy when he was younger, so there’s one connection, and April loves airplanes with a passion. It would be amazing.

“Then I’ll be there. Here’s my number, so you can text me when and where.” Bob slides a little piece of paper over to you, one that he must have written a bit ago, because his pen is securely clipped to his pocket. He likes you so much he wrote down his number while you were (probably) explaining your love for reading, or crafts, or small animals? You’re going to swoon if he keeps this up.

Natasha eyes where your hand is touching Bob’s. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Now eat your food.” She gestures to your half-touched plates. You and Bob both stutter a little, completely having forgotten what you’re going to have to pay for.

The rest of the evening goes amazingly. You talk about so many subjects that by the end of the day, when the sun is slipping below the horizon, you feel like you’re floating on air— light and unburdened by the way you’ve been able to express yourself. Bob insisted on paying for your meal, and though you protested, a little part of you feels giddy that you’re worth spending money on. Bob walks you to your car, tucking your flowers into the cup holder between your seat and the passenger side.

“I really enjoyed that.” He muses. “I really enjoyed you. I thought Nat and Jamie were kinda full of it when they told me about this whole double date, but I’m glad they weren’t.”

“Me too, oh my gosh. I was totally expecting some stuck-up Navy nerd, but I’m glad it was you. I enjoy you too, Bob, probably way too much.” You’re standing by your door, but you feel like you can’t leave just yet.

He looks at you with something you hope to think is affection in his eyes before glancing down towards your lips. “I’ll let you get going. Text me anytime.”

You hesitate, staring up into his ocean blue eyes. Before you can stop yourself or tell yourself it’s a bad idea, you take the collar of his shirt in your hand and kiss him.

It feels right. His hand coming up to rest on your waist, his body pressed against yours as he stabilizes himself on your car, it’s everything you’ve always dreamed of. His lips work in tandem with your own, like they’re collaborating on some sort of secret mission, and he kisses you like he loves you.

His pupils are blown up and he’s panting just slightly when you pull away. He misses the feeling of your lips on his as soon as it ends, the tingling sensation working its way down his face. “T-Thank you…?” He whispers. You laugh, the sound music to his ears. He can hardly believe that that just happened.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Definitely.“

You give him a small peck on the cheek and step into your car, so happy you think you could explode. As you pull out, and as he waves at you from the parking lot, you make an effort to remember to thank Jamie and Natasha.

Who would’ve thought that you really would be birds of a feather?

Taglist: @seitmai

[storiesforallfandoms]

too sweet ~ joel miller;the last of us

word count: 3128

request?: no

description: in which his friend's daughter comes on to him and he tries to convince her that they can't be together...tries

pairing: dbf!joel miller x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is early 20s, joel is 36), use of y/n, pre-outbreak/no outbreak, joel did not know the reader before she was 18 because that would be icky

based on this song (which joel miller now owns sorry hozier)

masterlist (one, two, three)

The barbeque was already in full swing as Joel pulled up with Tommy and Sarah. It was a small party his buddy from work, George, was throwing for the start of summer. Everyone was invited, plus significant others and kids. George's house and backyard was huge with a pool, so everyone had happily accepted the invitation.

George and the other guys from work were stood around the barbeque. Tommy went to join them right away. Joel looked down at Sarah. "Go play with the kids."

Sarah looked over at "the kids", which were mainly kids between 2 and 6 years old. There were maybe two other preteens, but they didn't seem to be as social as the younger kids. Sarah looked back at Joel with a skeptical look on her face. Joel nudged her forward before going to join the other men.

"Hey, there he is!" George said. "Glad you made it, Joel."

"Yeah, thanks for the invite," Joel said.

George offered him a beer. "I was just telling the others that my daughter got home early today to surprise Mary and I."

"You're always talking about your daughter, but none of us have ever met her," Tommy noted.

"Oh, that's on purpose with you, Tommy. I wouldn't let you within ten feet of her." The group laughed as Tommy put his hands up in mock surrender. "She's been away for college. She doesn't get to visit a lot besides the summers. We thought she wouldn't be home for another few weeks, but she wanted to surprise us."

George served the first round of burgers to the kids first, then to whoever else wanted whatever was left. Joel was able to snatch one burger before the rest were claimed. He took his plate over to the table where George and his wife had condiments set out. As he was putting ketchup on his burger, a woman stepped up beside him. He glanced at her briefly, and had to stop himself from doing a double take. He had never seen her before, but she was beautiful. He didn't want to stare like a creep, but he did take another quick moment to appreciate her beauty.

She reached for the bottle of ketchup Joel had just put down. That's when Joel noticed she had two burgers on her plate.

"You got lucky there," he said, nodding to her plate.

She looked between her plate and his before chuckling. "You have to act fast. These people are vultures when they smell fresh barbequed meat."

Joel chuckled as well. He picked up his plate and his beer to move along, when two kids suddenly came barreling towards the table. One of them ran into the woman, causing her to stumble into Joel and knock his beer over the front of his shirt. The two kids gasped, then giggled in the unserious way young kids do, before grabbing ketchup and mustard, and running off again.

"Shit, I am so sorry," the woman said.

"S'all right, wasn't your fault," Joel assured her.

She grabbed a handful of napkins and started to dab Joel's shirt. She scrunched up her nose as she tries to get the beer out of his shirt. It was the cutest look Joel had ever seen.

"You're going to reek of beer," she said.

"Maybe you can dump my burger on me and make smell like grease instead."

She glared at him, but there was a playful look in her eyes.

Joel's breath hitched as she slipped her hand under his shirt and pressed the napkin against her hand through the shirt. If she touched his chest, she would feel how quickly his heart was beating. She looked up from the beer spill into Joel's eyes. Her hand paused its movements as they held eye contact.

"What's going on over here?"

She pulled her hand from under Joel's shirt and discarded the wet napkin onto the table next to them as George walked up. "Two of the kids ran into us and I spilled beer over...um..."

Joel realized they hadn't been formally introduced yet. "Joel."

"I spilled beer over Joel's shirt. I'm trying to soak it up as much as I can."

"You're better off getting another shirt," George said. "Even if you dry off, it'll have that beer smell all day. Run inside and grab a t-shirt from my room, honey."

The woman took off towards George's house. It took Joel a moment to realize what George had said. "Wait, is that...?"

George chuckled and nodded. "What a way for you to meet my daughter, huh?"

It may have been dramatic to say, but for a moment, it felt like everything crashed down around Joel. He almost felt wrong for having any sort of attraction towards her knowing now that she was George's daughter. He knew she wasn't terribly young; she'd be in her early 20s going by what he knew from George. But, that was still an almost 20 year age difference, and Joel was friends with her dad. It wouldn't be right for him to pursue her, no matter how much he wanted to.

She came back with a black t-shirt and offered it to Joel. As he took it, she said, "My name is (Y/N), by the way."

"Nice to meet you," Joel said.

He took the shirt and went into the house to change. When he came back out, George had gotten him another beer and more food. If he had seen anything between Joel and (Y/N), he wasn't letting on.

For the rest of the evening, Joel made sure to avoid (Y/N). He could see her looking at him every so often. She would try and approach him or talk to him, but he would find a reason to walk away. After a few hours, when he was sure Tommy wouldn't complain about wanting to stay, Joel decided it was time to go. He thanked George for having them over and rounded up Sarah and Tommy to go. As they walked to the truck, Tommy said, "You have a thing for the daughter, huh?"

"Big thing," Sarah agreed.

Joel ignored them both and got into the truck.

It was hard to forget about (Y/N). Joel thought that once he had left, he'd be able to put (Y/N) out of his mind. He wouldn't have to see her again, so all the thoughts he had about her should've stayed at the party. That's how he thought it would go, anyways, but things rarely ever go as planned. Instead, Joel found his thoughts were almost constantly consumed by (Y/N). Especially when he was alone at night, with nothing to distract himself. The image of her would come to him as he was laying in bed, trying to sleep. He knew it should've felt wrong, but his want for her outweighed the knowing that he shouldn't want her.

The next time Joel saw (Y/N) was during work. He and the guys were taking a break from their latest project when a car pulled up to the site. Joel had glanced over for a second as the door opened and someone got out, just to see who it was. He looked away, but then his brain registered who it was and his head quickly swung back around to look at her.

(Y/N) was in a pair of the shortest shorts Joel had ever seen, and was wearing a tank top. There was nothing inherently wrong with the way she was dressed. It was a hot day out after all. But seeing her like that made Joel's inappropriate thoughts run wild, which was not a good thing considering George was sat just a few feet from him.

"Hey sweetheart!" George called. "What are you doin'?"

"Mom told me to bring you your lunch," (Y/N) responded as she approached the group. She held out a paper bag to her dad. "You left it on the counter."

"God bless that woman," George said as he took the bag. "I was already an hour into work before I realized I had left it home. I thought I'd have to run down the street and get a sandwich or something."

"You know mom wouldn't have let you do that," (Y/N) said, giving her dad a bright smile that managed to distract Joel from the way she was dressed.

(Y/N) stuck around for the rest of their break as everyone started asking her questions. Joel tried to keep his focus on his own food, but it was nearly impossible not to look at her. It was like she was a magnet trying to draw him in.

When the rest of the guys got up to go, Joel lingered back. He shouldn't, but the way (Y/N) was looking at him told her that she wasn't about to let him leave so easily anyways.

"We have some unfinished business," she told him.

"Do we?" Joel asked. "Last I checked, there was nothing else to happen after our last encounter."

"You were ignoring me that whole party," (Y/N) said. "After we seemed to have a pretty good connection after I bumped you. I think I deserve to know why you suddenly changed your mind."

"You got that idea from a short interaction?"

"I saw the way you looked at me, Joel. I'm not an idiot."

Joel sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, (Y/N), you know why I changed my mind. You're a smart girl, I'm sure you figured it out on your own."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "I had a feeling. I was just hoping I was wrong."

"I do think you are a beautiful woman, but nothing can happen between us. You're too young - "

"I am an adult!" she argued.

"You are a young adult. I still have at least 16 years on you. I have a daughter, a career. You're still young and in college trying to make something for yourself. Not to mention, your dad is a good friend of mine. He would kill me if he found out anything was happening between us."

(Y/N) broke their eye contact to look down at the ground. Her mood had completely changed, and Joel could see it in her face. He felt bad to have to reject her, but it was the right thing to do. He couldn't have her throwing herself at him when they both knew it wasn't right. She would be better off finding someone her own age while at school - a thought that made Joel's heart ache, but he knew it was better for her.

"It was nice to meet you, Joel," she said before turning to walk away.

Joel watched her go back to the car. He could see the dejected look on her face as she got into the driver's side. He shook his head, trying not to linger too much on how rejecting her made him feel, before turning to go back to work.

~~~~~~

About a week later, George had invited Joel and Sarah over for dinner. It wasn't unusual for him to do so. He said that Mary enjoyed having more people to cook for, especially when (Y/N) was gone. And usually, Joel accepted in a heartbeat. He and Sarah loved Mary's cooking. Actually, Sarah often said that she preferred it to Joel's.

But this time when George asked, Joel hesitated. He came up with some excuse that he and Sarah had other plans. When he hung up, Sarah was stood in the doorway with her arms crossed.

"We don't have plans," she said.

"No, we don't," Joel said with a defeated sigh. There was no arguing or lying to Sarah.

"Then why did you say we did?"

"I just don't feel up to going to George's tonight."

"You can't avoid going there all summer just because you have a thing for (Y/N). He'll start to get suspicious eventually."

Joel glared at his daughter. "You know entirely too much for a 14 year old."

"I'm very perceptive. Call George back and tell him we're coming, or I will."

And that's how Joel found himself following Sarah to George and Mary's front door. Sarah turned the knob and let them in, another usual. There was no need for knocking when they were already so familiar with the place. Mary was the first to greet them, pulling Sarah into a hug and commenting about how much she's grown. She hugged Joel as well and told him that George was in the living room.

George and Joel sat on the couch watching TV while Sarah sat on the floor in front of them.

"Do you need any help?" Sarah asked Mary.

"Oh, thank you honey, but I'll be alright," Mary responded. "I have my own girl here to help me tonight."

Joel tensed for a moment at the mention of (Y/N), but tried to calm himself down so that George wouldn't notice.

After about 20 minutes, (Y/N) appeared in the living room to tell them that dinner was ready. Joel couldn't help himself from looking at her. She was wearing a floral summer dress that was down to her knees and had spaghetti straps, and her hair was pulled back into a braid. She looked absolutely stunning. And now he was mentally cursing himself for giving into Sarah.

They sat around the table, with George and Mary at the heads, Joel on one side by himself, and Sarah and (Y/N) sat next to each other. Luckily for him, Sarah spearheaded most of the conversations. If Mary wasn't asking Sarah how things were going with her, Sarah was asking (Y/N) about herself. The two got along so well that Joel couldn't help but picture how Sarah would be if (Y/N) was around all the time.

Between dinner and dessert, Joel excused himself to go to the bathroom. As he came out a few minutes later, he found (Y/N) stood on the other side of the door.

"Sorry," she said, backing up to give him some space. "I wasn't coming to ambush you again, I promise. I actually have to use the bathroom."

"It's okay," Joel said.

But neither of them made a move. They just stood there on opposite sides of the hallway, looking at one another.

"Sarah's nice," (Y/N) finally said, breaking the silence. "She seems like a great kid."

"She is," Joel said. "She seems to like you, too."

"I like her, too."

Silence fell over them again. (Y/N) was avoiding eye contact. Joel longed to reach out for her and tilt her head back so he could look into those beautiful eyes. Keeping his hands to his side was starting to become a difficult task.

"I'm sorry about that day at your work," (Y/N) said, being the one to break the silence again. "I went with the intention of trying to get your attention, and it really wasn't fair of me. I understand why you don't want to be with me, and it was foolish of me to think there was a possibility of anything happening between us."

"You weren't foolish," Joel told her.

She let out a sound that was half laugh, half scoff. "No, I was. I knew from the moment we met that there was no way anything would happen between us. I just really hoped that maybe my assumption in that was wrong and you wanted me enough to look past my age. I mean, I'm not a kid by any means, but I do understand how our age gap would make you feel uncomfortable."

Joel was moving before his mind could process what he was doing. (Y/N) was mid sentence as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a kiss. It had been what he was thinking of for so long that he had officially lost the battle of restraint with his own body. And the kiss was everything he could've expected it to be. Her lips were so soft, her body fit perfectly against his. He wanted to let his hands wander, to travel up the hem of her dress and see how far she would let him go, but that was definitely not something that could happen at this time.

When they broke away, (Y/N) was looking at him in awe.

"You're not foolish," he repeated.

"I might be, because I want to do that again."

He chuckled. "Yeah, me too. But we probably shouldn't be gone for much longer or else someone may come looking for us."

"You're right." Reluctantly, (Y/N) pulled out of Joel's arms. He already felt wrong not holding her. "Are you sure about...what we just did? You're not regretting it, are you?"

"I may regret it later, but right now I don't," he said. "I just want you to realize what you're getting into if we do let this happen between us. For one, your parents aren't going to be happy. When the summer ends, you'll be going back to your college campus full of guys who are actually around your age."

(Y/N) scoffed. "You're giving 20 year old guys way more credit than they deserve. Most of them act as if they were mentally stunted in their freshman year of high school and likely won't mature until they hit their 30s."

"Okay, fair point," Joel chuckled. "But you also realize you're getting into something with an older man who has a daughter, right? I'm not saying that if things get serious between us that you have to become a mother figure to Sarah, but dating someone with a kid is different."

"I like Sarah, Joel. I would love to do things with you and with her if she's comfortable about it. Genuinely, I'm seeing no downsides here."

Joel smiled and he couldn't stop himself from quickly kissing (Y/N) again.

"Go back to the dining room before they start to wonder where we are," she told him. "I was being honest when I said I had to use the bathroom."

Joel chuckled and kissed the top of her head before letting her go into the bathroom. When he came back to the table, Mary was putting the dessert on the table. The three looked up at him as he slid back into his seat.

"Everything alright?" George asked. "You were gone for a while."

"Oh yeah, everything's fine," Joel assured him. "Just got a bit...held up in the bathroom. Poor (Y/N) had to wait forever for me to come out."

Across the table, Sarah was giving Joel a knowing look, and started to smile.

[esggs]

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#6 - Husbandly Duties

[noritoshi kamo wrangles with his family to get you into jujutsu tech school + gojo satoru keeps his word]

[tw : 1000+ words, noritoshi kamo x reader, child marriage, arranged marriage, misogyny, girlie gets access to schooling, malala would like this chapter]

#5 - Man and Wife #7 - Jealousy, Jealousy

Gojo Satoru stood on the doorstep of the Kamo Clan the next morning. “Am I too early? I stopped to pick up a present for the newlyweds!”

Within the next ten minutes, Noritoshi had been woken up, urgently dressed and washed, and sat in front of Gojo Satoru, with all the elders of the family in tow. Satoru’s sudden arrival had soured the mood of the whole family; everyone expected some upsetting news or the other. Satoru himself seemed to take no notice of this. “Is your wife bothering you already, Noritoshi-kun?” He beamed at the half-awake half-worried young heir. “She’s so bossy! As her benefactor, I can tell that she’s a handful!”. 

Benefactor, huh? Noritoshi was impressed, quite frankly. Somehow or the other, you had won the support of Gojo Satoru himself, and that too secretly. Since the conversation was turning to his wife, he had no choice but to speak. I’m in no mood for your nonsense. Spit it out, Gojo.

“My wife has been sweet, Gojo-sensei. How have you been?” He answered. “Would you like some tea?” Satoru understood what he meant-- “How important is this conversation?” 

“I believe we should all have some.” (“Important and involving the whole family. Sorry”)

Gojo had come here to vouch for your admission into Jujutsu High Tech School. Apparently, it was the wedding gift from the Gojo Clan to the newly bridged Zenin-Kamo one: Satoru himself would overlook the education of the young couple. On the surface, it seemed a rare opportunity to learn from the strongest sorcerer himself. But every Kamo family member sitting in the room understood the threat behind his words: The young bride is now under my protection. I’ll keep an eye out for her. Don’t cross me. 

The Kamos erupted with anger, all polite social manners thrown to the winds. Noritoshi’s father threw a tea-cup at Satoru (blocked by his Infinity) and an uncle called him a “flyhead meddling in an ox’s dung”. 

Satoru watched as Noritoshi sighed and started to calm people down. He requested the women to not trouble themselves with inelegant family matters anymore, and they silently left the room. Then he ordered the servants to clean up the spilled tea, get some fresh oolong out, and light some incense. Finally, he waited till his male relatives cooled off by themselves (took a few minutes) before finally speaking up: “My apologies, Father, Grandfather. But I would feel rather insulted as a man, albeit a young one, if matters of my wife were to be discussed with other men. Do I have your permission to speak to Gojo-sensei alone about this?”

“No, no– you’re too soft on–” 

“Let him, son.” Noritoshi’s grandfather placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. “He’s a man now. He knows how to think. Show our Satoru-kun the gardens, Noritoshi.”

Amazing. Gojo really appreciated the boy now. He handles people so easily. Noritoshi bowed low to them and gracefully guided Satoru to walk with him in the gardens. Like you did, some months ago.

“My apologies, Gojo-sensei.”

“No, no, the tea was good though.”

“Ah, it’s from our own gardens. So about Zenin-san…”

“She wants to join Jujutsu High." Satoru replied. “You’ve no problems with it, I suppose.”

“Hmm” Noritoshi took a minute to fully consider it. It's fine, right? I don't see how this could hurt anyone. As long as she behaves herself, it should be fine. “None, I think. Besides, her cousin Mai studies with me too.”

Noritoshi had wanted to look Gojo fully in the eye and ask, why? What does she have over you that you are helping her so much? What secrets do you keep amongst you two? Why does she trust you so well?

Of course, Noritoshi didn’t say a word. He just nodded and signed the stack of paperwork for your school admission. He had full rights to do so. He was your guardian, after all. His hand stayed a bit before signing a paper declaring that ‘The liability of said sorcerer's death falls upon the undersigned.’ But he signed it anyway. 

His family was screamed at him later on for allowing you to leave for school. He saw you snickering at him from behind the curtains, watching him get yelled at for your sake. He scoffed. What a fucking pain in the ass kid. 

—--

“You know, you could have just told me.” Noritoshi and you are back in your bedroom again. You look up from the Jackie Chan movie playing on the TV as you laze on the sofa. 

Damn. Noritoshi is just getting out of the shower, towelling his hair dry roughly, clad only in his soft blue bathrobe. You can see drops of water dripping down his face to his broad chest. You quickly look away. Damn, Kamo. “Aghh, cover up, idiot! What the heck are you doing?” You grit out. “Shameless ass!”

He grumbles at that. “At least say thank you”. Ungrateful little bastard. You manage to piss him off like no one ever can. Except Todo, maybe. “If you had only told me about Gojo-sensei beforehand, everything would have gone by a lot smoother.”

You choose to pretend that you can’t hear anything, instead turning up the volume of the TV. You know exactly how to get under his skin. Actually, you weren’t too sure that Noritoshi would agree to your schooling as quickly as he did; you don’t actually know Noritoshi, do you? You did have a few cards up your sleeve to get him to acquiesce to your wishes (you had those cards on everybody, actually. It’s good armour for someone as defenceless as you.)

Noritoshi chooses to answer your silence with his own silence. You two were leaving for school less than a week now, even though you were going to the Tokyo school (Satoru Gojo’s personal request). Less than a week and he’d be rid of his annoying immature wife. 

He huffed at the thought, pulling a yukata onto him. You make it a distinct point NOT to look at him when he’s changing, no matter how red your face gets at the thought. One week and I’m out of here. He casts a look back at you. Oh, you’re blushing? How cute of you. His heart softened a little. Her, a sorcerer? Gods look after her. 

#7 - Jealousy, Jealousy

art from the amazing @null-cult, go check out their stuff, it's so cool. thanks for letting me use it!!

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman - Part 8

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe : Military School

Words :

TW: Alcohol

Masterlist

——————————————————————

Saturday, October 24; 9:05 AM - Ona's Room

I try to get out of bed without waking anyone around me. Damn camp habits. Bronze had warned me that I'd get into a new rhythm. Now I'm like clockwork at ridiculous hours. I used to wake up around noon, not nine! Once I'm out of bed without a hitch, I grab some clothes from my closet and lock myself in the bathroom. With everything that happened last night, I didn't have the courage to take a shower before bed. So, I start my day by letting myself relax under the warm water jets. I take my time since the Mapi and Joan certainly won't be awake for a good hour. It's the calm before the storm. Joan promised me a surprise if I came back. That's probably still on since the others knew I was coming back. Hopefully, he hasn't invited the whole family. He loves everyone, unlike me. I get out of the shower after fifteen minutes. I don't risk turning on the hairdryer with the two sleepyheads, so I dry off with just a towel. I get dressed and brush my teeth. I finish with a touch of makeup before going downstairs. It's time to see the others. I'm glad not to run into my mom or Marcus on the way. However, I smile when I see Samuel and Sofia in the kitchen. My smile widens at the sight of their faces.

"Oh my God,Ona!" says Sam, hugging me. "Happy birthday!"

"Already awake!?" Sofia is surprised. "Happy birthday, sweetie."

"Thanks, that's kind of you," I reply, hugging her in turn. "I missed you guys."

"And we missed you! Everything's been so quiet since you left."

"No one to bother us," Sofia adds.

"I'm only here for two days, but I plan to make up for it," I tease them.

"No doubt," laughs Sam. "Do you want your breakfast now, or are you waiting for the girls?"

"Given when they'll wake up, I'll have it now."

He nods with a smile and gets to work. I find my spot at the bar. I no longer insist that I can cook for myself. He always brushes me off when I do. He keeps telling me it's his job. It's true, but it makes me feel like I'm being pampered. I hate that idea because it reminds me that I won't be able to do anything when I leave home. I won't complain either. His dishes are delicious. They have nothing to do with camp food. Besides, it's nice to do nothing, so might as well enjoy it.

"Since when do you get up so early? That's not like you," Sofia comments.

"I've been like clockwork for a week. Curfew at ten PM and wake-up at six. I guess I haven't lost the habit."

"Isn't it too hard?"Samuel replies

"No, it's fine. I prefer it this way. »

"Seen like that... Knowing you, you probably slept the whole way."

"Yeah," I chuckle. "Thanks," I say when he places my breakfast in front of me.

"You're welcome, miss," he teases with a wink.

He made me a cup of hot chocolate and a homemade croissant. Everyone would say there's not much difference from my camp breakfast, but for me, it's a big change. Sam knows how to perfectly dose my hot chocolate, and his homemade croissant is life. I savor it all, letting out a sigh of satisfaction.

"Did you miss it?" he chuckles.

"Totally, yeah!"

"I'm flattered," he says, making me smile.

"Have you received any birthday messages?" Sofia asks.

"I was about to check now."

"What? You haven't checked yet?" she exclaims. "My God, what have they done to our Ona?"

I chuckle lightly. I was asking myself the same thing, actually. I'm much less on my phone. I no longer have the reflex to check it upon waking up due to our fifteen-minute preparation time. I suspect the school did it on purpose to give us such a short deadline. I should have asked Bronze; she would have answered me. It's like the shower. We had to change our habit with Alexia and take it in the evening to be at ease. Anyway, I decide to take out my phone, which is swamped with social media notifications and messages. I start with the messages. Alexia, Leah , Alba... All my camp friends thought of me. They're so sweet! I also have other messages from old friends here, which really pleases me. I take the time to reply to everyone while chatting about trivial things with Sam and Sofia . I talk to them about my new life while they tell me about Joan's antics since I left. It seems he doesn't stop. He's decided to avenge my departure by being a perfect little rascal. He throws fits over nothing and barely listens to my mom or Marcus. Sofia or Sam often have to step in. I think he's decided to follow my example, which I don't really like. I'll need to have a little chat with him. Speaking of him, he just walked in and immediately comes over to me.

"Hi Oni ."

"Hello little rascal. Slept well?"

"Yes! Mapi is still sleeping."

"Let her sleep, she'll be down soon."

"Can I have my breakfast please ?" he asks Samuel.

"I'll bring it to the dining room in five minutes."

"Can't I have it here?" he pouts. "I want to stay with you!"

"Of course you can. Come, I'll put you in the chair next to me."

"I want to sit on your lap!"

"Alright, alright, as you wish," I laugh. "Come here."

I lift him under the arms and easily place him on my lap. I hold him with one hand and grab my cup with the other so Sam can put Joan's plate instead of mine, which is now empty. I smile as he starts telling me about the weeks I missed while eating. Of course, I don't hear any of his mischief from his mouth. I prefer not to spoil the moment and deal with that problem later. Mapi finally shows up around 10:30. I expected to see her later.

"When did you get up?"

"Nine o'clock."

"Good God, they must have brainwashed you," she grumbles, sitting next to me.

"Don't you start too," I laugh.

"Are you staying for breakfast, Mapi ?" Sam asks.

"What kind of question is that!"

I giggle, finding the question as silly as Mapi does. She's like the third daughter of the family, after all. I wait for her to finish her breakfast while chatting. Joan abandoned us halfway to go upstairs. I don't comment on it, but I feel like something's up.

"Maps?"

"Hmm?" she replies with her mouth full.

"What does Jo have planned?"

"Nothing, why?"

"We both know you can't lie."

"Stop being impatient, you'll see."

"Mapi..." I say, making puppy dog eyes.

"No, no need for that face! I'm not telling you anything!"

I sigh, pouting, making her smile. She used to be easier to convince, in my memories.

"By the way," she says.

"Yeah?"

"We're going out tonight."

"You're not serious?"

"I am, and it's non-negotiable. You haven't been to a party since-"

"A year and a half," I finish her sentence.

"I was going to say a century, but it's almost the same. Come on, please! It can only do you good!" she says, giving me puppy dog eyes.

"Stop imitating me," I say, her expression worsening. "Oh, you're annoying! Fine, you win," I grumble.

She lets out a cry of joy and does a dance in the middle of the kitchen. It stops quickly when my mom enters the room. It's the first time we've seen each other since my troubled departure, which didn't end particularly well.

"Oh, hi Abby," she blushes.

"Hi Mapi, it's been a while," she says before turning to me. "Happy birthday, Ona," she says hesitantly.

"Thanks."

I won't ruin my birthday by venting my hateful thoughts. My voice betrays me slightly. It's not like we have a good relationship to begin with. Everything just got worse when she decided to send me across the country.

"How's school?" she asks.

"Oh, great, Mom," I say sarcastically. "If you wanted me to be monitored all the time, you nailed it!"

She sighs at my anger that I couldn't hold back any longer. What a question to ask! She finally gives up on the conversation and turns to Mapi.

"And you, Mapi ? How's your leg?"

"Good, I'd say. I still don't have any pain for now."

"That's at least some good news... See you later, girls," she finishes, leaving the room.

My mom has been Mapi's doctor since we met. She had an accident with her parents when she was little. She came out with a slightly disabled leg. They developed a special bond. My mom is certainly closer to Mapi than to me. It's ironic, given that Mapi doesn't have this bond with her parents. She left their house at the first opportunity. I'm glad she found this bond with my mom, but I'm also jealous. She got the maternal instinct from my mom that I didn't get. As long as it doesn't stop Mapi from listening to me when I complain about my mom, I don't care about their relationship.

"Shall we get ready?"

"I'm already ready, Mapi."

"Are you kidding? Your hair is a mess. And don't tell me you're going to spend the day in jeans and a shirt?" she criticizes, looking me over.

"Hey! My outfit is perfect!"

"There's no way you're staying like that on your birthday! Come on, get up!"

"Oh, please Maps, shut up. You sound like my camp supervisor."

She forces me off my chair, laughing. I let her drag me to my room. I don't know why, but I feel like I'm not going to enjoy what's next.

Saturday, October 24; 11:35 AM - Ona's Room

Mapi has been hogging my bathroom for a while now, even though the shower hasn't been running for some time. Knowing her, I probably have a bit more time before she comes out. She made me put on a dress. Me, in a dress! It's been ages since I last wore one. But that's the least of my worries right now. I was lying on the bed, enjoying the quiet, when I had the brilliant idea to charge my headphones for the return flight. So, I took them out, but I also came across another gift that I had completely forgotten about. Bronze's gift... I wondered why I listened to her and didn’t open it right away. I could have easily done it in the taxi without her knowing.

"What's that?" Mapi snaps me out of my bubble.

"A gift."

"Thanks, I figured that out," she replies sarcastically. "From whom?"

"My supervisor," I sigh.

"Sexy commander?"

"Stop calling her that," I scold, giving her a dark look.

"Oh my! What are you waiting for to open it?"

"I don't know."

"Want me to do it for you?"

"No!" I reply much too quickly.

"Well, do it then."

I feel ridiculous for not doing it, but I'm disturbed. I don't know what to expect; she doesn't know me. I sigh and start to carefully unwrap the paper under Mapi's watchful eye. Besides, she already contributed to the headphones. It's silly for her to give me a second gift. Mapi mocks my slowness, but I don't let it bother me. I frown as I finally see the contents. For now, I'm only paying attention to the small card placed on top of the box. I turn it over to find a note. I smile, recognizing her handwriting that I've seen several times during my tidying in her office.

"After so much effort... A well-deserved reward! Hoping you'll continue down this path. Happy birthday, Ona. - L. B."

My smile doesn't leave my face. L. B.? So her first name starts with an "L"? The "B" surely stands for her last name. I place the card next to me on the bed and remove the lid of the box to discover the rest. I'm left speechless.

"Wow. Sexy Commander really went all out! This stuff isn't cheap, is it?"

"No... She’s insane!"

I can’t believe my eyes. It’s my favorite brand for drawing supplies. One of the most expensive for its quality. Even Mapi recognizes it, having come with me to buy it before. It's a set with different pencils, pens, and brushes of all sizes. She also included a sketchbook underneath. There’s everything needed to create artworks. It's a real treat for an amateur artist like me.

"She must really like you to give you all this."

"That's not really the case," I laugh. "We were at war for three weeks. I even went so far as to trash her room. Didn't I tell you?"

"Yes, you did," she laughs. "But she wouldn’t have given you such a gift if she didn’t like you at least a little! Seriously, this stuff costs a fortune!"

I can't argue with her. She must have spent quite a bit. Not to mention her contribution to the headphones. They’re worth at least two hundred euros, and I doubt the others managed to pitch in that much between the six of them. We’re interrupted by my brother entering my room without knocking.

"Ona? When are you coming down?"

"We’re coming right away," Mapi answers for me. "Just let your sister put away her new toys."

"Ha ha ha!"

I remove the wrapping to throw it away before packing my new supplies into my backpack. I plan to take this one to camp. I have everything I need here, unlike there. I unplug my now charged headphones and put them in the bag.

"We can go."

Nothing could make my brother happier. He pulls me as hard as he can out of my room. Mapi follows behind us after closing my door.

"Hurry up!"

"Calm down, Joan. There's no rush!"

"She’s using my old expressions!"

I look up as my foot touches the ground floor. The shock stops me in my tracks. I’d recognize that voice anywhere. My eyes well up when I see him in person before me. I never expected to see him here again.

"You're ruining your makeup," Mapi whispers to me.

I ignore the comment meant to make me laugh. I don't want to spoil this important moment. I go to my grandfather, who takes me in his arms. It’s been two years since I last saw him. All my emotions pour out once again.

"Grandpa!"

"You haven't changed a bit," he says, making me smile.

I can't believe he made the trip from Portugal just to see me. It’s insane! I’ve always been very close to him because he bears a striking resemblance to my father, both physically and mentally. We share a very special bond, just like I did with my father.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Did you think we’d miss our granddaughter’s birthday?"

I turn towards the other voice to see my maternal grandmother. I smile warmly at her. It’s not that I love her any less, far from it. She’s just as adorable as my grandfather. But she lives in Barcelona, so I see her much more often than him. I still greet her with a hug, happy to see her here.

"How about we celebrate Ona’s birthday and chat over a drink in the living room?"

We all agree to Marcus' suggestion. I hadn't even noticed him enter the hall. Joan impatiently drags me to the next room. In the end, I might really enjoy this birthday. I'm still on bad terms with my mom and Marcus, but I put my resentment aside for this moment. The atmosphere was tense at first, but Mapi is here to lighten things up. She’s great at diffusing awkward situations. Joan also helps by talking non-stop. That’s how the conversation topics emerged. We talked about daily life and then reminisced about past years. The festivities were kicked off by my grandfather sharing stories from when I lived in Portugal or visited on vacations. Mapi had a good laugh at some of the stories. I'm the first to laugh as I remember them. We’re interrupted by Sam announcing that the meal is ready. We move to the dining room where a perfectly set table awaits. The only times I’ve eaten here are for celebrations like today. I can count them on my fingers. I smile when I see the dish. Sam prepared paella, one of my favorite dishes. He knows my tastes well from cooking for me. The good mood continues through dinner. It’s the first time there’s been so much cheer in this room. Usually, it witnesses crises or arguments. That’s one reason I rarely set foot in here. It’s where I learned about my departure to Manchester , for example. I'm delighted that today’s event changes things for this place. I’m happy to be surrounded by my loved ones today.

Saturday, October 24th; 9:30 PM - Barcelona Street.

I sigh for the umpteenth time since we left the house. I try my best to keep up with Mapi, who is ahead of me.

“Slow down!” I shout. “It’s bad enough that you made me come out, but you’re also making me wear heels. The least you could do is wait for me! These things are a death trap!”

“Didn’t they teach you to complain less in that damn school of yours?” Mapi teases.

“Ha ha ha! Very funny. You know it’s my specialty, and it will never be taken away from me!”

Focusing too much on my feet, I bump into Mapi’s back as she suddenly stops without warning. I look up and realize we’ve arrived. It’s not hard to figure out with the loud music blasting from the house across the street.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. This is our Party?”

“Yep!”

“A college party, really? At our old high school friends’ house, no less?” I grumble.

“I figured going to a familiar place would be best… Oh, come on, don’t make that face! I told them about your big return, and they were all thrilled to know you’d be coming tonight.”

“Damn it, Maps…”

“Relax a bit. You need this night out, and we both know it.”

She stops me from protesting by pulling my arm. I attempt to walk as normally as possible in my heels. I hate wearing these things. Mapi knows I never walk very straight in them. I’m usually all about flat shoes. As soon as we step inside, the music pounds in my ears. I wonder how I ended up here. I doubt it’s a good idea. It’s been so long since I’ve been to a party. I already regret giving in to my best friend’s puppy-dog eyes. I regret it even more as we approach the host and my old high school friends, whom I abandoned years ago.

“Hey, look who it is!”

I timidly step forward from behind Mapi, who is still holding me firmly. She must know that if she let go, I’d already be running away. Especially since Nathan Miller, the host, makes me uncomfortable with his comment.

“Hi everyone! As promised, I brought our favorite girl.”

“Hey…” I say timidly. “Good to see you all…”

“You too, sweetheart. I hope you haven’t forgotten us after all this time!”

Why was I so worried? They have every reason to hate me, but they don’t. Maybe because they’re all guys. Let’s face it, they’re less complicated in friendships. I smile at Kyle’s comment and feel the pressure lift from my shoulders. I didn’t expect to see him here. I eagerly await Mapi’s explanation for this. They all surprise me by wishing me a happy birthday. Mapi must have reminded them before we came. It still makes me happy.

“Ana didn’t come with you tonight?” Bryan asks.

“No. She was supposed to, but she ended up at another party. She wanted me to go with her, but I chose to spend the weekend with Ona. By the way,” she says. “She wants to meet you when you come back,” she tells me.

“No problem, I’m looking forward to it.”

“She’s a real nutcase, don’t be too eager to meet her,” Connor whispers to me.

“Hey, I heard that!” Mapi retorts. “Don’t call my girlfriend crazy, or you’ll see!”

“Well, you have to be a bit crazy to date you, don’t you think?”

“Are you implying you’re crazy, by any chance?”

“Oh, but I’ve always claimed that, haven’t I?” I join in.

“All right, 1-0, Batlle,” she says, making me smile. “We’re going for a walk, we’ll catch up with you later.”

“No worries, see you later, girls,” Nathan replies.

I just lifted a weight off my shoulders seeing them. We hadn’t seen each other since the end of high school, yet nothing has changed. They were my last group of friends before my downfall and ghosting them. I thought no one would want to talk to me anymore, but they don’t seem to hold it against me.

“What’s Kyle Wick doing here? Have I missed that much?”

“Oh yes,” she laughs. “Let’s get a drink before we go outside to talk. Does that sound good?”

I nod, and we head to the table serving as a drink buffet. Numerous red and blue cups are arranged there. We grab two clean red cups, and I let Mapi serve us. That was always her role when we went to parties. She probably knows my tastes in alcohol better than I do. She hands me my cup and surprises me by also handing me a bottle of coke. I smile, seeing that she’s holding a bottle of orange juice and vodka under her arm. Well, she’s right. Might as well enjoy it if I’m already here. We head outside, where there are fewer people. Luckily, two lounge chairs by the pool are free. We sit next to each other. I finally take a big gulp of my drink, closing my eyes as it burns my throat. Mapi laughs at me. There’s a reason to laugh. I haven’t had a drop in a long time, and it feels great!

“So, what do I need to know?”

“Hmm, well… let’s see…” she pretends to think. “First, Miller and Bryan are dating.”

I spit out the liquid I was supposed to swallow. My head quickly turns to Mapi. She answers before I can open my mouth.

“Yeah, I was as shocked as you are,” she giggles. “They confessed their love for each other a year ago now. We were all stunned. I chose not to tell you at the time… You were in the middle of… well, you know.”

“Yes, I understand… Oh my god,” I laugh in shock. “I didn’t see that coming and, I didn’t expect to see him here.”

“He’s become friends with my friends,” she shrugs. “I can’t blame him. »

“And Connor?”

“Not much on that front. He brought a girl recently, but it didn’t lead to anything.”

“I didn’t think you’d still be hanging out with them,” I admitted.

“Except for you, we all stayed around for college,” she shrugs. “We just kept in touch, I thought it was good.”

“It’s true,” I say, lowering my head.

“You don’t have to feel guilty, Ona. We don’t blame you. We know it was hard for you.”

I hide my sadness behind a smile. She shifts to a few juicy stories from parties or other events during my absence. I regret not being able to join in. The stories were pretty funny. An hour and a half later, after finishing three-quarters of the bottle between us, we decide to join the others around the patio table. I’m tipsy enough to agree to play silly games I would have hated if I were sober. My state doesn’t improve after several shots during “Never Have I Ever.” Mapi took the opportunity to drag me to the dance floor right after. She knows it’s the only time she can get me there, thanks to the confidence alcohol gives me. We have fun dancing closely. After a while, I notice the boys have joined us. They must not be in a better state than me to have come. Fortunately, Miller offered for us to stay the night if we wanted. I wouldn’t have had the courage to walk home in this state. I tell myself it’s my birthday, so I have the right to enjoy it! Midnight must have already passed, but it doesn’t matter. I lost track of time since my phone died. It’s been ages since I had this much fun. Laughter keeps ringing in my ears. A body presses against my back during a dance, but I don’t pay much attention. I even have fun dancing closer to her. From her build, I’d say it’s a girl. Everything was going great until I feel her hands on my hips and her voice chills me to the bone.

“I missed you…”

I snap back to reality in less than a second. I stop dancing and quickly pull away from him. I need to see to believe it. Unfortunately, it’s real.

“Feli…” I whisper.

“Ona-”

“Don’t come near me!” I scream.

“No, wait-”

She tries to grab my arm, but I flee outside. I thought she’d understand I don’t want to talk to her, but her voice calling me from behind as I head to the back of the garden tells me otherwise.

“Leave me alone!”

“Please, listen to me!” she yells back.

I sigh, realizing I’ve trapped myself against the hedges. I turn around, pointing a finger at her.

“Stop! Don’t come any closer!”

To my surprise, she stops a meter away. Just seeing her in front of me makes me incredibly uncomfortable. I never thought I’d see her here.

“Please,Ona-”

“Shut up! I’m the one talking here,” I shout. “What are you doing here?”

“A friend of your friend.”

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Feli. If I wasn’t clear when I left, I am now!”

“Ona, please, let me speak.”

I look at her for a long time, trying to judge her. I try to discern the truth in her. One thing is for sure, her sad face doesn’t help at all.

“Two minutes,” I relent.

“I’m really sorry for everything I did,” she begins, knowing I’m serious. “I wasn’t myself. You know drugs make us do things we wouldn’t want to... I know I crossed the line more than once with you, and I regret it. I never wanted to hurt you, quite the opposite... I love you, Ona. I always have, and I know I messed up. I really lost it, and that’s why I asked for help... I’m seeing a therapist,” she admits, lowering her head. “He’s helping me get better, and so far, it seems to be working. I’m not asking for your forgiveness... I know it would be too hard for you, but I’d like you to give me another chance when you feel ready... I-... I’d like to be part of your life again...”

“Let me stop you right there. Get the idea out of your head that we can be together again because that will never happen! Is that clear?!”

“OK, OK,” she replies quickly. “M-maybe not a relationship as I’d like... B-but maybe a friendship, or-or...”

I laugh bitterly. Damn, why did I have to run into her. I run my hand over my forehead and push my hair back.

“No.”

She looks at me with wide eyes. She doesn’t need to act surprised. She ruined my life.

“In your pathetic speech, you’re right about one thing, Feli. I can never forgive you for all your damn actions,” I say, enunciating each word. “I trusted you! You told me you’d give me a better life, but in reality, you’re just an asshole! You have no idea how many scars you left on me! I wonder why I’m even talking to you, damn it.”

I step closer to her, pointing my finger at her chest.

“I forbid you from approaching me again, or it will go very badly for you.”

I keep my composure as best I can. The alcohol helps me hide my anxiety in front of her. I give her one last look before leaving her without regret. I’m not going to ruin my evening because of her. Mapi doesn’t even notice my absence since she asks me to join her at the drink stand as if nothing happened. She keeps dancing and singing while pulling me along. Instead of pouring myself a drink, I grab a bottle of tequila and head to the kitchen. Mapi looks more than happy with my initiative and shouts for the guys to join us. I plan to finish my night as it started. I’ll have plenty of time to regret it tomorrow when I return to harsh reality.

[domini-porter]

Quick reminder for Americans: even if you don’t like either presidential candidate, there are so many more things to vote for on your ballot.

If you think president is too big and amorphous or too corrupt and rigged, what about the elections in your town? Everything starts small and local. Where you’re one of a much more tangible number than 300,000,000. Even in big cities things are broken down into smaller chunks where your vote counts with greater weight.

Also, you’re not obligated to cast a vote for everything on the ballot! Just the ones you feel like!

Okay.

I’m trying to be kind about this but it’s difficult. Voting isn’t difficult. People are asking you to choose between options and you choose the option that seems best. That’s it. People fight and die even now for your right to do this. To read a pamphlet (optional!) and fill out a form. That’s it.

The other thing is this: someone on that form will win. No matter what. One of those names will be in charge. Not because it’s rigged, but because those are the people you get to pick from, and one of them will win. That is how every election for anything works.

Anyway. This next part is for my purity-test leftists specifically, but who knows, maybe it applies to you too!

Who do you think you’re helping by sitting out a vote that could determine if I, personally—a real human person and maybe your friend or acquaintance or loved one—am branded a deviant and an undesirable and a criminal and imprisoned or worse? People in Gaza who are certainly drinking in your social media posts like a healing elixir and thinking wow, I’m so grateful Westerners are using my suffering to buff up their own moral purity, I’m really glad they’re refusing to participate in a free and democratic election, that’s so cool and helpful to me, personally?

The fucking gall of you. The privilege and heartlessness of you. The laziness and cruelty and selfishness of you. Just say you’re too invested in looking like a galaxy-brain iconoclast to give ten minutes of your time to help me not live every second of my life—which is happening next door or down the street or a neighborhood over from you, right now, every day—in fear and despair. Get just so absolutely fucked.

For everyone else: check your voter registration if you’re unsure or live in a state prone to purging its voter rolls! If you can vote early, vote as early as you can!

If you’ve never voted before but have decided this year’s the year, that’s so amazing and I’m so excited and it’s super-easy and honestly at least kind of fun; I guarantee your voter guide will have some amazing weirdos in it, because it’s America and everyone can try for it. But if you don’t vote—you, in your much-smaller voting pool than you might realize—those weirdos running to outlaw ducks have a distressingly better shot. And once they’re on the city council, maybe they run for mayor. And then state rep. And so on.

Please don’t be one of those people who claims their voice isn’t heard and decides to self-fulfill that prophecy by refusing to use their voice at all. It has real, lasting, immediate consequences for people you see every day. It has real, lasting consequences for you, too; consequences that really make spending ten minutes filling out a scantron seem a lot less difficult in retrospect.

Vote like your life depends on it. And if it doesn’t, you have my explicit permission to vote like mine does.

[moonshine-nightlight]

Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Part Twenty-Six

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding  that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 26

[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight] [Part Nine][Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve]  [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] Part Twenty-Six [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

You’re grateful this gala does not require a grand entrance despite it being the last of the parties at the Governor’s house and in Connton. Instead, you're on a dais to one side of the room in a sort of receiving area. Everyone who's come to Connton but will not be going to the wedding itself on the Northridge estate has come. They all want a chance to speak to the Northridges and express their well-wishes before you leave town. You've had no moment to yourself since arriving. 

It's a real test of your memory. You've met so many new people over the course of these galas and now you must see if you can match the faces to their owners. Dale is surprisingly good at doing so, thank the light. Your notes help you to remember specific details with the names, so you end up working well with each other to ensure no one thinks you’ve forgotten them.  

You fall into an easy back and forth rhythm and you can't help how satisfied your partnership makes you feel, even if you begin to grow tired with the constant social interaction. It's been over an hour without a pause in conversation you're expected to be attentive and contributing to. Dale appears ready to continue into perpetuity, but you hope when the next round of food is announced, the unofficial line of those you need to speak with will have dwindled enough that you can stop for a time. You’ve never been so eager to join the typical press and crowd of a typical gala.

Of course, after you've spoken to those who sought you out to, there will likely be a number requesting dances with yourself or Dale. You can only hope that's after the food as you've once more reached the part of the evening where your anxiety has been quelled by weariness. 

Something bumps your hand and you turn to see Dale offering you a goblet of wine, light and cool. You smile gratefully at him, murmuring your thanks and unsure why the kind gesture brings heat to your face. You sip on the drink, your throat thankful and your mind appreciating the reprieve from talking as Dale brings your current discussion away from the intricacies of divining new mineral deposits and onto the wine. You're able to hum appreciatively in all the right places and the couple moves on with a polite smile.

Dale presses close to you, leaning over to peer into your nearly empty wine glass. "Another?"

You shake your head, resisting the urge to lean into him. The evening's just begun, you remind yourself, it's too early to be tired. "I am fine for now."

"I'll be fine once it is time for the main course," Dale grumbles good-naturedly. "Grandmother ushered us up here so quickly I could snatch nothing more than a single roll."

"I think the crowd around us is thinning," you attempt to console him. Dale is nearly always hungry, or so it seems to you, but he isn't wrong. Between the meeting this afternoon to discuss the assassins, the preparations for this final gala, and then being whisked away to hosting duties as soon as you arrived, you two haven't had a meal since breakfast a little before noon. "The later crowd should not gather until after supper."

"Thank the stars for that," Dale mutters as he takes your goblets to leave them on a side table. "This day has been nothing but talks and discussions."

"I agree," you say. "I do believe the musicians Grandmother hired for the wedding arrived in town tonight and shall be playing at this gala."

"Oh? Good, good.” Dale looks cheered by the prospect of some physical activity as you’d hoped. “I know some of our guests are already filling our dance cards, but the first few I intend not to give away." 

You know he's probably only looking forward to not having to make conversation, but you like to imagine he also simply would appreciate your company. "I agree." You share a smile with him.

You look away only so as to locate the next guest and finish, itching even more for this first round of focused socializing to end. Instead you hear a familiar voice greeting Grandmother. You stiffen, but at the same time, you're grateful that this final shoe has dropped. You've spent all evening anticipating your family's arrival. At the same time, you're still surprised to see your mother speaking with Grandmother, your father at her side and your brother on the other. 

You can feel Dale turn with you, but you can't look away. Has it truly only been a couple months since you were last living with them in your home fief? It feels like so much longer. 

Your father meets your eyes first and you can see he also needs a second to take you in. He looks the same as always, the crisp lines of his naval uniform that he prefers to wear for any event is as neat as always, the buttons shined to perfection. It's you who has changed. Still, he smiles, tilting his head for you to join them.

You start toward them automatically and glance up at Dale when you sense him following. His eyes are fixed on them and from the way his bearing and attention have sharpened, you know you don't need to tell them who they are. 

"...cannot be helped, of course," your mother is saying to Grandmother.

"Of course," Grandmother says sympathetically. "We are pleased you were able to make this gala if that is what you have been dealing with."

You only hesitate when you get closer, habit telling you to stand behind your father, but you take your correct place at Grandmother's left. You’re surprised to see your oldest brother is here as well. As the inheriting lord, he had every reason to stay at home given your parents’ presence. Your mother's eyes land on you immediately, you can feel her looking you over, but it's your father who speaks first.

“You look lovely, my child." His smile is minimal, but his voice is quiet and warm. He’s where you get your desire to avoid the spotlight from. He’s more than happy to stand in your mother’s shadow at events and he was the one who often employed your ill health to excuse himself from events he couldn't get out of with other obligations when in the country. When you were feeling up for it, he would read to you. On the other hand, if you were too ill, he could never bring himself to stay long. 

“Thank you, Father.” You try to push down the return of feeling like a child play acting an adult, something you haven't felt in weeks. Your hand still can't help but smooth your skirts before you meet your mother's eyes. 

"You do," your mother confirms, her expression schooled politeness as it always is at public events. It makes it hard for even you to read her. "Even if it surprises my mother's heart to see you in your betrotheds' colors rather than our own. They suit you well."

"Thank you, Mother,” you reply, more focused on your role as a host than fully absorbing her comment, though it echoes one of your own thoughts when you first donned your Northridge dress. Since Father and Grandmother Northridge were the ones who arranged this marriage contract while Dale was away, none of your family has actually met him. You gesture to Dale. “Please allow me to introduce Lord Dale of Northridge, my fiancé.” Dale bows as you continue. “Lord Dale, allow me to introduce my parents, Lord Henry and Lady Fiore of Portsmith, and my brother Lord Asher."

Everyone murmurs pleasantries and greetings while you wait for your nerves to relax. It looks like Asher left his wife home to manage the fief, but did bring at least some of his children, who you can see behind him. You spot your older sister as well, with her husband and heir, all the way from Khinat, but they’re speaking with a few other guests nearby.

Grandmother, and Grandfather move to greet them with Asher acting as the spokesperson for your family, allowing you a moment with your parents. Your mother clasps your arms, making a bit of a show of looking you up and down, before she pulls you into a quick embrace that ends nearly as soon as it started. “I’m pleased you're doing well,” she says quietly enough only you can hear. “I’d been worried about you, away from us.”

You flush. “Mother, I’ve been away longer for school.”

“It is not the same,” she insists, but refuses to elaborate. She steps back and frowns at your dress. “While the colors are lovely, your sleeves are too short,” your mother tuts. “You must be having chills with these.” She gives one of your short sleeves a small tug. “I know they are the fashion now, but you mustn’t neglect your health. Do you have a shawl? Obviously not, or you’d have worn it. I shall have one over to you tomorrow. We’ll ensure the rest of your clothing is sent to Northridge once we return.”

You resist the urge to sigh, to say anything about her own fashionable dress. You merely wait for her to finish speaking her piece. “Thank you, Mother.”

“This gala looks lovely,” Mother continues, looking around with sharp but pleased eyes. “Most befitting such an occasion for Northridge,” she nods graciously at Dale, but continues before he can reply. “I’ve never been to Connton, but it's a charming city. We had some difficulties with the weather and some troublemakers on the river, so it is relieving to have arrived. Although I suppose we have yet to make the final ride tomorrow.”

‘Troublemakers’ likely means folks upset about a tax raise who tried to hold up the boat when they saw the family flags flying, saying those who levied said taxes were aboard. Mother had all sorts of euphemisms for various spots of danger or attacks that might occur. ‘Troublemakers’ meant no one was injured or else they would have been ‘ruffians’. As far as you know, they are not common codewords and exist primarily to keep up appearances.

Dale sees his opportunity and says, “The ride is an easy one, only a day or two depending primarily on how quickly the traffic in and out of the city is moving.”

“Very good,” Mother says. “Are there proper wayhouses betwixt your estate and this city? Given all of our travels, we are likely to leave later and I’ve no desire to ride much in a day or overnight.” Mother gets sick to her stomach if she spends too much time in a carriage, you remember. She’s likely bothered that they can’t continue to sail. 

“Yes,” Dale answers before you can. “I can provide the name of where we stay if we stop for the night. We’ll be leaving early enough tomorrow that we won’t be stopping. My understanding from speaking with other guests is that many will arrive gradually throughout the week so it should not be overcrowded.” There will be dinners each night on the estate, but no more formal galas until the wedding. You cannot wait for the lull of social activity before you must be put on a stage.

“Wonderful,” Mother says with a smile up at Dale. She glances around for her secretary who starts to make her way over once Mother makes eye contact with her. “We had meant to inquire sooner, but had never anticipated being so delayed.”

Dale dutifully relates the necessary travel information to her, without you needing to say a thing. Once she has the information not only about the wayhouse, but also regarding what wing of the estate your family will be staying, Mother bustles away with her secretary to ensure your siblings and their families receive the same details, Nevermind waiting to do so in the morning or trusting her secretary to speak with theirs. Nevermind if any of them had planned to leave earlier or stay in Connton an additional day or so.  She’ll want the family to all stay together.She leaves, but not before saying, “And I shall check to see if we’ve brought along a spare shawl for you.”

You give your father a look and he nods before following her, so there’s hope she won’t actually return with one to give you. You stay where you are, needing a moment to recollect yourself after seeing them again.

Dale’s quiet voice, leaned close for just you to hear, interrupts your thoughts, “It is not cold and her sleeves…” You wave off his logical points about the fact that it is nearly halfway through Hectary and Mother’s own sleeves were short before he can make them. “Do not try to make sense of it. I’m receiving a shawl now and there would have been no persuading her otherwise.”

“As you say.” Dale sounds confused and skeptical, but he doesn’t argue with you. It is too much to try to explain that Mother often thought your fits were motivated by cold since they at times resembled shivers. She often tried to dress you far more warmly than the occasion called for and had only mildly backed off after you had heat exhaustion once while home on holiday a couple years ago. 

A tug on your hand draws your attention to your niece, who you’re guessing is allowed to attend this gala for a couple hours and only on her best behavior. Naturally, she’s snuck away from Asher’s side already. Ten year old Rose had followed you around the family house when you returned from schooling a year ago, suddenly fascinated by you. She’d actually been upset when you left for Northridge and refused to say goodbye.

Instead of greeting you or introducing herself, she narrows her eyes, looking suspiciously from you to Dale. "This is who you are marrying?"

"Hello to you as well, Rose,” you say, but she just crosses her arms with a huff. Deciding that it is not your job to teach her manners—especially not when you feel she is only choosing to ignore them, not ignorant of them—you simply answer her question. “Yes, this is Lord Dale.” Turning to Dale, you explain, “Rose is my niece, Asher’s youngest."

"Pleased to meet you Lady Rose," Dale says with a short bow.

Rose blinks before executing a perfunctory curtsy, though it does nothing to diminish her frown. "You're not what I expected," she says bluntly. 

"Rose," you admonish. This is pushing it, even for a child at one of her first events such as this. You have seen her deal politely with guests at the house before and have no idea what could be compelling her to be so rude. Not to mention you've not seen Dale interact with any children and have no idea how he will take her attitude. After all, he didn't grow up with siblings underfoot nor their children. 

"In what way?" Dale asks instead, only sounding curious.

Rose hums, tapping her chin in an exaggerated mimic of Asher that you feel some of your frustration melting. If Dale's not put off, and your Mother is out of earshot, then you don’t mind indulging her to an extent. It’s curious to see her almost suspicious on your behalf. Whether or not you usher her back to her father’s side will depend on her answer to Dale’s question. "You're too tall," she proclaims as if that contained all her criticism distilled to one comment.

You blink in surprise, but Dale laughs. "My apologies, but I've no way to change that."

"I suppose," Rose replies grudgingly. She bites her lip, looking between you two, a question clearly on her mind. "Can I visit? Even after you're married?"

"Of course," you say with a frown. While you’d not been allowed to travel out of your home fief when you were young, most noble children often visited cousins and extended family members before formal schooling at an institution. "Why wouldn't you be able to?"

Rose shrugs. "Father said that things change after a person marries. That you might be too busy."

"I would never be too busy for you.”

"He said, it would be his," she points at Dale, "house and so he might not want me to."

You suppose you could see your brother's point. He likely said that more out of an abundance of caution and knowing couples prefer some time to themselves to settle in. Perhaps he was even trying to give you an excuse ahead of time if you’d didn’t want a nosy niece underfoot. However, you do not like the implication you would need Dale's permission for your family to visit. You open your mouth to say so, but you're not the one who answers her.

"Nonsense," Dale says, clearly confused. "With our marriage, it will be our house. Any family of my spouse would my family as well. You are welcome to visit as you please, though I'd caution you to send word ahead of time. We'll be touring the fief in our first year."

"Truly?" Rose asks before grinning, not waiting for confirmation. "Thank you!"

"You also need your parent's permission," you add, knowing exactly how her mind works. Predictably, she pouts. "But we would love to have you. Tell me what you have been up to since we last spoke. You never answered my last letter."

"I'm sorry," Rose says dutifully, but she isn’t truly bothered. "I always forget. It's half finished. Everything was boring until Aunt Callalily came. Come on, you have to meet Sara and Kanti.”

“I’ve already met them,” you point out, but take her hand anyway. “So have you.”

“But they were just babies then,” Rose says dismissively as she pulls you over. “Now they’re almost real people.” Dale laughs and Rose grins, always pleased to entertain an adult. Your heart warms at Dale’s indulgence of her, grateful you do not have the original Dale who likely would have dismissed her outright.

You follow her over to your siblings and find that your other sister and her husband are here as well. Introductions fly around as you all fulfill etiquette’s demands. Your nieces and nephews end up sneaking away before you can see how much any of them have grown. Dale ends up talking to your father and brother, but you are able to talk with your sisters. 

“Douglas is coming?” you ask, unable to keep your surprise to yourself when you learn from them that your remaining brother is going to be at the wedding too. All four of your siblings will come, you’d never thought… “I thought he was stationed on the northern border for the rest of the year. Fort Rhimer.”

“He is,” your oldest sister, Callalily, confirms. “However, knights are allowed leave,” she says, as if your surprise is what’s odd. “A family wedding is more than an acceptable reason to take such. We are not at war. He is more than capable of leaving his command for a fortnight or two.”

“Of course, I simply did not think…” You just didn’t think he’d bother to come. Douglas is the sibling you saw and knew the least, with him having been off in the capital for training or on active military duty for most of your life. Perhaps he wants to take leave for other reasons and saw this as a convenient opportunity. Or maybe he wants to see the rest of the family. “Well, I’ll be happy to see him.”

“Yes, it's been too long,” Marigold, the sister closest in age to you, but who is closer still to Douglas. She’s nearly a decade older than you are. “Douglas is too focused on his career and would do well to take more time to enjoy the rest of what life has to offer. And to see us, of course. He neglects his family.” 

“Hush,” Callalily rolls her eyes and makes a show of looking around. “Don’t let Mother hear you or you’ll be treated to another lecture on the importance of a noble’s getting married, even though we are already married.” 

Your mother is still off somewhere else, but everyone’s making their way down from the dais to join the gala proper. You’re still a little nervous with your family around, that you’re not sure how much you’ll actually end up eating, but you’d like to get away from even this minor stage. Callalily must agree as she leads the two of you over to one of the buffet tables. “No doubt she shall be searching this gala for eligible matches the entire night, especially since he is the only one of her children left who is not even betrothed.” 

Marigold laughs. You used to be envious of how effortless she makes everything look. If you tried to wear that bright red scarf with its foreign patterns, even if it matched your dress like hers does, you’d only look out of place and awkward. She has the ability to keep abreast with current trends and styles and play them to her advantage. She has an eye for fashion even if, as a sculptor, she primarily uses no color in her work.

Even Callalily who should look out of place in her Khinat dress manages to only look elegant and interesting as a diplomat should. Your plainer clothes, especially growing up as you only had a few nice dresses given your shyness and often inability to attend more important events, had always left you feeling more than a step behind your worldly older sisters. “Oh, I wonder if he’s realized that now, given the wedding we’re attending.” Marigold leans over and gives you a hug around the shoulders. “Our youngest, all grown up. He’s going to regret coming, isn’t he?”

You’ve often felt cut off from your siblings, being so much younger than them. Now, this gala is for you, for your wedding that you’re helping to host in your lovely Northridge dress. It's fun to be included in the joke with your sisters. To feel like you’re within reach of the same plateau of ‘proper adult’ as they are. “Perhaps.” You smile back at her. “Maybe Mother will succeed in her matchmaking.”

Marigold stifles a snort. “Oh, yes, and then perhaps he will fly back to the fort on the wings of such a mystical love.”

Callalily swats gently at Marigold’s arm, but she’s smiling. “We didn’t think he’d holdout long enough to be the last one, did we?” She looks over the hors d'oeuvres laid out as she decides what to eat. You find you’re not ready to have anything after all. “Who knows what will happen?” 

She turns to you and you’re surprised to have her attention at such an event. Callalily always tries to have at least one longer conversation with you when she visits, but she doesn’t often seek out your opinion in a group, or even at dinner. “How are you faring?” Her eyebrows tilt down in sympathy, a common look she’s given you—one that always makes you feel like a child, though you know she means nothing by it. “I hope these preparations have not been too much for you. Or did the Northridges’ take care of everything?” She doesn’t give you a chance to answer, before she looks at Marigold with a smirk. “I must admit, it would be novel to think of a wedding for one of us that Mother did not try to manage all of.”

You know she sees you as someone still ill, someone who tires easily and is overwhelmed easily, but you thought she could see you’ve moved past that. She’s the one who encouraged you to pick your own school, your own courses of study. Did she think you were still so moldable to even the family you were marrying? Or did she think the Northridges were overbearing? You’d not thought she had any particular thoughts or opinions on them.

“Your fault for getting married first,” Marigold says to Callalily. “My fault for getting married to someone without their own mother to fight her off. And Asher’s fault for being the heir. Only you have been so lucky.” She winks at you. You wonder if that’s truly the reason because you remember the arguments and control Mother had sought to exercise over your other siblings' weddings. It was why you’d been almost expecting her to come with you to Northridge, even though it was uncommon for a parent of a betrothed to come with them to stay with the family they are marrying into. Mother hadn’t pushed to be involved, besides ensuring you had all you needed, shawls aside. 

You think she’s more committed to acting as though everything is typical, to show too much of her traditional concern over your health. She’d been extremely concerned regarding your health reports and how they might taint a prospective marriage. You hope she’ll continue to act as if she isn’t worried about your health or a relapse, but you don’t know how you feel about it once more resulting in treatment other than what your siblings received. Even if you don’t want her to interfere with the wedding.

“That luck is likely to be running out,” Callalily cautions. “Now that she’s arrived.”

“Everything’s already settled,” you protest, hoping you weren’t wrong about her overstepping to manage what you and the Northridges have well in hand. 

“Not sure that will stop Mother if she sees something she feels is missing,” Marigold teases. “You know how she is when she sees a problem she feels she knows how to solve.”

She’s not wrong and you anxiously peer around to see if Mother’s returned. Callalily’s hand on your arm brings your focus back to her. “We shall keep her busy as best as we are able,” Callalily reassures you. “I’m certain you’ve enough to worry about without Mother’s particular style of assistance. She truly hasn’t said anything about the wedding preparations. I believe she is merely delighted to see you wed. I’m not sure she’d thought…” Callalily trails off but you hear the words regardless. Thought to see you marry at all. All your family had thought you’d not live past thirteen, the age at which your aunt had died. “Well, the wedding itself is not her worry. Discussing your health, in private, is likely on the table.”

Mother was the one who managed your doctors and treatments while you grew up. She would go through different phases of how involved she was and what she left to the individual doctors, but she always pushed for new techniques and options to be tested. She’ll likely have some new compound she wants you to take to ensure your condition doesn’t resurge or simply to enhance overall health. “Of course,” you acknowledge ruefully. “I only hope I do not have to talk her out of substances that are actually poisonous once more.” Half of what you’re learned about medicine was defensive, not mere curiosity on your part, due to Mother’s willingness to experiment.

“To her credit,” Marigold says with a grin, obviously remembering the incident a few years ago since she had been visiting them at the time. “I knew a number of people who were using belladonna as well. They were all very convinced of the therapeutic benefits if one did not use too much.” 

“Your people—artists—are always so ready to believe beauty is pain,” Callalily says with a smirk before helping herself to a stuffed mushroom. 

“Oh yes, only us artists could be so vain.” Marigold rolls her eyes. “And how long did it take your maid to do your hair up in this manner?”

You eye the beautiful and elaborate braids Callalily has her hair in, she even has a few strands of jewelry in that make her chestnut hair look particularly lustrous. It must have taken hours. “The usual amount,” Callalily says with a sniff.

“Of course,” Marigold replies. She never takes anything too seriously nor does she hold Callalily’s, or anyone’s, teases or criticisms against her. “I did want to compliment the work. It truly is lovely.”

“Thank you.” Callalily smiles and then reaches out to touch one of your curls. “Yours are sweet, I hope you do not follow Marigold’s example.” You feel younger in your basic hairstyle, but at least you know you won’t need to respond.

“My hair is fine,” Marigold says quickly enough. “Covered, as propriety dictates.”

“It’s still down,” Callalily tuts.

“And no one has fainted from the sight, since it is covered,” Marigold reiterates. “I have to have my hair pinned up so precisely and tightly to my head when I work that I cannot abide having it done so when it can be helped.”

“Why not cover it while you work?” 

“It does not work as well,” Marigold insists around a piece of bread and some cheese, a hand to cover her mouth while she rebuts Callalily. “All my scarves get covered in clay and I overheat.”

“It’s hot enough in this ballroom.” Callalily reaches for a fresh glass to drink, passing one to Marigold and to you. 

Your pleasure at the lack of hesitation in her inclusion of you is overshadowed by the reminder of your mother’s intentions. “Mother hasn’t returned with a shawl for me, has she?”

“No…” Marigold frowns, looking baffled. “Why would she? It’s a week into Hectary with nary a sea breeze to cool us.”

“You know how she feels about our sibling and chills,” Callalily reminds Marigold before looking back at you. “No, I believe she’s returned and is speaking with the Governor. If she had found a shawl to foist upon you, she would have done so before joining that conversation.”

“Thank the light,” you mutter and take a sip of the wine she’d handed you.

“You poor thing,” Marigold coos. “She’d have stifled you. I’ve no notion how you put up with her fussing.”

“Yes, truly. I managed to have her stop by the time I left for schooling.” Callalily doesn’t mean to sound scolding but you can’t help feeling like she is. “You should assert yourself more clearly with her.”

Callalily’s never understood how differently Mother treats you than she does your other siblings. She doesn’t see that you could behave identically to how Callalily did when she was your age and not be permitted the same leeway. “She does not listen.”

“You must make her,” Callalily says, as if it is that easy. As if you have not tried. “She’ll never see you as grown if you do not.” You know that too, but you can’t seem to get through to Mother. You’re not sure you ever will be able to. And you’re tired of attempting so.

“Well, it will cease to be much of a problem going forward, will it not?” Marigold asks. “Fussing during Solstices is easy enough to manage.”

You miss what Callalily says in reply because your eyes catch sight of an unnatural shadow. A long tail cuts across the ballroom floor and you follow it back to where Dale stands with Grandfather and your brother. You reverse, looking to see where it leads and spot the end on the buffet. It’s reared up onto the table and you swear there is a mouth on the end of it, trying to steal some cheese. 

Your heart pounds at this blatant display. Someone’s going to notice sooner rather than later. How can you get Dale to be more subtle? He’s going to worry you to an early grave, illness be damned.

You need a reason to squash it or cover it up. Your eyes land on a familiar figure at a nearby table and you blurt out without thinking, “Lady Breighton!” She somehow hears you over the noisy crowd and looks over at you. In too deep, you link your arm with Marigold’s. Your sisters look startled and confused by your outburst, but you simply smile at them. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you to Dale’s aunt. She’s an avid admirer of sculpture, Marigold, and I’m certain she would enjoy conversing with you.”

“Oh, of course, ” Marigold still seems surprised that you’re the one trying to bring more people into a conversation, but she can’t resist talking about her art. She grins. “I’d be happy to.”

You head over to Breighton, keeping Marigold on one side and the buffet on the other side. Callalily slides her arm into Marigold’s other arm, which helpfully puts both of them further from the more obvious end of Dale’s most recent slip up. You can see that everyone seems to step over the shadow without thought, as if they instinctively know they shouldn’t touch it.

You deliberately step on the shadow tendril while simultaneously disposing of your napkin directly on top of the little mouth at the end. The texture of the shadow under your foot is somewhere between what you imagine a snake would feel like and pudding. It is profoundly unsettling. You're grateful you haven’t had anything to eat after all. You don’t look at Dale, but you’re relieved you don’t hear any sort of sound to signify what you did hurt him over much.

You concentrate so much on not looking at Dale that you introduce your sisters to Breighton without much thought, relying on the etiquette lessons drilled into you to get through it. Breighton does appear to pay greater attention when you mention Marigold’s passion, so you’re glad you didn’t guess wrong about her interest.

Only once the conversation has started, do you dare chance a look back over to Dale. He’s standing just where he had been, but there’s no longer a shadow connected to the buffet. He looks perfectly ordinary once more and you breathe a sigh of relief. Taking a grateful drink of the water glass Breighton has handed you, you can’t help but hope this gala is done sooner rather than later.

[Part Twenty-Seven]

[https-hunter]

I am lucky enough that Cinemark approached my college’s animation department with the offer to attend an advanced screening of the first 35 minutes of Inside Out 2.

I loved it.

The original Inside Out came out when I was eleven and I’ve adored it since, so this was a really cool opportunity as a longtime fan and current animator.

So here’s a description of what goes on in the first half hour & some of my thoughts.

Massive spoilers for Inside Out 2 below the cut!!

The movie starts out with Riley’s hockey game. Each one of the five main emotions takes a turn at the wheel during the game. Joy get Riley excited, Anger gives her the aggression she needs on the ice, Fear reminds her to put her mouth guard in, Disgust makes it realize that it’s not hers, and Sadness takes over when Riley is given a penalty.

During her time in the penalty box, the emotions reflect on what Riley has been up to lately. She turned 13, got braces, started growing, and has two best friends she plays hockey with, Grace and Bree. We see the personality islands and it’s noted that Friendship Island is majorly overshadowing Family Island. We’re also introduced to Riley’s sense of self, which is made up of affirmations she has for herself after different memories are added to it (i.e.: “I’m a good friend” “I’m a good person, etc.). It is comprised of different strings that say the affirmation when they are strung. Joy also reveals a machine she has that sends memories to the back of the head, which I guess is like repressed memories.

When she gets out of the penalty box, Riley, Grace, and Bree score a winning goal and are approached by the local high school’s hockey coach. She invites the three of them to hockey camp that weekend, to which they all immediately accept.

The night before camp, the emotions are all in bed. I need to add that Joy & Sadness share a bunk, Anger is by himself as he punches the air, and Disgust & Fear bunk together. Sadness & Joy hear an odd sound and they find the puberty button going off, no matter what they do to stop it. A construction crew comes in & basically makes a mess of headquarters.

The next day, Riley wakes up and she isn’t ready for hockey camp. When her mom asks why she isn’t packed, Anger responds, but Riley overreacts even though he barely touched the console. Sadness and Disgust try it, but Riley’s just having mood swings now and they find the console to be way more sensitive than it used to be. They decide to leave it alone unless they absolutely have to use it.

Cut to the car ride to hockey camp. Riley is telling Grace & Bree how excited she is to play hockey together in high school. Disgust instantly flags a look Bree gave her and Bree’s own Disgust flags Riley’s look back. Grace blurts out that she and Bree are going to different high schools and Riley tries to hold it together until she’s out of the car. The emotions literally have to hold Sadness back 😭

This is where the new emotions show up. We meet Anxiety (I tried to stay normal over hearing Maya Hawke), Envy (she’s voiced by Ayo Edebiri !!), Embarrassment, and Ennui (Joy nicknames him “wee-wee”). We also later meet Nostalgia, a sweet old lady emotion, but Anxiety tells her she’s ten years too early. Anxiety explains her role in things and there’s a joke about how Fear thinks he’s going to get along really well with her. The new emotions all take the wheel, especially when Riley is trying to introduce herself to Val, a cool hockey player at the high school she’ll be attending. Anxiety, out of fear for Riley’s social future, has Riley follow Val and she meets some other hockey players. They all think she’s from Michigan and not Minnesota, but she just rolls with it.

When the girls are all ready for practice in the locker room, Riley & her friends act really immature while the coach is trying to talk. Joy tries to make things better, but Riley laughs at a joke one of her friends made at the wrong time. Coach makes everyone skate lines (I think?) as punishment.

Riley overhears some of the high school players talking about her and how immature she is. When Val is alone, Anxiety makes a plan and Riley approaches her and apologizes for getting everyone punished. Val tells her that it’s okay and that the coach being hard on her means that she’s under her radar, and that it’s a good thing.

Val tells her that they might be on the same team when they split into groups. This causes a divide between Joy and Anxiety. Joy thinks that Riley should stay with her current friends, while Anxiety thinks she should stick with Val. Riley does end up choosing Val’s team and we get a confused look from Grace and Bree.

In Riley’s head, Anxiety carries out phase two of her plan. She tells the older emotions that they’re not needed anymore and literally bottles them up. They’re sent to the Vault, which is a, well, vault that holds Riley’s deepest secrets.

In here we meet Bloofy, a Dora the Explorer/Mickey Mouse Clubhouse-style cartoon character whose secret is that Riley still enjoys the show. We also meet Lance, a video game character Riley has a crush on, whose only defense move is rolling into a ball and moving forward. There’s also Riley’s deepest secret, but he doesn’t really talk. I just have to nerd out over the different animation styles here. Lance, while being 3D, is so pixelated and made to look like an anime-style video game character. Bloofy is fully 2D animated. You had all these animation students in the audience LOVING this scene.

Riley’s deepest secret breaks the jar the emotions are bottled up in. Bloofy uses what is clearly supposed to be the Mystery Mousekatool from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and they’re given three tool options: a tomato, something else I don’t remember, and dynamite. They use the dynamite and blow the door open. I need you guys to know that Lance cannot leave at first because he keeps walking into the wall. And then he just Riley’s secret decides to stay. The cops/guards in Riley’s mind catch them at first, but for reasons that I can’t really remember, they all end up incapacitated (handcuffs on their feet, slipped on coffee, etc.).

The emotions begin their journey to get back to headquarters and take Riley back from Anxiety’s plan.

I think the new emotions will be really good for Riley. I was not expecting Anxiety to become an antagonist, though! I love the new ways they’ve explained different parts of the mind, like the sense of self and repressed memories. The visuals are, of course, gorgeous and the story captures the sheer horror that is being 13.

I really love it so far. I’m beyond thrilled that I had this opportunity, and now I have an Inside Out 2 tote bag. I can’t wait to see the rest of it in June.

[severelystrangewriter]

Birthday (Flufftober 2023 Day 5)

Pairing: hakkai shiba x female reader

WC: 579

Warnings: none

Summary: no one showed up to your birthday party except one other person

Note: hakkai is so precious i wanted to write something for him <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Birthdays were dumb.

Why?

Because right now you were sitting at a picnic table by yourself celebrating yours on your own. Not a single person you invited had showed up to your party; all the ones that had told you yes had texted you various reasons as to why they couldn’t come as you were getting set up at the park: something unexpected popped up, or they fell ill, or they were just too busy.

You had believed them, that is, until you were scrolling through social media when you stumbled across the popular kid’s profile and they had posted a photo of them celebrating their birthday with all the people that couldn’t come to yours. That solidified your thoughts on birthdays being the dumbest thing in the world.

Your eyes filled with tears and you dropped your head on the table. There was a lot of pizza and cupcakes but you couldn’t bring yourself to eat. It was a blow to your ego, that much was for sure, and you felt like the lamest person in the world as you sat there, your sniffles and the sounds of nature being the only thing to break the silence.

“I don’t think you're supposed to cry on your birthday,” A guy’s voice startled you from your pity party.

Looking up, you saw a tall teenager you recognized from your class as Hakkai Shiba. He was a shy boy that didn’t talk much to you, but you had still invited him to your party because he was nice and you didn’t want him to feel left out. He hadn’t given you a definitive answer on whether he would come, but here he was with a small present in hand. You were surprised, to say the least.

Hakkai then looked around and asked in a curious tone, “Am I early?”

At this, you wiped your eyes and shook your head, “It’s just us. Everyone else went to a different party.”

“Oh,” Was all he said before adding with a light shrug, “Well I’m here.”

You cracked a small smile, saying quietly, “I’m glad you could come. It means a lot.”

Hakkai took a seat next to you with a smile of his own as he held out the small box. He looked sheepish as he explained, “It’s not much, but I got you this.”

You took it from him and gingerly removed the wrapping. It was a jewelry box and when you opened it, your mouth dropped open in shock. Inside was a bracelet made of colorful glass beads and dangling from it was a little butterfly charm.

“Oh wow,” You looked at it in awe, lifting it up from the box to get a closer look. Then you slipped the bracelet around your wrist, your smile growing as it fit perfectly. “I love it.”

Hakkai released a small breath of relief, “I didn’t know what you liked, but I saw it and thought of you.”

Your happiness overtook you and you gave him a quick hug as you thanked him. When you pulled away, his cheeks were dusted a light pink, clearly flustered by your actions.

“Sorry, I just got excited,” You apologized quickly, feeling a little embarrassed yourself.

He looked away and cleared his throat, “It’s fine. I’m just glad you like it.”

It fell silent for a moment and your gaze landed on the pizza and cupcakes, realizing that it was way too much for just the two of you. Tilting your head, you looked over at Hakkai and asked, “You wouldn’t happen to know anyone who would want some free food would you?”

Hakkai looked at the food, humming in thought, “I could text my sister and Taka-chan if you want.”

Grinning brightly, you nodded your head, “The more the merrier.”

And so Hakkai sent a message to his older sister, Yuzuha. She answered right away saying that she’d be there in about ten minutes. While you waited, you and Hakkai spent the time getting to know each other better. When Yuzuha showed up, she brought with her another boy that went by Mitsuya, or Taka-chan as Hakkai had called him.

Being with the three of them was a lot of fun and you couldn’t remember the last time you laughed so much. Hakkai really saved the day and for that, you were grateful. You even exchanged numbers with him so you could start making plans to hang out again. By the time it was over, you felt like it had been the best birthday you ever had.

[overdressedcarp]

Aventurine, Dr. Ratio, and Ruan Mei for the character ask! (Love ur Aventio fic btw).

Thank you for the ask! I had fun doing these. (Also I'm glad you're enjoying the fic! I am sitting in my authorial hobbit hole with a big smile on my face.)

Aventurine

Clarifications (yellow boxes):

I don't see as many bad Aventurine takes as I do for Ratio, but I do think his rough edges often get watered down in a way that either justifies or ignores his canonical flaws. So "they got done dirty by fans" and "wow! they are a horrible person" both get soft nods because I think his character deserves to be both sympathetic and kind of an ass sometimes. (The other issue I see is people acting like he's vulnerable and helpless, which is just. fundamentally not true? He's not as secure in himself as he pretends to be, but he is a ruthlessly competent strategist, and he knows how to read people and give them what they want to see. He's a member of the Ten Stonehearts for a reason.)

"If they were real I would be afraid of them" alright let me explain. The 2.1 story did a masterful job of humanizing Aventurine, but his first impressions in 2.0 were fine-tuned to be unnerving, and it was really effective for me as a player. For a while I couldn't articulate why it made me uncomfortable, but @starcurtain did a great analysis on female influence in Aventurine's life, which touched on how his early interactions with the Trailblazer are designed to be intimidating and off-putting in a way that channels the sort of masculine dominance Aventurine has historically experienced at the hands of other men. Suffice to say: if it served his plans for me to be afraid of him, he knows how to do it, and it would work.

Also I forgot to mark "why do they look like that" on the bingo but I do think Hoyo should have given him more melanin considering how deeply Romani-coded his culture is. Everything else about his design slaps though.

Ratio

Clarifications:

"Wasted potential" is subjective because I've loved every moment we've gotten of Ratio onscreen, but damn do I want the game to delve deeper into his backstory and his dynamics with other characters (I'm still sad that so far Aventurine is the only character that has a voice line about him).

"Deeper than they seem" and "not as deep as they seem" exist in a paradoxical state for me because I do think some folks stop at the surface reading of "arrogant asshole" when he's got way more going on in his character stories and his actions in canon... but I also think some people err on the side of taking him too seriously, in a way that likewise takes something away from his character. Like, this is the guy who plays chess with himself and trash-talks from both sides of the table like a goddamn cartoon character. He owns at least one rubber duck and takes a bath with it every day. He likes all of Aventurine's social media posts and replies "Heh." to anything he finds vaguely amusing. This is not a serious man.

"Why do they look like that" okay I need to clarify that this is not a criticism. I love Ratio's design. The neoclassical vibes are impeccable. But it's also extra in a way that I feel morally obligated to call out, considering how much he rags on Aventurine for dressing like a peacock. Sir, you walk around in robes and sandals with an alabaster bust on your head; you have no room to talk about subtle fashion choices.

Ruan Mei

Clarifications:

Ruan Mei gets both "they are so cool looking" and "why do they look like that" because I love the theory behind her design (the DNA elements, the embroidery and floral imagery, the qipao paired with the pearl necklace) but she also has the unfortunate distinction of being a female character in a Hoyoverse game, so the more unique details fall prey to the homogenizing force of the male gaze.

Another case of "they got done dirty by fans" and "wow! they are a terrible person" existing in tandem, but in Ruan Mei's case I think some people reduce her down to her worst qualities without acknowledging the more complex aspects of her character. Her unchecked pursuit of knowledge leads to her doing Objectively Bad Things, but I don't think it's a fair (or particularly interesting) reading to portray her as heartless.

I thought about marking "wasted potential" because imo 1.6 wasn't nearly enough to delve into Everything Going on with This Woman, but it seems like they're setting up something for a future patch, so I'm content to wait and see what the writers have planned. I'm really excited to find out what she's doing with those leviathan fossils and Tingyun's wrecked ship.

Link to the character bingo template

[seven-meds]

A few interesting Letters to the Editor published in various adult magazines between the 50s and the 90s. Transcripts and sources below:

1: Future Sex (Issue 6, March 1994)

I love your magazine. The articles are well-written, and it's refreshing to see adjectives other than the words "throbbing" and "turgid" being used. Bless you and your thesaurus as well.

I particularly enjoyed Kim Teevan's essay, "Self-Service" (Issue 4), but some of the terminology was used improperly. One woman commented on the power of her 12volt vibrator being powerful enough to bore her with men. Well, that may or may not be true, but it's not voltage that determines the output power of vibrators. (I am an electrician by trade so I'm quite familiar with how vibrators work.)

The "vibes" or "pulses" that come from a vibrator are dependent on its rate of electrical cycles, expressed in hertz. A really good vibrator will have a "rate of fire" of about 60-180 pulses per minute. That translates to about

1-3 hertz. Other good rates lie in the 3003,000 pulses per second range. If this sounds a little fast, don't worry about it. Three hundred to 3,000 hertz is the average frequency of the human speaking voice. It's a nifty little vibration but it doesn't carry as far as the electrically generated vibrations due to limitations in the body's ability to maintain a sustained tone.

If I can make a personal recommendation to heavy vibrator users, you can get about a 40% increase in output power on your vibrators by bypassing the resistors that send power into the vibrator itself. Just solder a little wire around them and you'll soon be able to come so hard you'll shatter windows all up and down your block.

Charles Harris San Francisco , CA

--

2: Night and Day (November 1952)

Dear Sir:

It's wonderful to pick up your magazine a letter from a fellow uniped such as Beth O. I, too, think it is about time we were being heard from. 1 am 27 years old, blonde and not bad looking at all. I lost my left leg at mid thigh in an automobile wreck. Also I have never been able to wear an artificial limb. I use one special crutch, and my boy friend says I get about as well as a girl with two legs. I wear a 6B shoe and would like to swap with any girl that wears that size. Maybe Beth O. wears that size.

I have been walking on crutches for over ten years, I play tennis, dance and bowl. Can anyone top that? I don't believe there is a one-legged girl in the world that can get about better on crutchés than me. I challenge all comers. It is quite a nuisance being one-minus, but as Beth said, it has its compensations. I haven’t bought any hose in years as my friends give me all their odd stockings. I am waiting with bated breath for your picture spread of us one-legged girls — might even send in one of mine if I can find a good one.

E.C. CONCORD, N. C.

--

3: Eqqus Eroticus (Spring 1997)

Dear Sir,

I’m a middle aged white male living in the Cleveland, Ohio area. I took an early retirement from the Federal Government over a year ago. But I stay in good physical condition by doing my exercises such as walking, bike riding and playing golf. So I can keep up with if not ahead of just about everyone my age and usually guys who are years younger.

I want to be a cart pony and I could be a cart pony, if only I knew of someone who could train me.

I have almost always been in control. I usually am in charge of what¬ ever I am involved in. At work, I was always the boss. Usually when I joined any club and social activities at some point I became the leader. That may sound great, but it is not easy being the one who has to make the decisions, to be the person people wait to hear from, to always be the responsible one.

Through it all or maybe because of it all, I have always had a suppressed interest in bondage. To “be” in bondage, that is. To be tied strapped, shackled or whatever into complete submission. But there was no one who could or would control me, and I still yearn for bondage. I want to know at the deepest level what it is like to be controlled, forced to respond to any whim of the person who controls me.

In my spare time I found a newsgroup that had all kinds of photos of people in bondage. What attracted my interest most was the pony girls, especially the cart ponies. They were totally controlled, physically and mentally. They weren’t just in bondage; they weren’t held in one position. They were forced to behave and obey just as their masters or trainers instructed them. They were in body harnesses, stiff high collars, with a bit in their mouths, and harnesses holding their heads just right. You might see them in a corral, practicing their gait. They might be shown in a stall, chained to a wall by their neck or ankle or pulling a cart with the whip ready to give them extra incentive to obey. They were always total slaves with no will or choice.

I want to be the one who is being trained as cart pony boy. Held by my reins in a stable or my bit secured above me, holding me straight as my trainer works on my gait. To know that the littlest mistake would be rewarded with a crack or two of the whip. A whip crack I have yet to feel. Taught patience by being left chained naked in my stall, to wait for whatever would come next. I even long to be the one locked to the cart, my head held high by collar and head harness, reins telling me where to go, proudly pulling my trainer. To know that when the trip was done I‘d be back secured in my stall, left alone to await my trainer’s next pleasure.

I’m not interested in appearing in public, or being in competition. I just want to experience what it is to live the training of a cart pony. Maybe out there somewhere is a trainer who would give me what I am looking for. I want this experience so much and I would be forever grateful. I’d prefer female, but since sex isn’t the object, a male would be acceptable. If there is anyone who would train me, they can reach me at my e-mail address shown below. Please help me fulfill my desires.

PonySlaveX@aol. com

--

4: Eroticon (Fall 1980)

Dear friends of Eroticon,

I read porno magazines secretly, because my husband would not like having such “dirty” things in the house. Couldn’t you show more close ups of the male models muscular buttocks? I also would like to see cocks being soft and nice before the erection. I would really love that!

Finally! A lady with desire. We shall try to get some of the models to overcome their vanity and show “him” in a relaxed state. I definitely agree with you — not only womens asses are tempting.

--

5: Divinity 7 (1994)

I am enclosing a cutting from the DAILY TELEGRAPH of the 8th September. This indicated the flogging of a bishop.

There are no details and I would be very interested to know more about it, there is no doubt that it was a severe thrashing, but the culprit did not need to have hospital treatment afterwards, and he was fit to sit and walk next day, therefore no real injury.

I think that many of us would like to have details, such as how was he dressed for the flogging, did he have pants and shirt on? Was he standing or laying down?

It would also be interesting to know the conditions for flogging in other countries like Pakistan, Arabia and Turkey, with descriptions of the faults for which one can be flogged.

A photo or two would be interesting or better still a video of an actual flogging in public or in private.

This being an item siutable [sic] for the DAILY TELEGRAPH, and the true record of a news event I would think that a video or photos would be quite OK and legal imports, am I right?

As you are In touch and a publisher, I would like to hear from you on this subject, you may already have information or know of videos available.

Douglas Finlayson Essex

--

6: Transformation (Issue 6, 1994)

Dear TRANSFORMATION,

| recently picked up your Magazine #2...it’s great! | like what I’ve read in your magazine, especially a story titled “Dominant Lady Turns Boyfriend into Crystal” on page 10. | have this fantasy...about a dominant lady dentist who has a thing about a trampy TV, and fetish PVC or latex clothing.

Sometimes | am the patient, all dressed in shiny PVC. Other times I’m the nurse, in a white PVC uniform, long blond hair and a shiny nurse’s cap. The dental equipment is an old belt-driven drill and a sit-up chair.

If possible, I'd like to get in touch with Karyn R. and Crystal. But anyone...please write me!

K. Johnson

--

7: High Heels (Vol. 2 No. 7, 1965)

Dear High Heels.

I would like to see more pictures of handicapped girls in high-heels... I am enclosing some of mine, showing my 6" heel—some also show my peg. I have other pictures showing me in 7" heels...

Thank You,

U.N.A.

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the heart | Chapter 17

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

The story is set in early 20th century. I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Thank you notes: For this chapter I want to thank @featheredclover as she asked me to write about their London life, I got a chance to delve into their psyche and got to write about their fears and insecurities. And also like to thank my husband as I annoyed the living shit out of him by asking how did he think Arnav would react to certain questions.😂😂 and last but not the least @phuljari who inspired me to write in the first place.❤️

Chapter 17

“I’m hungry. Let’s go out to eat tonight,” Khushi suggested, as she and Arnav lounged on the sofa, both worn out from their earlier activities.

"But we need to shower first. Let's save some water, Mrs. Raizada."

Before Khushi could react, he swept her off her feet. She yelped in surprise, as his strong arms carried her towards their bathroom.

After a while, they found themselves sitting across from each other in a nearby Indian restaurant. Arnav looked at her amusedly as she ordered to her heart's content.

"Kadai paneer, tarke wale daal, sarso ka saag, rasun aur dhaniye ki chutney umm....haan jeere wale chawal, naan aur haan makhan wala naan." Then she looked at Arnav expectantly. "Don't tell me you will only have water," she teased, causing him to break into a grin.

"Order for me too."

"Ek plain naan aur daal makhni, tarke mein mirchi kam dalke, thik hain?"

Arnav took Khushi's hand across the table as the waiter went away to prepare their meal. He played with her fingers absentmindedly.

"What exactly did Lavanya tell you?" His voice was calm but curious.

"I met her at the market the other day," Khushi began, noticing the way his eyes narrowed at her words.

"In this part of the city?"

"Yes. She mentioned they have a farmhouse nearby where... you and she spent last summer together."

Arnav's eyes darkened briefly, but he remained silent, prompting her to continue.

"Then we went to a coffee shop. She said it was your favourite.... that you two frequented it last summer."

Arnav chuckled softly. "She didn't actually lie. She just omitted some crucial details."

Khushi frowned. "I don't understand."

"It’s true we were at that farmhouse last summer," her heart almost stopped at his admission. "But she conveniently left out the ten other people who were there with us as well. Every summer, Mr. Kashyap invites his apprentices to spend a week at his farmhouse with him and his family before the vacation."

"And as for the coffee shop," Arnav continued, "we used to go there as a group every evening during our stay at the farmhouse. It's just an okayish place, nothing special. That you already know since you've been there."

A silence fell between them as they both absorbed the situation, each lost in their own thoughts. The bustling energy of the restaurant faded into the background as they reflected on their conversation. The clinking of dishes and the murmur of other diners became a distant hum. Arnav’s fingers, still gently caressing hers, seemed to hold a comforting warmth, while Khushi’s gaze lingered on him, curious to know more.

"Did Mr. Kashyap give you the proposal that summer?"

"Yes," Arnav replied thoughtfully. "I actually know Lavanya from university. She was my junior but we were in the same debate group... and as time went on, our social circles began to overlap. One of my friends back then suggested I should pursue Lavanya. At the time, I wasn't actually looking for any distraction. I had this one-track mind to finish the course as soon as possible and go home. After graduation, I started my apprenticeship...I didn’t really see her again until last summer when she began attending the Inns of Court parties."

It was as if Khushi’s curiosity was increasing exponentially. She wanted to know so much more but didn’t want to ruin their evening. Still, she decided to let her heart take control and ask him everything she needed to know to find peace.

"Why didn't you marry her?"

"Because I was in love with someone else."

Khushi simply nodded, her lips forming a surprised 'o' as a rush of thoughts and emotions swirled in her mind. She wasn’t sure how to respond, the weight of his words hanging heavily between them.

"You see, Khushi, the summer before that, I kissed a very drunk girl who might not have been in her right consciousness, but she stole all of my senses....that beautiful girl gave me countless sleepless nights."

Her eyes held a playful accusation as she gazed at him, noticing the smirk dancing at the corner of his lips.

"Is that all?" Arnav asked. He had no desire to linger on this subject any longer.

Khushi hesitated and then blurted out, "How did she know about the scar on your left thigh?"

A deep furrow appeared between his eyebrows as he gazed at Khushi, the corners of his mouth set in a hard line. He sighed, "She took it too far, didn't she?"

After a brief pause, he said, "She was there when it happened. There's a lake nearby, and we all went fishing one afternoon. We found an old boat, and I cut my thigh on a sharp edge when we tried to get on it."

Arnav’s mind drifted to that day, recalling how Lavanya had insisted on dressing his wound. David rescued him by taking charge of the dressing himself, though he never missed a chance to remind Arnav of his favour.

Khushi felt a cloak of mortification settle over her. Her downcast eyes were fixed on his finger gently caressing her palm.

"She didn't actually lie about the scar too, I guess. She just said she would have an identical scar on her thigh like you. It was me who assumed the worst."

"That's exactly what she wanted you to assume. Don't feel bad about that." he chuckled humorlessly.

Khushi felt her cheeks burn. She felt utterly embarrassed for being fooled like that. She blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from her eyes. Arnav took her hand in his and gently tugged it, urging her to look at him.

"Hey, don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Fold in on yourself. You need to talk about what's bothering you, Khushi. Don't let it fester in your mind." He sighed, "You used to share everything with me. Now you don't. Did I do something wrong?"

"No," she replied with an embarrassed smile. "I've dumped so many pointless conversations on you over the years. You probably need a break. I don't want you to run away, scared by my ramblings."

He looked at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes softened, and his face transformed into the expression she adored—a look that made him a hundred times more handsome than usual.

"You aren't going to lose me, Khushi."

A lone tear escaped her eye as she gazed at the beautiful face of the man who had become her whole world. She longed for him to want her for the rest of his life, and only her. She wished these caramel-brown eyes would look at her as if she were his entire universe. She wanted him to dream only of her and to feel as if he would crumble into pieces if she ever stopped loving him. Because that’s how she felt about him, and she yearned for him to feel the same way.

"You have no idea how deeply I feel for you."

"I love you too, Mrs. Raizada."

"You mean comparing a small tree to an entire forest?" she said with a teasing smile as she brushed her tear away.

"A small tree, Mrs. Raizada? You could have at least compared it to a garden. You've just wounded me," he replied, feigning pain. Khushi broke into a fit of giggles, her laughter filling the space between them.

Their moment was interrupted when the waiter arrived with their food. Once the server left, Arnav’s eyes smoldered as he asked, "Do you really think it’s just a small tree?"

"I was just teasing you," she said with a soft smile. "Most of the time, I feel it's at least a small forest—except when I'm being a bit 'sanki'." She winked at him as she dug in.

As they stepped out of the restaurant after dinner, the chilling wind of London swept around them. It was noticeably colder than it had been all year. Arnav helped Khushi put on her scarf and coat, his movements gentle and attentive as he wrapped the fabric snugly around her. Khushi shivered despite the layers and rubbed her hands together. She edged closer to Arnav as they walked down the dimly lit streets.

"Why haven’t you brought your gloves?" Arnav scolded gently.

Before Khushi could respond, Arnav removed his left glove and handed it to her. She took it without thinking and blinked down at it.

"Put it on," he urged, coming to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Khushi slid the glove onto her hand. It was too large for her, but it still retained the warmth of his skin. Once her hand was covered, Arnav intertwined their gloved fingers and slipped his bare hand into his coat pocket, guiding Khushi to place her bare hand into her own pocket. As they walked hand in hand through the chilly night, a serene calm settled over them.

"Can I ask you a question?" Khushi said, tugging on his hand to get his attention.

"Mm-hmm."

"Why did you fall in love with me?"

"Um...because you kissed the hell out of me."

"Arnav, I’m serious," Khushi whined.

"What? I had dreamed about our first kiss for almost two years. Why can’t that be a valid reason?"

"You are impossible." Amusement and mirth sparkled in her eyes. "You know, I spent a lot of time last summer imagining what kind of person you would fall in love with one day."

"And?"

"I drew up a picture in my mind, you know, kind of like a blueprint."

"And It didn’t match you at all, did it?" he chuckled.

Surprised, Khushi looked at him and averted her eyes to look ahead.

"What was she like?"

"Strong, independent, smart," she whispered in the air, her voice barely audible over the rustling of the wind.

Arnav fell silent, his gaze thoughtful as he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Khushi watched him intently and wondered what he might be thinking, the pause stretching between them as she waited for him to speak.

"You’re right," he finally said. "That’s totally my type. And I got lucky to find someone who happens to give the best kisses as well." He leaned in to steal a kiss, muffling her protest. Straightening up, Khushi shot him a glare, but he just smiled and began walking, pulling her along with him.

"Buaji thik kehti hain, sanki ho tum. You are really mad." he said shaking his head. "That's why Lavanya unnerves you so much, isn't it? I won’t deny that she does have her own qualities, but I refuse to let you believe you're anything less."

"Come on, I know who I am," her voice so small.

"You don’t give yourself enough credit, do you?"

"What have I done in my life that makes you think I’m all of those things?"

He stopped walking and turned her to face him. "I’m not good with words, Khushi, but I want you to know that I’ve always admired your strength, even as a kid. You’ve even inspired me to keep going at times......and it absolutely breaks my heart to know that you see yourself as the total opposite."

He held her gaze and continued, "You chose to live, Khushi. You chose to love." She broke eye contact and looked over his shoulder. He gently tugged her hands to draw her closer to meet his gaze again. Reluctantly, she turned her eyes back to his, but they remained guarded.

"I am sure It took immense strength to keep going when all you wanted was to curl up and disappear. Yet, you gave life a second chance. Loving chachu and chachi as deeply as you loved your own parents wasn't easy, but you did it. You chose to find happiness with your new family..... Despite the bitterness of your past, you've held on to your inner child." He gave her a soft smile as her eyes shone, held captive by his gaze. "Now, look at yourself. You've grown into a kind, gentle and strong human being. And that’s truly remarkable, I think."

"And let’s not forget 'sexy,' too," He added under his breath, causing Khushi to let out a teary laugh.

As these two souls stood still, oblivious to the people and the chilly wind around them, they sought to uncover treasures in each other’s gaze. A slow smile ghosted over Khushi’s lips.

"You seem pretty good with words to me." Her eyes sparkled in the street lights as she said accussingly, "But you still didn't answer my question."

His lips curved into the half-smile Khushi loved so much as he kissed the tip of her nose, which was turning red from the cold. "You are my blueprint, Khushi."

"Come on, I don’t want to freeze to death," Arnav said, dragging her along as she giggled. The echos of her laughter danced in the cold wind.

As they neared their house, Khushi gently pulled a somewhat reluctant Arnav toward her favourite bench. The quiet of the neighbourhood seemed to invite a moment of stillness. Khushi settled comfortably against him, resting her head on his shoulder. With a contented sigh, she closed her eyes and took in the serene surroundings—the faint rustling of leaves, the distant hum of the city, and the gentle embrace of Arnav beside her. The world seemed to pause for a moment, and she savoured the peace and warmth of the simple, shared tranquillity.

“Mujhe yeh bohot accha lag raha hai,” Khushi said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Kya?” Arnav asked, turning slightly to look at her.

“Yeh—ap, hum, aur hamari choti si duniya,” she replied, a gentle smile playing on her lips. The warmth in her words wrapped around them like a cozy blanket.

Smiling, he pressed his cheek against her head.The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble.

“Do you remember me as a child, like before my parents died?” Khushi asked, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

“Yeah, I do. you were like a tiny human being. It’s amazing how something so small could be so annoying,” Arnav said with twinkling eyes.

She shoved him playfully, and they both laughed, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night.

“I don’t remember much,” Arnav admitted after a bit, his tone turning nostalgic. “But I do remember you being a very happy kid.”

Arnav chuckled as a specific memory came to mind. “One time, we went to your haveli during Diwali. You were stuffing your face with jalebis. I asked you for one, and do you know what you did?”

Khushi shook her head.

"You stuck your tongue out at me and told me to lick your fingers,” Arnav continued, laughing at the recollection. “Even then, you were obsessed with me.”

Khushi rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. To emphasize her mock annoyance, she stuck her tongue out at him just like she did back then.

Without missing a beat, he gently grabbed her by the neck and kissed her sweetly. The kiss was soft and lingering.

As they pulled apart, the first droplets of rain began to fall, turning into a light drizzle. Arnav looked up at the sky, then back at Khushi. He momentarily got stuck in that moment. She looked so beautiful, so serene, it stole his breath. Her hair, escaping from her scarf and slightly tousled from their kiss, framed her face beautifully. The soft glow of the streetlights cast a gentle light on her features, making her eyes sparkle like stars. Her lips, still curved in a tender smile, were slightly flushed, and her cheeks had a rosy tint from the cold, with rain droplets catching in her eyelashes and glistening like tiny jewels.

Reluctantly, they hurried towards the house hand in hand, his eyes never leaving hers. The drizzle quickly transformed into a heavy downpour, the rain creating a symphony of splashing water around them. They barely made it inside before the rain came down in full force, drenching the world outside.

<previous> | <next>

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari

[izzy-the-chaotic-gremlin]

Zeno info dump

If this is confusing I am SO sorry

BackStory

Ok I'ma bit this in bit and pieces since I have NO idea on how to explain it....

As a kiddo he was very chaotic, this led to him getting into a LOT of trouble. One day while messing around with a lighter this is when he was ten btw he decided to start burning blankets, but it went farther than blankets MUCH farther. He accidentally burnt down the house! The incident killed both of his parents leaving him to have between home to home. Eventually he ended up in a house in a small Italian town, it was in this town that he met Peppino's mom! He ended being VERY good friends with her, she was actually his first friend. I'm only stating this cus I needed to explain a little something that happens in @chatting-with-peppino :]

Ok now there's a little gap in the story that I'm working to fill, so I'ma go ahead and hop forward around 15 years.

One day while roaming the streets he found a poster, the poster was a help wanted poster to help build a tower.... Zeno, or as a human, Zaarib decided "know what? Let's do it! It's not like anybody else wants to give me a job...." It's at this job that he met PizzaHead! They ended up becoming best friends, Zaarib worked as the mechanic for PizzaHead, or as Zaarib called him, Totino! When working on Blood Sauce Dungeons Zaarib accidentally fell into one of the spaghetti sauce pools, and since this was a early build of the stage the sauce was EXTREMELY hot, skin melting, bone BURNING level hot. It was here that he died.... He ended up in hell because he did drugs and was an alcoholic as a human......

And now we are at the present! Where Zeno now spends his time with Peppino and Marhia. His death was around 30 years prior btw he's 50 years old in the present

Design traits

- he is a goat! When angry his horns will properly grow out and wrap around his ears

- he has a cape on

- he wears gloves to hide his hove'ed hands

- one of his purple are square shaped and the other is a oval

- he also has hove'ed feet, he wears shoes to hide them tho

- he has a swirl on his bowtie

- he usually floats above the ground Cain likes as in tadc style

- he can't stop smiling like Alastor from Hazben Hotel

Extra

He is VERY chaotic, but not in the usual Noisy style, no it's the "stealing candy from babys" style, it's also really similar to Blitzø from Helva Boss

He doesn't really understand his emotions so he ends up resting to everything with anger or chaos. Surprisingly he regrets EVERYTHING that he does, he HATES being mean to others but it's all that he knows, he can't NOT be mean.

Ok I explained that like absolute shit, hears a better explanation of it

He a lot like Blitzø in a many ways

His voice claim is Meowth from Pokemon

Since he knows ZERO social skills his way of showing affection is just aggressively staring and or getting into others personal bubbles. When he does this it's his way of saying "hi, I trust you and you're my friend now!" He's like a really weird cat to be honest lafmo

His literal only friend is Marhia. The only reason that he was able to become friends with her is because she is not fazed by ANY of his dumb shenanigans, also cus she is actually able to physically knock him out if he's doing something bad lafmo

He will purr aggressively when happy

He can shape shift! Altho he can only turn into a Fox, Goat, Deer, and Dog

He fukin LOVES pizza. Unfortunately he's always too scared/prideful to ask for any. Marhia usually ends up giving it to him anyways since Zeno usually just stares at her while she's eating

His personality is basically if you mixed Jax (tadc), Blitzø (Helva Boss), and Bill Cypher (gravity Falls)

Marhia generally really really likes him as a friend! Her main goal is to help redeem him! This is going by Hazben Hotel logic btw

I made. A playlist for him btw :3

@mrfellsans @cutechan555 @luigigirl12

Gah this took me so long to do 😵‍💫

Also hears a video do y'all have an idea of what he sounds like

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wieman - Part 14

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Word : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, November 7th; 8:45 AM - Ona and Alexia's Room

I stretch in my bed when I realize that I won't be able to sleep any longer. I had already been tossing and turning for a good ten minutes now. I sigh as I see that it's not even nine o'clock on the radio alarm. This school is definitely changing me. It's Saturday, and I'm still stuck here. It's not such a bad thing if I think about what's waiting for me in Barcelona. My week went relatively well if you forget about my tardiness on Tuesday and the interaction with my teacher on Wednesday. I understood that Bronze didn't like it and wanted to punish me with this weekend. It only takes her disapproval for me to stay here. I also started catching up on my lessons in her office after my classes since Thursday. She's depriving me of a good part of my free time.

Well, at least I'm not alone this weekend. I learned that Bronze is also staying. We had dinner together last night and even ended the evening watching a movie. I had stupidly suggested it and was surprised that she accepted. She must have pitied my boredom. I realize now that I fell asleep during the movie and here I am alone again. She must have put away my laptop because I can't see it anymore. I don't worry too much about it and take my phone from my bedside table to check social media. I quickly get bored and decide to put my phone away and get out of bed. Too bad the rules remain the same on weekends. I never tried to take it outside since there are always at least two instructors staying. Today, one of them is Bronze, so I'm even less likely to take the risk.

I dress in jeans and a thick sweater. It's starting to get cold outside. The sun has disappeared for a few days, leaving clouds and a cool breeze. Needless to say, I'm not used to it! I brush my teeth and finish with some makeup and a brush through my hair. Before leaving, I make my bed neatly and put on my military jacket. I've grown accustomed to this jacket. It's practical and not so ugly if I wear it with regular clothes. It gives a certain style. Luckily for me, breakfast is served until nine-thirty on weekends. I have plenty of time to go. I hope to run into Bronze along the way... It seems I'm not lucky because I end up eating alone.

I go looking for her right after, as she told me she didn't mind spending the day with me. It's always better to be with her than to stay alone in my corner, twiddling my thumbs. Knowing her, she's already awake. I look in all the places she's likely to be. There's no sign of her presence. I even risked knocking on her room without permission, but no one answered. All that's left is her office... It's with relief that I finally find her there, deeply engrossed in paperwork.

- Hey, Bronze.

- Oh, hi Ona, she replies, looking up. Finally up?

- Finally? I chuckle.

- From what you told me, you don't get up early on weekends.

- Normally that's the case. This is the first time I've managed to sleep this long.

- I told you you'd get used to it quickly, she smiles. I came by your room around eight, but you were still asleep.

- Oh, sorry about that and for falling asleep last night too.

- No problem, she giggles. You needed the sleep.

- Can I stay with you?

- Of course. I won't be much longer.

I smile and quickly sit down across from her desk, on the chair that has become my spot. I watch her work and realize she's busy. I didn't know she worked on weekends too.

- By the way...

- Hmm? she responds without looking at me.

- I never had the chance to thank you for my birthday gift, so thank you. You're really crazy! What you bought me is expensive, but it made me really happy. How did you know it was my favorite gear?

- I didn't know, she smiles, looking up. I just asked the salesperson for advice and he recommended it. I'm glad you liked it. Have you used it yet?

- No, I haven't had the chance yet, but I brought it here since I didn't have anything else. Maybe I'll start using it one evening when I'm not too exhausted.

She nods before returning to her papers. I don't dare disturb her anymore seeing her so focused. She scribbles on each sheet, then flips it over to start the next one. I hadn't immediately noticed, but she's not wearing her uniform. It's the first time I've seen her in her own clothes. She's wearing a white shirt that suits her perfectly. It’s quite different from her camouflage jacket. Her hair is down in a naturally wavy style, very pretty. It's so strange to see her so... normal. She knows how to present herself. The few pieces of jewelry she wears complete her outfit perfectly. She manages to be both classy and chic. I notice her jeans fit her well when she stands to get a binder from the cabinet. My eyes widen when I see her heels. I didn't think she was the type to wear those shoes. I suppress my expression when she turns to me and frown when she hands me the binder.

- Since you're here, would you mind helping me? I need to make another stack.

- I guess I don't have a choice.

- You can say no. It just saves you from waiting around twiddling your thumbs.

- Well, you could have come up with a better argument. You're lucky I was going to say yes.

I take the binder from her hands. She sits back down and gives me the stack she just finished. I file them away without needing her instructions. I know how to do it from doing it so often. Meanwhile, she starts on the next pile.

- So, you managed to sleep longer? she brings the topic back.

- Yeah, my first "lie-in" in this lousy place, I replied, mimicking air quotes.

- Watch your language, she scolds me harshly.

- Oh, you can't argue...

- Yes, I can.

I roll my eyes, preferring not to respond. She won't let me have the last word, even though I'm sure she doesn't think any less of it since we discussed the school and Sarina with Leah and Engen. She doesn't like the new rules imposed on them, but she enforces them anyway. I'll never understand her.

- Do you have any plans today? she changes the subject.

- No... Maybe I'll take the opportunity to open a book.

- Hmm, too bad for you then... she smiles slyly.

- Why? I frown.

- I had something planned, but since you're busy, I won't disturb you.

I look at her, bewildered. I feel like she's teasing me. She should know I said that because that's what I would do if I had nothing else to do.

- Go ahead, propose.

- No, too late, she teases.

Since when does she act like this with me? I want to smile, but mostly, I want to know what she's thinking.

- Come on! Tell me, Lucy.

I try to stifle a smile as she raises an eyebrow. It's the first time I've used her first name since I learned it, and I wanted to see her reaction. I'm not disappointed. It's strange to call her something other than Bronze or commander.

- Don't call me that here.

- There's no one around, I roll my eyes.

- That's not a reason. You never know who's around.

- So, can I call you that elsewhere?

- No, she replies, making me smile.

- So, what did you have planned?

- I never said I was including you.

- You implied it!

- Until you told me you were busy.

- Oh, come on! You know very well that I'm bored here and that's why I said that!

She ignores me and continues her work with a smile on her lips. Damn... I think she's going to leave me in suspense. I hide my frustration to avoid her mocking me. To pass the time, I quickly finish the work she gave me while she finishes hers. Luckily for me, she finishes quickly. I watch her as she puts the binder back in its place and rummages through one of her desk drawers. I'm puzzled when she pulls out some keys.

- Come on, get up, let's go.

Her words catch me off guard. I stand up from my chair without asking questions. She locks her office door and looks around, as if to make sure we're alone in the hallway.

- You don't need to get ready? she asks, eyeing me.

I frown, not understanding why she's asking that. I shake my head. She smiles and dangles some keys around her finger.

- Why are you showing me that?

- Promise not to tell anyone?

- Tell what, Lucy? I ask, making her roll her eyes at the use of her name.

- Do you have any special desire today?

- I don't know. Why?

- I think it wouldn't hurt you to go out a bit after everything you've been through.

I remain silent, finally understanding her intentions. She wants us to go out?! I don't even dare ask her directly for fear of being disappointed.

- You realize you're going to break all the rules by doing this?

- If you prefer, we can stay here.

- Are you kidding?!

- Then shut up, she smiles. There are few staff members on camp this weekend. We can slip away without any problem, but I need your utmost discretion.

- Promise! I quickly reply.

- Good, let's go now then. We don't have much time.

- Not much time?

- Ingrid is handling the reception for an hour. Same for tonight, she informs me, looking at her watch. We have fifteen minutes. Come on, move!

Even Engen is in on this? I don't know if I should laugh considering the moral lesson they gave us again on Wednesday night. I quickly follow Lucy, heading towards the parking lot. We find her beautiful Audi... I'll never get tired of it! She asks me to duck down until we're out of the camp. I chuckle. I feel so ridiculous doing it, but it's for a good cause. I only sit up once we're past the reception where Engen wishes us a good day. We thank her, and then Bronze speeds through the streets. I start to recognize the road leading to downtown. I might be wrong, but it seems like that's where we're headed.

- So, any special desire? she asks again, pulling me out of my contemplation of the scenery.

- Why are you doing this? Why take me out of camp?

She glances at me. She shrugs.

- Actually, I don't know, she admits. I think you deserve it after your involuntary withdrawal and all that. Plus, I saw your dejected face when I told you you couldn't go home. I understood that you needed to see something else.

- Thank you... I murmur.

I lower my head and nervously play with my fingers. She must have noticed my change in behavior because she places her free hand on my shoulder.

- Hey, I didn't mean to make you feel bad like that.

- It's not that, on the contrary, I say, smiling timidly.

She removes her hand to shift gears. We don't talk anymore. We've just arrived downtown and we're already caught in traffic.

- I feel like I'm important to you, even if that's not the case, I say. It feels good to be taken care of like you do.

- You are important.

I look at her without hiding my surprise. She keeps repeating that I'm a student like any other. How can she say something like that now? She contradicts all the words she's upheld until now. She sighs, running a hand through her hair. I think she just realized what she said.

- What I mean is that you intrigue me. It's clear that you have a past you don't accept. I sense that you're not comfortable in your own skin, and that drives me to help you. I'll always respect your privacy and boundaries, but I enjoy learning about who you are, Ona. Plus, I have to admit that I also enjoy the little game we've set up between us. Many people, including myself, think it adds some cheer to the camp.

Her words sound so sincere. I don't know what to say or what to think. She must have sensed my discomfort because she changes the subject.

- Yeah... Anyway, it's eleven o'clock. I thought we could do a paintball session for an hour, she suggests. Then, we can eat wherever you want.

- Really?

- Yeah, and for this afternoon, we can still discuss it. I know several cool places we could go to.

- Paintball, then...? I murmur. Do you want to take me down or something? I joke.

- The idea is quite appealing, she says with amusement. But it could go both ways. We'll have a private field just for us.

- Seriously?

- Yes, I know the owner. Are you interested?

- Obviously! Like I'd miss a chance to beat you!

Her laughter makes me smile. This day is likely to be one of the best of my life. She takes the first opportunity to exit the main road to avoid the traffic. We continue driving for a few minutes before she parks in a lot. I observe the building, which looks like a warehouse with its metal facade. Lucy leads the way after grabbing a bag from her trunk. She seems to know the place well. We enter, and the decor takes my breath away. Everything is black, even the ceiling and floor. It's truly stunning! I linger on the fluorescent tags on one of the walls. They are very realistic and really beautiful. Lucy must have noticed my distraction because she calls out to me. I hurry to join her at the counter, where a man with an impressive build is standing behind it.

- This is Beth, a friend of mine, she announces.

- Hello.

- Hi, Ona.

She caught me off guard by calling me by my name. Bronze must have introduced me... or talked about me. I timidly return her smile. She seems amused by my shyness. At the same time, she is very impressive. I'm surprised by their friendship. I must be judging her by his appearance. She seems nicer than she looks.

- Well, you know your way around here, huh? she laughs. I'll leave you to it; you know the way. I've reserved room 3 for you.

- Yep, thanks.

- Have fun!

She winks at me. Lucy rolls her eyes and pulls me along with her. We arrive in a sort of locker room next to room three. I don't even know where to look. I'm really into the decor that is the same everywhere. I linger on every new drawing I see.

- Ona, are you listening to me?

- Huh?

- You're impossible, she mocks. Do you like it here that much?

- Totally! Have you seen the drawings everywhere? They're really beautiful!

- Get changed instead of daydreaming, she says, handing me a jumpsuit. I took the liberty of grabbing some clothes from your wardrobe this morning, she informs me. You need to be comfortable for this kind of activity.

I didn't even notice she took anything. I must have been sleeping soundly to not hear anything. She hands me my gray joggers and a black t-shirt. I feel like I'm back at camp.

- Even here, you're still giving me orders?

- Well, yes. Why would that change? After all, it's up to you if you want bruises.

I've never played paintball, but I've heard that it can hurt if you get shot from too close. Bronze is a regular here, so she must know what she's talking about. I get into a booth without complaining to put on my clothes, then the jumpsuit over them. It's so thick that I wouldn't be surprised if there's a bulletproof vest in there. I finish with shoes that look a lot like the boots I have at school. When I come out, I find Lucy equipped and loading our guns. A smile spreads across my face. I can tell I'm going to have a blast... Who hasn't dreamed of being able to shoot at a teacher at will? It's kind of the same thing here. She's not my teacher, but she's still my superior, my mentor, I'd say.

- Need help? I ask.

- I've got it, don't worry. Yours is ready.

She points to the gun on the bench. I pick it up and check that it's really loaded. You never know, maybe she wanted to cheat! I watch her skillfully load hers. She must come here regularly, it seems. We put on our gloves, and before we leave, she adjusts something on my outfit by zipping up my jumpsuit to my chin.

- It's uncomfortable and I feel suffocated like this, I mumble.

- But it's for safety, so you're going to leave it like that.

I roll my eyes but say nothing. We finally leave the locker room, which she locks, and head to our room right next door. My lips part as I take in the environment. I don't know where to look. This place is just getting better and better! The wall colors are still dark, but the lighting makes the room perfect. Small spotlights illuminate strategic areas without blinding us. We are on a height and can see the many walls covered with artificial foliage. The decoration is a mix between a maze and a battlefield. If there weren't some fluorescent traces on the walls, you'd think we were in a real training camp. The large room is filled with background music. It's just perfect. I follow her down the stairs.

- Well, she pulls me out of my contemplation. We're each going to our side, she points to the two flanks. All hits are allowed, but obviously, avoid the head.

- Okay.

- And also avoid close-range shots. You may not know it, but it hurts like hell, she laughs. We could end up with bruises for a long time otherwise.

- Got it, Bronze.

- Good, she smiles. May the best one win!

I watch her disappear to her side before heading to mine. I try to get my bearings. I don't know this maze, unlike Lucy probably. I try to stay alert as best as I can.

- Damn it! I shout.

I start running to take cover from the first shot I just took. Lucy's laughter echoes in the room. How did she find me so quickly? She just kicked off the festivities! I managed to find a hiding spot behind the fake leaf nets. My hideout is so good that she passes right by me without seeing me. It's funny to watch her search for me while staying on guard. It's clear she's better than me, but I can be sneakier if I want to be. I don't hesitate for a second to press the trigger several times before running away so she won't spot me.

- Well played, she laughs.

The game continues for a good while. We're literally playing cat and mouse. I admit that I'm often the mouse... We're both covered in paint, though she definitely got me more times. I'm jealous of how easily she handles it. She's so skilled at anything that requires endurance and tactics. I'm lying on my stomach, crawling to avoid being noticed. I've continued my trickery, which has successfully countered several of her attacks. She just passed by me without noticing, and I'm currently trying to find her.

- Can you explain what you're doing?

I stop dead in my tracks. I roll onto my back to see her beside me, her gun pointed at me. Damn! She mocks my warrior stance from a second ago.

- I think it's time for you to surrender, she says amused.

- Never!!!

We both start shooting at each other until I run out of paintballs.

- Is this a joke?!

- You see, all the signs are there to say I've won and you should surrender.

- Like I'd give you that satisfaction, I laugh.

I cry out in pain when she shoots me in the thigh from very close. I curse under my breath, dropping my gun to rub my thigh where it hurts.

- Okay, okay, I surrender!

I see Lucy's face change from worry to amusement. We both laugh before she slumps against the wall next to me.

- And you're the one who told me not to shoot from close! I groan.

- Sorry, it just happened, I didn't mean to, she giggles.

- Tell that to someone else, I laugh.

- Are you okay?

- I'll just have a great bruise, but I'm fine.

- I have some ointment in the bag, it'll help.

We look at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. I'd forgotten what it felt like to have this much fun. It's been a long time since I've smiled like this. We calm down, leaving a relaxing silence. She slumps next to me. There's just music in the background. It was really awesome. I briefly glance at Lucy and notice she's as euphoric as I am. It seems we both needed a moment like this. We forgot all our problems for a moment. I never thought I'd have a moment like this with her.

- Still, it was cheating... You have more training than me and you knew the layouts.

- I agree with the first point, but not the second. Beth changes the room layouts once a week.

- Damn, I thought I had an excuse...

- You did pretty well for a first time, she admits, which pleases me. Next time, we'll make teams with my friends if you want, and I'll show you how to better guard and hide yourself.

- Next time? I say, smiling

- Hmm, yes, why not. If the opportunity arises.

The idea is appealing. It would mean she'd want to spend more time together. I'd love that.

- I'd really like that.

She smiles back at me. We've made significant progress today. I feel her trust, and it's the first time she's suggested meeting her friends. I'd love to do that. Maybe I'll learn more about her true personality. I patiently await the day she'll want to open up to me like a normal person and not as my superior. I hope that moment comes sooner than I think.

- Can I ask you a question? I ask.

- Go ahead.

- It might be inappropriate, but... If one day I get a pass and you do too, could you show me around the city?

10

- Aren't you planning to go back home on your leaves?

- Yes, of course! I want to see my brother, but why not stay here once? I'd like to explore the city. I don't really feel at home in Barcelona anymore, I admitted.

- Do you think you'll like it here?

- I'm not sure. It's not necessarily the place I like, but the people. I said I wouldn't get attached, but I have to many people. Ale, Leah... Even with you or Ingrid, who I've started to find quite nice since the night we talked.

- I see, she smiled. Why not, then? I could host you for a weekend if you want.

- Really?

- Yes, but no one must know.

- I know, like today. I'm not that stupid.

- Well, she said, standing up. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry.

- Oh, yes!

My stomach growls to confirm my hasty response. I pick up my gun that I dropped earlier and get up with difficulty. I'm already dreading the soreness I'll feel tomorrow. We head back to the locker room, where Lucy lends me her famous ointment. I apply it when I'm back in the changing booth and come out wearing my clothes from this morning. Lucy is ready and is folding her jumpsuit.

- So, Ona, where do you want to eat?

- I'm really going to sound like a teenager... But I really want a good McDonald's. Is there one around here?

- Yeah, there's one right across the street.

- Yes!

Lucy helps me fold my jumpsuit properly, and then we head back to the reception area. Beth asks us how it went, and I tell her I'll be back. My answer seems to please her. We wish her a good day before leaving. The fresh air feels great. It was getting warm inside. Lucy wasn't lying when she said there's a McDonald's right across the street. I didn't even notice it when we arrived. So, we walk over. We order our meals, and she insists on paying for me. Actually, she didn't really give me a choice. That's when I realize I didn't pay for the paintball either.

- You don't have to pay for everything. I can afford it.

- Consider today a birthday present, then.

- You're really annoying! I grumbled. You've already given me gifts, and my birthday has long passed.

- Others would be happy in your place.

I grumble as I sit across from her at our table. She hands me my order since we only have one tray.

- Maybe, but I don't like feeling indebted.

- You don't have to feel indebted, it makes me happy.

I sigh, resting my head on my hand. I sulk, looking around for some distraction. There's no shortage of that in a McDonald's because there's always a crowd. Despite it being almost 1:30 p.m., there's still a lot of people in line at the counter. My eyes linger on a young girl who just walked in. She smiled at me right away. I smile back and allow myself to check her out as she continues to the counter. I must say she's quite attractive. I can't really do this kind of thing at camp. Not only are there not many girls to my taste, but I'm also observed by others. It's Lucy's throat clearing that pulls me out of my contemplation. I let go of my gaze to look at her. She has a smile on her lips and one eyebrow raised.

- Do you want me to help you, maybe?

My cheeks instinctively redden. This is what you call being caught red-handed. I wasn't discreet at all, and I feel embarrassed. It's not really like me to check out a girl. I still don't fully accept myself.

- I-... Um, sorry.

- You are way too obvious

- It's not what you think.

My cheeks heat up even more, uncomfortable with the situation. I

- No, sure, you totally weren't eyeing her.

- Shut up! This is getting embarrassing.

- Then own it, she smiled teasingly.

- There's nothing to own.

- Really. Your words make it clear you don't accept yourself.

- No, it's true. I don't, I broke down.

- I understand.

- I doubt it, I scoffed. No one can understand without having lived it.

I lift my head from my hamburger, faced with her telling silence. She continues to eat as if nothing happened.

- No, wait... Don't tell me you're a lesbian?!

- Okay, I won't tell you, she smiled, picking at a fry.

- No way! Seriously?

- Seriously.

She holds back laughter at my shocked expression. I didn't see that coming. I never would have believed it if someone else had told me. How can she say it so easily? To think I always talked about a guy when discussing her ex. She never corrected me. She probably didn't want to reveal too much.

- So, why don't you accept yourself?

- I don't know, I replied, shrugging. I consider myself as a lesbian the problem is I don't like the way people look at me because of it. I'm also scared of the reaction from those close to me... for what's left of them.

- But you already dated girls.

- Yes, obviously! Well, the first one to be honest... was Mapi...

- From what you've told me, you seem to have a good relationship. Why aren't you together anymore?

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. I hesitate. I don't like talking about myself, but even more so when it comes to my love life. On the other hand, she already knows a lot, and she just confided in me too. It makes me want to talk. I take a deep breath and gather my courage to answer her.

- Um, that's complicated too...

- You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.

- No, no, it's fine... You know, I met Feli... I began, to which she nodded. I was still with Mapi at that time. It didn't take me long to fall into drugs after that. I completely changed and somehow pushed everyone away except Feli since she accompanied me through it all... I ended up cutting off all my relationships, even with Mapi, my family, or my friends. That's how we broke up, and I naturally got together with Feli afterward.

- I see. Do you regret your relationship?

- A little, but I can't blame her. I pushed her away. Besides, she's in a relationship now. I can't afford to ruin everything.

- That makes sense. How did you start talking again?

I hate interrogations, but I can't blame her for being curious. I'm the same way. My hand finds its way to my hair again.

- We have a little ritual... Well, I don't like celebrating my birthday. When she found out, we promised to be the first to wish each other happy birthday, no matter the situation between us. We've never broken that tradition since we met. She was surprised I answered her last year since I hadn't replied to any of her messages for a long time. So she took the opportunity to talk, and that's how she learned I was in a rehab center. When she found out, she wanted to support me, seeing that I wasn't pushing her away anymore.

She just nods, not digging deeper with her questions. I usually hate opening up, but with Lucy, it's different. Everything is easier.

- As for your loved ones, I can't answer that. It's up to you to decide when you're ready to tell them. As for the looks from others... she continues. I know it's not easy. It took me a while to stop caring. Eventually, I realized that no one has the right to judge a stranger. Everyone has the right to do what they want. It's our problem if we prefer girls.

- You're right, but it's hard to face...

- It's just a matter of time, don't worry.

I smile at her. I love how she reassures me in any situation. I also love how attentive she is to what I tell her. She shows me that she cares and will never judge me. That's why I like confiding in her. It's the first time I can do it so easily with someone. Normally, I'm always hesitant. Since my detox, I've realized everything she does for me. I didn't notice it before. I'm starting to trust her. After all, she understood from the beginning that all I needed was a bit of support. She was never intimidated by my attitude, quite the opposite. Even now, she continues to manage me and put me in my place when necessary. I can feel her influence on me. She's completely transforming me. Everyone around me, especially in Barcelona, notices it. Maybe I've finally found the person who will pull me out of all my troubles... The one who will make me feel better and become myself again. The road is still long, but I'm ready to move forward now.

[plusvanity]

Alright so, I wouldn't have finished this so soon but some of you showed interest in my silly ramblings sooooo... here are some of my headcanons for Larry's 'aloof' personality.

Asperger Syndrome

-Since he was a small child, there were a few behavioral differences between him and the rest of the children.

He never really knew how to properly communicate. That might be very common in children BUT he literally had struggles trying to explain anything. Sentences like: 'I want that' or 'can I have that?' were never on his tongue and lots of time he'd get upset at himself/ people around him for not being able to read his mind and take care of his demands. This kind of behavior crosses a bit into 'anti-social' tenancies. (Hard time to communicate, preferred playing alone, very poor social skills, etc) Shortly, his 'forever-upset' personality resulted in children excluding/ isolating him from their games and plays.

-Larry didn't know why nobody wanted to play with him, why everybody avoided him like plague and gave him dubious looks. Throughout his kindergarten and early-school years he never made friends, never had any significant relationships except with his parents.

Why did nobody see these signs and act accordingly?

We're in the late 90's. There's no such thing as ‘diagnosing kids with mental illness’ unless they've got some kind of schizophrenia that really makes them act out. Parents had little to no information about mental health, let alone autism and how it manifests in children. Rough times but that's how they were.

-Growing up lonely, Larry found his refuge in drawing and writing silly little cartoon stories. Solo hobbies are extremely common in the autistic spectrum, especially when they come in package with die-hard fixations/ obsessions.

-Sensorial sensibility: he can’t stand bright lights in his basement. That’s why he always keeps a small desk lamp on and nothing else to see around him.

-In school, he did poorly. The motto was: it’s either you’re the only one who gets it and nobody else does OR everybody else gets it and you’re the only one who doesn’t. No way in between these two.

-The internal struggle of 'Why am I like this? Why do they hate me? What's wrong with me?' never left his brain. Now, communication was absolutely required no matter if he liked it or not. That's school, you're supposed to answer stuff, use your brains to solve problems and get through the day.

-Firstly, he did what his autistic mind told him to do.. he went fully fucking honest and blunt. With every occasion when he got asked about something, he innocently pointed out everything that bothered him/ seemed wrong or annoying without any fucking filter whatsoever. Needless to say, his true-nature approach didn’t escape punishment. His mother was called, the teachers complained that he’s ‘too mean and arrogant’ , ‘never focused’ , ‘too lazy and selfish’ etc. Everything while Larry looked like a fucking deer in the highlights telling his mom that he didn't do nothing wrong.

-When he finally understood that ‘being honest’ wasn't the key for normal human-communication, that's when his mind began searching for other ways to go by.

-Masking-

Masking was the second option.

-He watched, heard, studied, learned and taught himself the Fine Arts of mimicking normal human response in social situations. Now, that's how he mostly made it work.

-As a chill but tragically misunderstood child, he had finally learned how to make friends. It started with Ash and Maple (alternative music and general outcasts) and later in middle-school, Ash presented him to Todd. (Now, I'd rant about Rob and their 'brother from another mother' dynamic and friendship but that's for another long post if any of you are interested)

-When his father abruptly disappeared from the family frame, it just.... made everything ten thousand times worse for Larry (This is gonna be another post if you're interested)

-All in all, now with a select group of friends he’s still aloof, weird, too loud or too quiet sometimes BUT at least he’s not alone and miserable anymore.

Normally, he's a laid back dude, a stoner (autism and substance abuse is another headache of a post..) a metalhead and maybe just a little delinquent sometimes after 8 pm because of teenage rebellion and all that stuff.

-His ‘masking act’ falls sometimes when he talks about painting, video games, music and basically everything that interests him. Asperger in boys is a lot different than in girls. Girls tend to keep their ‘masking act’ better than boys as boys often don't realize when they slip and start talking miles and miles about their favorite hobbies/ subjects without noticing if the person they're talking to completely loses their interest or gets angry for being talked over and interrupted all the time.

His friends find him a bit annoying at times cause… fuck, who like being talked over? but they’re so used to him that it’s just common and gets easily forgotten.

-When the sudden chronic-insomnia hit him, the fatigue and lethargy didn't go unnoticed by Lisa. Finally, she managed to drag him to a doctor that surprisingly or not, completely missed to diagnose him with autism. The shrink blamed his insomnia on weed (another rant here) and …. ADHD?. Larry took the classic DSM-4 test (oh boy, gotta love the 90′s..) it came back negative on symptoms, confirming everybody that he didn't have ADHD. (Now, I know that the two behavioral illnesses often came in package but with Larry it wasn't the case) After that, nobody did anything.

-Now, he lives freely his teenage years hanging out with Sal, regularly smoking weed, getting deeply offended by the un-true belief that he might have ADHD, still trying to figure out what's actually wrong with him that no shrink or DSM could tell and ultimately enjoying his hobbies and little shenanigans him and his best amigo do.

-The ‘masking act’ has long become an automatic behavior, an unconscious switch for normal social situations so, now he’s most definitely not aware that he’s doing it. 

Sal highly suspects him of being autistic due to the fact that he had far more contacts with doctors and psychiatrists in his entire life that he knows VERY WELL the red flags or autistic behaviors. That and because of their first interaction when Larry was like ‘Sup, you like metal? You GOTTA like metal!’ it screams autism from a fucking mile.

This post is embarrassingly LONG and useless.. and I'll shut the fuck up now for real. BUT If anyone feels like asking questions or going deeper down this rabbit hole, feel free to text me <3 as I love waffling about psychology and pretty much anything lol.

Sorry for my bad English, I did my best in trying to explain all that's written above. These are just some of my little silly headcanons and possibly?? more in-depth explanations for some of the things that go on in my SF fanfic.

Ko-fi l  DeviantArt

[copperbadge]

I cannot remember if I've asked this before, so apologies if it's a repeat. I'm not trying to be pushy, just forgetful.

Do you think there will be an omnibus Volume 2? Or will that be difficult as the books seem to be getting longer as you go? I'm planning on asking for the hardcover omnibus as a gift in a few months, and I'm wondering if I should also request/buy Twelve Points (which I read on AO3 and was pleasantly surprised to find it my favorite so far 💙) or if I should hold out for another collection.

Can't wait to read the next one!

I haven't had the question before, so you're good, I think!

At this point I'm fairly confident there will be a second omnibus. I'm definitely planning on putting the next few novels into one if I can get them out the door and that seems pretty likely. It might only be Twelve Points and Royals/Ramblers (maybe the short stories too) because Royals/Ramblers is kind of big, but it's also about 2/3 of the way complete, and I have notes for the rest that make it highly unlikely I'll abandon it. It's more a question of how long it will be before the next omnibus, because Royals/Ramblers is also rather challenging, but I'm hoping to have that one on shelves no later than early 2024, and to put out at least one, hopefully two more books in 2024. So my recommendation would be not to ask for Twelve Points but definitely to save yourself off a PDF copy of it so you can re-read it in the meantime if you want :)

At the moment things are moving a bit slow because I'm dealing with a whole bunch of stuff right now -- work is always busier August-Oct, I'm trying to get a new website built and a newsletter to go with it, I'm still working on building new social skills, I'm in therapy for the first time in twenty-five years, and I'm dealing with some (minor, mild) medical stuff. But I'm still getting work in on Royals/Ramblers weekly and the longer I work on it the less apprehensive I am about it.

Beyond Royals/Ramblers I have at least half, if not more, of the Football Novel written, again with notes for the rest; I also have a fairly complete plot for Simon's chef novel, although not much is actually written on it yet. Past that I have at least premises for a novel about Ofelia, one about davzda manufacture, the Roman Ruin story, the historical fiction about the Shivadh pirate and his Nantucket Quaker whaler, and a handful of other vague ideas.

I don't know if all of those will get written; the Shivadh novels are, essentially, my fandom right now, and my general tenure in any fandom is between two and five years. However, a lot of the time I've bounced from fandoms because I didn't like the direction canon went in and like....I am making the canon here :D And my time in the Marvel fandom lasted almost ten years, not to mention I boomeranged into Good Omens fandom, something I've never done before. So I am hoping to put out at least two more volumes of collected novels in this setting. :)