#it's certainly been A Week but i'm handling it surprisingly well

[holewithinahole]

The Spirit’s in It | Egon Spengler x nb!reader [3/3]

Summary: “I didn’t know psychology doctors also specialized in particle physics, is all.”

What you meant as a light joke to relax him did quite the opposite. He straightens, righting up his glasses one more pointless time. “I have a degree in nuclear engineering,” he states before walking out, leaving you confused and feeling like you’ve spent the entire time offending him unintentionally.

Warnings: angst, non-native writer, non-beta’d

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

And here’s the end. I apologise in advance. It's funny despite how aromantic I am how I'm the best at romanticising relationships lmao. I wanted to explore how romantic relationsips are inherently different for neurodivergent people, especially ppl on the autism spectrum. Yeah...

The end is pretty cliché and I kinda hate it but hey, I live for the tropes. I'm gone, bye! Thank for reading this to its end!

At first, you haven’t been able to swing by the Ghostbusters headquarters as much as you would’ve liked, too busy assisting students for future exams. As Egon predicted, psychokinetic energy has kept rising in New York, meaning the three of them were called all the time to assist here and there. Their secretary – Janine Melnitz you learned when Egon introduced you, has been looking more and more like a ghost herself, and you were sincerely impressed by how much energy she still managed to conjure to send people away. All of that resulted in the hiring of a new member of the team, Winston Zeddmore, a gentle soul of a man who took the place of Egon on the field. It’s often easy to read: ‘I didn’t sign up for this bullshit’ on his face, but he’s resilient and hardworking which is everything the Ghostbusters could have needed and more.

A week after your fresh new meeting, you ended up telling Egon and Dr. Stantz about their research papers stored at your place. The latter had been delighted and thanked you profusely. The retrieval had gone without any incident, although you did notice the baffled look that passed between the two of them when they saw the several towers of boxes. (There had been a discreet comment from Egon questioning humans’ propensity to stack things.)  

Why you ended up at Egon’s place you have no idea. Well, you do know how – most of the files were his after all and you couldn’t let Dr. Stantz handle the walking up five flights of stairs on his own. Plus, Egon wanted to look back at some old papers of his; something about a new plan of approach concerning the storage facility issue. So, there you stood, looking around awkwardly as Dr. Stantz retrieved the last box downstairs. It was a simple apartment, messy and not intended to be anything more than an occasional place to sleep – or, surprisingly, a fungus breeding farm.

Your questioning gaze certainly didn’t go unnoticed. “I collect spores and fungi,” he explained.

“Neat.” You didn’t really think before you carried on, “Is that why you studied microbiology?”

“…amongst other things,” Egon said, looking slightly surprised. “I didn’t realize you knew.”

“Uh,” you trailed off. “I’ve read your papers.”

“All of them?”

Can it get any more embarrassing than that? “…might have.”

He didn’t answer and you thanked him internally for it. The visit was short and to the point, Egon clearly looking uncomfortable having other people trespass into his space. That’s what you kept telling yourself anyway, not especially fond of diving back into the whole ‘I’m an embarrassment to myself, him, and society’ spiral.

In itself, routine didn’t change much. You kept doing most of your research at the university, exchanging with the different professors of the lab, giving your opinions on the students’ ongoing thesis and avoiding Dean Yaeger. Then, you’d meet with the doctors after work to discuss the improvements of the containment facility. But the more the days went by, the more Egon’s temper seemed to flare. Not in the usual, explosive or passive-aggressive nature but in the dwindling of words, and the psychosomatic tremor of his eyelid. You hadn’t been truly able to understand why, when, or how.

Which led you to your actual predicament.

“I don’t think it’ll work, Egon.”

Sitting at a desk, you scratch an equation, staring dejectedly at the example of ‘ionization radiation decay meter’ Egon sketched. The man himself has taken his glasses off and pressed his eyes to alleviate his migraine. “We’ll have to include the system later,” he concedes, looking crossed. “I have to analyze today’s samples.”

After downing the cup of cold coffee you forgot on the desk with a disgusted grimace, you slouch on your chair. You watch Egon from the corner of your eye, busy staring and typing on his computer. He lets out an uncharacteristic annoyed noise.

“Not good?” you ask.

“Like I thought, it’s exponential.” He sighs. “Two days ago, PKE was three times less important than today.”

“Something big on the horizon.”

“Yes,” he says.

This tense atmosphere has you overly cautious as if one wrong word could make this artificial veil of normalcy shatter. It makes your skin crawl, inadequately feeling like your mere presence is making things worse. Leaving his computer behind to sit on the couch, he browses through the results he printed. His tiredness is noticeable even from where you are. You’re about to say something when Venkman comes waltzing in, his energy clashing with the general atmosphere of the room, which he notices immediately.

“Well, well,” he says in a singsong tone. “Who are we burying today?”

Egon doesn’t grace him with an answer, only with a glare before looking back at his results.

“It’s been a long day, I guess,” you answer truthfully to loosen the tension.

Venkman, always in theatrics, opens his arms wide. “Look who we’ve got here! Hello there.” He has his usual smirk on. “You’ve been hanging ‘round here more often.”

“Hello, Dr. Venkman.” You smile. “Just trying to help Egon.”

“And why aren’t we on a first-name basis?”

You certainly don’t voice aloud that you don’t want to give him any ideas, which he gets well enough on his own. Egon, for its part, is frowning so hard his eyebrows have merged with the frame of his glasses. You can almost imagine a big molten hole where his eyes are boring through the paper.

“Egon kindly proposed,” you explain.

“Wow, you guys,” Venkman exclaims. You frown at him, confused. “Congrats, Spengie! Don’t forget the invitation.”

This snaps Egon out of his sulking trance, face hardening at Venkman’s inappropriate comment.

“He kindly offered,” you interject, trying your best to look unfazed at the innuendo and to avoid an act of crime against humanity. “You, however, take everything for granted.”

Venkman whistles – which makes you want to strangle him – but at least Egon doesn’t look like he’s going to jump at his throat from across the room anymore.

“Damn, snarky today, uh? Let’s start over then.” Despite his mocking tone, he walks near you and extends a hand that you look at dubiously. “Hi, the name’s Peter.”

A small part of you doesn’t want to shake his hand, just to rile him up but you still do. Strangely enough, there’s an endearing quality to his man, when he wants to.

“Nice to meet you, Peter.”

The man lets out a pleased chuckle. “Now, now, I’m not trying to get you two to leave but this man–” He tugs at his collar. “–has a date tonight and he will be singing in the shower. So, if you want some peace and quiet, now would be a good time to go play in the basement.”

You scoff. “You’ve got a date.”

Venkman seems either completely oblivious or completely disinterested in your tone. “With a sweet creature called Dana Barrett.”

“Don’t forget to ask her about Zuul, Peter,” Egon says, snapping out of his good ten minutes of selective mutism.

Venkman disappears into their common room. “Did I say date?” he shouts. “I meant work meeting.”

True to his words, he starts singing a bad rendition of Queen of Hearts, making sure to annoy the whole building. Even if it grates on your nerves, it’s fascinating to witness this clutter of a place, with such different personas stacked on top of each other. You’ve never heard the story of how the three of them ended up being best buddies and judging by Egon’s closed-up face, today wouldn’t be the day you ask.

After five minutes of excruciating vocalizations, he puts down his results, standing up from the couch. You eye him curiously. “Where’ you going?”

“The basement.”

You frown, standing up. “You know; I don’t think he was serious.”

“I have readings to do downstairs,” he answers shortly.

He walks towards the stairs but stops, pivoting slightly towards you without meeting your eyes. The prickling sensation at the back of your brain is back. You can’t wrap your head around the contrast between his high-strung demeanor and his unspoken invitation to follow him. The confusion suddenly feels too heavy.

“Egon.” He looks up and you’re not expecting the flatness of his expression, how detached he’s looking. “Are you angry?”

It sounds stupid in your own ears, a ridiculous childish question but it’s out of your mouth before you can think about it. Words are wonderful incentives, you think, but sometimes, they just end up pushing people away.

Egon frowns, still not entirely facing you. “No.”

“Then–”

Venkman comes back into the room, whistling loudly. “Still there, lovebirds?”

You turn to answer him but you’re cut off by the loud steps of Egon hurtling down the stairs, leaving you staring dumbly at the invisible trail he left behind. There’s an uncomfortable silence as you frown, heart beating loudly for a reason you can’t really pinpoint. Venkman stands there, undoubtedly conscious of having said the wrong thing.

“Don’t worry, he’s cranky when he doesn’t have his nap.”

You decide to simply gather your belongings and leave. “I’ll come back in a few days.”

Even if Venkman offers to buy you a taxi, you decide to use the subway and as you stare without seeing at the dirty walls of New York’s underground tunnels, you realize that perhaps you’re starting to care a little too much.

Just a tad too much.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Awakening of Gozer

Perhaps you shouldn’t have gone home that day.

For when you heard that in less than twenty-four hours, the Ghostbusters headquarters exploded and that a cloud of psychokinetic energy appeared above Manhattan, you felt that ‘are you angry’ were stupid words to say to somehow you might never see again.

You stand in front of your TV as journalists follow the Ghostbusters’ car through the streets of New York, crowd in a standing ovation. You feel restless as you look through your window, watching the sky turning dark and the full-blown light show the ghosts seem to be throwing downtown. Even when the black clouds dissipate – reminding everyone that it was barely three in the afternoon, you stare, left leg bouncy, at the screen for the final cry of the crowd, hoping, praying, that it’d be of joy.

You’re not truly sure of the feelings rushing through you when they leave this building, dirtied but alive. As soon as you see their proud faces, you turn off the TV, and lay down on the couch, breathing deeply. You close your eyes and contemplate the labyrinth of paths life could have taken in the last two hours. When ten p.m. rolls out, you stand up, driven by some unknown force out of your apartment. Somehow, the sky still holds the purple hues of the paranormal manifestation that plagued New York this evening, ribbons of ghost energy glowing like winter lights and casting discreet colors on the buildings. Tomorrow, you’ll look back at the usual grayish streaks of pollution and everything will feel like a long fever dream.

It’s silly the way the heart and the brain latch on to these human connections like they’re starving. It’s unfortunate, truly. Unfortunate how walking through the chill of the busy streets leads you to his place; a sanctum at the top of a dirty building. And it’s scary how unable you are to stay away, – now and every day – especially when emotions are all over the place; fear in your stomach, anxiety in your loins, need – this unshakable need — in your heart: terrible, voracious, heavy in your limbs as you drag your exhausted body up the stairs. Knocking on the door is, weirdly enough, more nerve-wracking than having witnessed their improbable excursion on television. Egon opens the door, all intrigued eyes and furrowed brows; dressed so casually it seems unreal.

“I know it’s not the time, and that you don’t like people in your space,” you mumble. “But I was— “

Egon steps away from the doorway, inviting you in silently, and it’s almost reluctantly that you step inside. It’s dimly lit but you notice opened notebooks on his table next to three empty mugs.

“Was I interrupting?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“No,” Egon answers to your surprise. “I was only writing down what happened tonight.”

You hum. “I saw it on TV.”

He gestures to you to take a seat. From your chair, you can see Egon busying himself with his small fungus farm, touching the caps of his mushrooms with the tips of his fingers. “You know; I think you deserve a rest, after saving the city and all.”

“I believe we saved the world.”

The emphasis doesn’t go unnoticed. You chuckle nervously, having found a deep interest in a stain on the floor. “I wonder if your Sumerian God would have been able to conquer the world as a hundred-foot-tall marshmallow man.”

“Gozer is a powerful entity,” he says. “They would have brought the apocalypse on our world.”

“But now it’s gone, eh?” The unusual silence makes you look up at him.  

“We’ve only destroyed a vessel and a portal. There might be more somewhere.”

“Well…” You try to rationalize. “Good thing the Ghostbusters will always be there.”

Egon stills, staring without looking as if he’s debating inside: is it true? Will it be true? Will I do anything to honor this promise? You decide to drop the subject.

“So, how does one destroy the portal of a God? ’Sounds like a lot of molecular bounds to break.”

“We crossed the streams.”

You freeze.

“…I thought you shouldn’t do that, like ever.” It’s easier to fake some lightheartedness in your tone than to face how a simple slip of fate could have made this improvised late-night meeting impossible.

“It did work.”

It’s harder to swallow as if he could suddenly vanish in front of your very eyes, taken away by some dark entity; as if every single particle of his being could disappear forever as they annihilate their counterpart. A total protonic reversal, that’s what Dr. Stantz had said. You unwillingly explore this possibility: how you, safely at home, wouldn’t have known about their utter and complete destruction until the ridiculous vessel of a Sumerian God turned on the city and brought the apocalypse upon the world. Perhaps after a few hours, perhaps after a day, you would have accepted the fact that they had lost. Or you’d have watched an explosion of unimaginable scale, staring blindly at the death of thousands of people and the loss of what became a constant in your life.

You stand up, trying to get rid of the restless energy that has been buzzing underneath your skin for two days now.

“Oh yes, proton-antiproton collisions are usually effective at killing everything around.” You sigh, trying to squash down the trembling in your voice, leaning against his desk. “Even if you weren’t already dead by the annihilation of your own molecules, the explosion would have finished the job.”

But it’s pointless to remind him of what he already knows. Egon still faces his farm but his mechanical movements have stopped. You say, “You’re more of a jackass than I thought.”

“The chances of surviving were low, I’ll admit.”

“No shit,” you mutter lowly. “Bless the uncertainty principle.”

His small cocky smile is an unexpected but welcomed sight. “Quantum theory has never been truly challenging for me.”

It startles a laugh out of you. “You might want to revise your judgment, then.”

Putting down whatever kind of instrument he has been using, he walks closer and leans on the spot next to you; an unusual decision, perhaps even an unspoken attempt at consolation. It’s funny because you’ve never stood this close, ever. There’s always been something between you: a room, a desk, Venkman, your apprehension, his awkwardness… As his shoulder brushes against yours, your heart soars with uneasiness but as soon as you let your bubble of comfort merge with his, it becomes the most natural thing in the world. Only then, at this very instant, does your heartbeat finally slow down, does the gnawing sensation at the pit of your stomach dissipate… leaving you to wonder when it’ll all pop.

“You haven’t told me the purpose of your visit,” Egon says after some time, always traveling the universe at the speed of light.

“Ah yes.” There it is. “I was restless.” He looks at you intently. “It just occurred to me that our last meeting hasn’t been entirely— agreeable.”

You stare at the ground. “I would have preferred not to have left on bad terms.”

“You were worried I wouldn’t come back.” It sounds like an epiphany.

He says ‘I’ and not ‘we’, and you would have liked for his social ineptitude to take a step forward for once, and not his ridiculously sharp sense of observation.

“Well… It’s normal, isn’t it?”

He doesn’t answer. You wish for the world to be ‘normal’ again, or at least the isolated system of your mental landscape. The disruption in the former entity of your thoughts morphs your behaviors, your habits, making you a slave to the random bursts of emotions you’d like to see buried. This energy stays right there, bound by thermodynamics and your fixations. Perhaps this PKE, this conscience energy is the reason for it all.

“I’m afraid that all of this–” You make a half-hearted movement of the arm. “–will disappear.”

“The world?” He asks.

“No. Yes. I mean…“ You swallow. “Here, right now. I’m afraid I’ll wake up in the morning to realize that it’s all gone.”

“I don’t think reality will end during the night.”

You don’t feel like expanding on those uncomfortable feelings so you entertain the idea. “We were about to be wiped out by a God from distant times. If ghosts are proof of anything, it’s that time is meaningless. It could very well end in a few hours.”

Egon doesn’t answer. You let out a sigh. “It’s irrational.”

“Perhaps,” he says after some time. “But fears usually are.”

“People usually fear tangible things, like, I don’t know, ghosts.”

“Ghosts aren’t material per se–”

You chuckle, looking at him. “I knew you’d say that.”

It’s complicated, this situation; how his literal words comfort you in unsuspected ways. It should be annoying, saddening even, to harbor such feelings for someone who lives miles away in his own head of equations, schematics and paranormal theories. You question your behavior, wondering if, in the end, he’s not just another new thing to fixate upon, if he’s not just another unanswered question on your long list of interrogations about life, the universe and everything. If that’s the case then, you can just move on.

“It’s late,” he states.

Perhaps, you can move on. “Yes, I’m gonna go.”

You gather your bag, breaking the fallacy of closeness you had. If the painful torpor your heart is in is any indication, is that it – whatever it is – goes beyond a fixation, but you don't want to confront any of this...

“Goodbye, Egon.”

…unless it’s to run away.

It’s a goodbye, you convince yourself, pushed closer by a disillusioned thought and a hint of desperation. On his face, you can read a plethora of interrogations, each for one flicker of a lid, for one shift of an eye; unique movements as his body stays right in place. It spurs you on, makes you cross the remaining distance between you. And as you place your hand on his arm to not buckle under the pressure, you give a single kiss; a furtive indulgence at the corner of his lips. Something that could be more, something that could be nothing.

You haven’t meant to meet his eyes, but it all seemed inescapable when he didn’t even close them in the first place while you hid safely behind the opaque screen of your lids. It’s confusion, likely a little bit of recoil… You burn brighter from a single kiss, a torch shining a little light on him too, but as adrenaline slips away, you’re faced with darkness again. There’s nothing you can fault him for as it’s your own two legs that took you there in the first place. It’s your own weak heart that pushed you up those stairs as everything else was dragged down by gravity.

You’re out of his apartment as quickly as you can. You know that if you abuse this kindness, your wider smile and warmer face will be the devil’s work; the consequence of pillaging of benevolence you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to stop. Even with genuine motions, his telltale beat will never follow yours, and even the strongest, wildest embers won’t alienate it faster. You will be a parched man facing a mirage, a moth to an ephemeral flame that will love everything until it’s consumed. But a flame doesn’t love back and love is a sin for the ones that feel it the most.

The next day, the sky is back to its usual color.

[toweroftickles]

DUNE: The Skin We Shed

(Paul x F! Reader Tickle Fic)

Requested by @scentedkittenperfection and far too late.

So, I’ve never done an xReader fic before. Or anything POV, for that matter. I’m a little concerned that it’s too over-the-top and comes across as silly. Sorry. Gave it my best shot.

Arrakis' sky is on fire. When the sun touches the horizon, everything is scorched a deep, haunting orange glow.

The great and heavy slab doorway of the Arrakeen palace groans as it slides open, scattering dust and sand to the floor below. Crystalline flecks of spice stab at the corners of your eyes, and the howling evening wind tears at your stillsuit until the antechamber door crashes down behind you, the rest of your guard troop...and Paul.

Paul Atreides. Son of the empire. You'd been casual friends with him for a while, since you started working in the house on Caladan, but he never noticed you as much as you noticed him.

Every time...every single time you travel together and head back to the guard dormitories, you end up staring at him, and it makes you want to smack yourself. Ugh....It's that stupid, dumb, hot (no! stop it!) thing he does where he pushes that wavy dark hair out of his eyes. Two weeks spent in his personal guard haven't made it better. If you don't stop, he's gonna notice you!

You're all packed together in the narrow stone halls among the sweat and the chatter and the leftover adrenaline cloud of a spice contact high. Takes forever for everyone to clear out of the common area and head to the suit containment lockers. Finally, you're all alone.

It's a circular room with a central sitting area, furnished with few brutalist chairs whose sharp right angles are barely helped by their fabric outer layers. The walls seemingly stretch to the interstellar roads high above, where the shadows swallow the ceiling and the glowglobes' skittish warmth can't reach them.

You unhook the moisture regulator from your nostrils and cough out the few drops of vapor left in the back of your throat. You hear the clicking of polished shoes behind you, and suddenly, there in the doorway is Paul, dressed for the evening and eating an apple.

"Oh, hey. I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" he asks. You're surprised, but remain stone-facedly blasé.

"Good evening, my lord. You're looking well. Spice harvesting is finally on track for the season."

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Paul?" As he says it, you smirk back, knowingly.

For someone of regal stature, he's always been surprisingly personable. Aloof, certainly, but not rude or dismissive. If you lived on Earth in the 21st century and understood what exactly a "movie" was, you'd have thought he was like an old film star.

"Who knows; after a few more tries I might get a handle on it."

Oh, come on...not again. The damn stillsuit is always so hard to take off. And now he’s watching you…of course. The primary water reservoir, encased in a leathery pouch over the stomach, strains as you yank on the harness around your waist.

Paul chuckles. "Do you need some help?"

“No, it’s…it’s fine,” you blurt out. Is he making fun of you? Does he just think it's kind of funny? No, stop thinking so hard about it. You keep yanking harder and harder but it just seems like the suit is getting tighter.

Wait...he's beside you. What's he doing?

“Here. Create some space…between your skin and the suit. You have to form a pocket that you can move a part of you around in,” Paul mutters. His hand glides into a slit between your waist and your hip…and your heart stops.

The Atreides heir’s fingers are spindly and pale…those of a cloistered rich kid who’s never felt an axe or saw wear down his hands. Mere seconds before, the water rushing down the tubes inside your second skin, from your neck to your feet, had felt cool and refreshing. But now that sensation is being drowned out in the rushing of your own blood, pumping at full speed up into your throbbing ears, staining your cheeks a bright red. Your face is hotter than the desert air outside.

No…no no no, he’s touching you…oh my god he’s touching you…

It's not just embarrassment. Every millisecond of grazing along your abdomen is killing you.

Fingers gliding across your skin...

You're shivering and squeaking...

All you want to do is beg him, plead with him not to touch you there...anything but that...

"D'AAAAAHH Haha!"

A loud shriek rockets its way up through your throat and bursts out of you. Your whole body contracts like an accordion and leaps away, beyond your control, from the gorgeous young prince.

Time is frozen. So are you. You can feel your heartbeat in your eyeballs. But just as you're considering stealing a bagful of spice, hopping a flight out to Geidi Prime and changing your identity to a mustachioed lobster farmer named Stephanie, Paul runs his fingers through the hair on the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. His eyes are averting yours.

"Heh. I didn't know you were that ticklish," Paul breaks the tension. Without another thought he plops himself down on a nearby couch, his off-white shirt melting into its identical fabric.

How can he be so casual during all this?!

"It's, um...it...I've gotta...go. Excuse me, my lord..." The sentence sprays out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you...here...let me make it up to you..." A wave of his hand. Beckoning you.

"No, that's...fine. Thank you."

"What, are you afraid I'm gonna tickle you again? Ha ha..." (That’s exactly what he’s gonna do, isn’t it?)

"Really my lord thank-you-for-your-assistance-butIcanhandlethismyself…” (Which staring eye makes you feel more queasy...Paul's, or the floating glowglobe nearby?)

"Hey come on, come back." // “I really need to - ” // “Please - ” // “It’s getting la- ”

Suddenly, Paul's voice rings out again...but it's different. The House heir speaks softly, yet the sound still thunders like the roar of a tiger.

"Come back."

Vvvvvmmmmmm.

Something is wrong. His voice reverberates in your temples long after the words have passed. Everything is dizzy and clouded. You feel a thumping tremor in your legs...they can't move. Why can't they move?!

Wait...there they go........back….toward him.

…What the…?!

It doesn't even feel like you're walking. It's more like strings are hooked into your thigh muscles and pulling you forward, puppeteering an uncomfortable shell that you're trapped inside.

Paul's eyebrow arches upward...he looks bemused...like he's surprised by your movement. He touches the corner of his mouth, uncertain. What did he do?! Was it on purpose?! Before you have time to think, you're already on the couch beside him, leaning back, as if in anticipation. Every tick of the clock, you can feel your chest heaving in and out as your breath gets heavier. Your lungs are full of water.

And then he reaches into your suit again.

Finding another pocket and pressing it outward, Paul yanks at your shoulders, and it’s punctuated with a low zipping noise. The ruffling leathery layers of the stillsuit scrape against your arms, dropping away like the skin of a snake. To your slight embarrassment, beneath the armor you’re clad only in a form-fitting tank top, tightly knitted for modesty only. Hanging down around your waist, the flayed-off suit torso forms a kind of morbid skirt. You feel like a half-peeled banana with blazing cheeks.

The twinkling eye of a desert rogue dissolves onto Paul's face. His mocking smirk teases you with coming calamity.

"N-no...no!" you squeal, grabbing defensively at a woven Bene Gesserit throw blanket nearby. But you know already it's too late.

Black silken netting smothers you. You're wrapped up in the sofa, pinned like a matador underneath a bull, with terrible fingers prodding and poking and squeezing every inch of your belly. No matter how much you struggle, or squirm, or scream with laughter, you can't escape...it's like each of your most deathly ticklish spots is bounding with eager joy right into this boy’s spidery hands.

Shit, he's smiling that stupid cocky smile at you - !

"HA-HA HA-Ha Haha! *heave* Ha-Ha Ha-Ha! St-st-ha...sta...pleahee...!!" you wail. The words are stuck inside your throat...they won't come out. Your stomach hurts too much from how hard you're laughing…

…and then it stops.

"Heh-Heh Heh...you really need to relax. You keep your guard up on the job, not when you’re with friends, right?" You can't see through your tightly-clenched eyelids, but he teasingly pats your shoulder and you can hear him stand to leave, abandoning you there with your limbs retreated and both hands covering your face.

You chat for a few more moments, but the words just fade into vacant humming. You might as well be deaf for all it matters. All you can do is squeak and nod in affirmation, until Paul wishes you a good evening and steps out of the soldier barracks. It all happens so fast...but maybe you’re just counting every second until he finally gets out.

Your colleagues gradually file back into the room, completely ignorant as to what's just happened. Whatever stupid subject these meatheaded guards are droning about, it doesn't register with you.

Why would Paul do that?! Does he just like messing with people? What if he knows how his presence twists up your insides? Oh, you knew this was going to happen; why can't you hide your glances from him?! Or, more terrifyingly...was he flirting? Exactly how much are you overthinking this?

Whew. Oh god…Relax...relax.

The thoughts rattle around in your skull long after you retreat into your room. Your pulse still hasn't slowed down. Even spice itself can't create this kind of nervous tingle in you.

....damn it, you're going to bed.

[fujoshifiona]

leons assistant (raihan x leon

tw: smut, semi public sex

working as the chairman's secretary was surprisingly easy, maybe Chairman Rose was a more demanding boss or Oleana was just intimidating because of how professional she was. maybe both

I did some extra training to prepare for the promotion from receptionist to secretary, it was pointless since it was not as hard as I expected but I'm not going to complain that a high paying is easier.

chairman Leon hasn't been a champion for some time and settled into the position as chairman with relative ease. at the start, it did take some time for Leon to understand what he signed up for but he got into the flow, i didn't even need to hold his hand much to teach him how things around the office worked

ever since Leon took over Rose it has been a calmer environment, probably because Leon is more relaxed with other people in the office, maybe it's that he is too busy to care, or maybe he doesn't understand enough to know what to get mad at or maybe he just a nice relaxed person

it might be one or the other but he certainly is relaxed enough to just let gym leaders barge in.

usually, gym leaders would have to make appointments as well when Rose was around. but Leon just lets them barge into his office without a care. it's probably because he's friends with most of them. milo just walks by the security guard like he wasn't there whenever he comes in. Melanie bothers to ask but one time the security guard said no and she just walked by him anyway. Kabu bothered to make appointments but when Leon sees him sitting in the waiting area, he tells him he can come in anytime he wants. They're nice for the most part, even piers weren't too much of a hassle. the problem is that one of them takes up a lot of his time

on any week there are 5 gym leader visits per week, that doesn't mean they visit a lot it just means raihan specifically visits every other day.

That's it, the hardest part of the job. leon is easy to handle it's just that raihan distracts him a lot. One time I walked in on Leon's bench pressing raihan and later that day walked in on raihan bench pressing Leon.

I'm pretty sure they are childhood friends so I guess that's why they're so comfortable but letting raihan sit in on meetings seems a bit far. nobody has complained, including the people actually in the meetings but he shouldn't be in there, right?

he does even just come in to give a coffee or say hello, whenever he comes in. It usually lasts between 3 hours or the rest of the day.

I don't care about what they're talking about in there but he would prefer it if he would stop distracting him, leon is rarely behind on work but when it happens I'm the one that has to deal with it.

I check the clock and it's almost 3 pm, I look over my desk to see if the contracts has meant to sign are not on my desk. I know he likes to read them over himself to not miss anything but there were only three and I gave them to him yesterday.

I had a doctor's appointment in the morning so I wasn't here for the first quarter of the day. but if it's taking this long, I'm guessing raihan is in his office with him.

the deadline is the end of the workday so I think I can justify barging in. I got up and walked towards the doors leading to his office. I knocked but didn't hear a voice giving permission. to come in. I hesitated for a bit, but I still think I can justify barging without permission.

I open the door. "Chairman, I don't mean to barge in but we have a deadline for the wi-"I stop myself

Leon isn't in the office, the massive office is fully open space so unless he is hiding behind his desk the office is empty

well, except for raihan sitting behind his desk like he was the one this office belonged to. I walk towards the desk. I would have celebrated in my head for guessing raihan was here if I wasnt now confused

"raihan, sir, can you tell me where Leon is, there is a deadline he must meet by the end of the day"

"hmm,… sorry don't know," raihan said wheeling forward a bit and leaning back into the chair

thinking back to it, I haven't seen Leon all day, I just assumed he was in his office but I sent people into his office for meetings and they came out later without anything to say. he has to have been in here if they didn't complain about him being missing.

I get close enough to the desk to see the papers on it, for some reason it's messy. Leon's organization is clean and simple so I'm now only more confused.

as I stare at the desk I see a colorful seal on a scattered but still stacked pile of paper. I recognise it as the one for the corporation that sent those contracts. I lean over to see that they have been signed, usually, he calls me in to collect them once he's done.

I would try to just collect them but the desk is too big for me not to do it awkwardly, i would have to climb over the desk just to reach it

"Sir, may you pass me those documents with the yellow and pink seal on them please" I asked holding out my hand at the simple ask.

raihan looks at me then looks down, then gets a weird smirk out of nowhere. is he looking at the confused dumb look on my face?

"Sure," raihan says, he leans up but then suddenly juts his hips forward to propel his chair forward. his waist hits the edge of the desk and he stays there. he picks up the documents and hands me them. his arms are long enough that he could have given me them without moving his chair.

okay? Isn't he known for being suave and charming, i don't know why he's being weird.

"thank you sir" I take the documents and leave the room, I rush a little as the silence is getting awkward

=---------------------=-=-=-=-==========-

the door shut behind Leon's assistant leaving raihan and Leon alone. raihan stared at the door making sure they were alone.

he pushed his chair back and looked under the desk.

"you're getting good at deepthroating Leon, I think you deserve a reward for managing to stay silence," raihan said

the sight under the desk was glorious. half-lidded eyes blocked out by tears streaming down his face. his pretty mouth stretched taut to accommodate the veiny coke can thick cock halfway in his mouth, helped by the drool and precum lubricating it into Leon's mouth. his hair pulled into a ponytail to let raihan see his ruined pretty face.

his naked flesh looked good, raihan hated how the marks he worked on weren't that visible under the desk

raihan pulled out by pushing the Wheely chair backwards, making sure to do it as slowly as he could to see Leon sit still as each inch left Leon's mouth. the head went out with a pop and commenced Leon gasping for air.

raihan wrapped his hand around his and slowly jerked it, loving the way Leon's eyes focused on the meat in front of him.

Leon huffed for a few more seconds before saying

"i want your cock back in my ass," Leon took a moment to breathe again "You know what to do"

[a-tale-never-told]

An Apology.

//Greetings, everyone. I completely understand what you might be thinking at this moment, upon looking at this title. You might be thinking "Is he going to repeat another self-deprecating rant about his insecurities about writing and venting on the blog?". To that commonly referred question, the answer is actually no, surprisingly.

//You see, over since yesterday night, I finally came to a realization of just how damaging my own actions were to this entire story blog, and how much of an absolutely selfish asshole I'd become within the past few weeks, and I am greatly ashamed of my behavior towards all of you and how I treated you all during this blog. That was wholeheartedly never the intention to make you all feel uncomfortable with my own mental health issues and anxiety and stress issues, while also placing the burdens of my self-deprecation on you all, especially those who are dealing with other mental health issues themselves.

//Yesterday, I came to a realization of the numerous key reasons why I end up going on these long, venting rants about my writing qualities and why multiple people have felt put off by the story, and I came to a conclusion: It wasn't just the writing quality, but my constant venting and self-deprecation over the issues of my personal life and my rather embarrassing ways on how to handle my depression, as well as several other factors that we'll get into later.

//I just want to elaborate a bit on why I acted this way in particular and why I'm absolutely terrified of my own insecurities: I fear being abandoned in life, both with my loved ones and with my friends, hence why I get constantly paranoid whenever I trust or talk to someone because you never can officially confirm if you can place your absolute trust and faith in that person, even your own closest loved ones. Throughout my entire life, I've been betrayed, manipulated, lied to, and humiliated by those that I considered close to me in my childhood, with my family being the only ones I could definitely trust.

//While I did make a few friendships back then, I certainly wouldn't call it a friendship as we often fought with one another, then we officially made up, and then we had another argument again, and the cycle repeats itself. I honestly never truly felt what it feels like to even have a friendship with another person or human being, as I've never really experienced any true bonds with others. Most of the time, I'd often get shamed, bullied, and harassed by my fellow classmates for the most ridiculous of reasons, and I, unfortunately, had to take it like it was completely normal, even when I tried to give those people the benefit of the doubt and repair our relationships.

//These types of mental behavior that I exhibit are something that I think most of you are familiar with, Social anxiety disorder. Social anxiety disorder is essentially characterized by sentiments of fear and anxiety in social situations, with blushing, trembling, and nausea, as well as having an overwhelming fear of humiliation and embarrassment. When you have that disorder, you start to feel anxious about how people might judge you or if they treat you with scrutiny whenever you interact with them, thus leading you to fear almost any social interaction, especially things like dates or talking to random strangers.

//I'm not saying this as an excuse for my self-depreciation and venting posts, because there are absolutely zero tolerable excuses for that, but it does offer a rationale or explanation as to why I become so mentally unstable to begin with because I never truly had any form of positive interaction with a human being outside of my family, and it wasn't untill this year where I try to overcome my disorder and tried to socialize more with others, though the mental and cognitive social issues still exist. It's just the fact that I get extremely afraid of other people abandoning me and leaving me alone to rot away, so that's why I become extremely paranoid whenever I see others.

//Another main issue is actually what Mod Bubbles pointed out in our conversation together on DMs: Hormonal teen angst. It's no official secret that we, as teenagers, tend to have those periods in life when we often like to complain and beat ourselves up for every single mistake we make in our lives. That's unfortunately part of the development process of becoming a teenager, and the ways I handled it were... less than splendid to say the absolute least, if the vent posts were any indication to go by.

//And speaking of the vent posts, I finally realized that I officially need to stop making these posts, as not only do they add endless filler to the entire blog, but I realized that it's starting to genuinely make all of you rather uncomfortable with how much I self-deprecate and rant about my insecurities towards a group of strangers and burden the rest of you with my own issues, which is definitely not what I wanted to do, but that might officially stem from another problem that I have.

//It's no secret that I've stated countless times that I'm insecure about my own writing, and how I've been writing this arc, while also being mostly a little jealous of the successes of The New Future and especially A Student Out Of Time, which is incredibly ironic when you consider I owe a lot of the inspiration for this blog to ASOOT and his storytelling, and these feelings of inadequacy and jealousy stem all the way back to my younger years, where I would feel jealous that no matter how much effort and hard work I put, I wouldn't become famous as my other classmates, who essentially became popular due to the growing trends of the late 2010s era. Granted, I had zero idea as to what those societal norms were, but it still infuriated me to see these lazy, selfish, bullies become so well respected, while someone like myself had to bear the brunt of their torment.

//Obviously, Bubbles and Freeze are most certainly not those kinds of people, and I respect them tremendously for being talented in their writing skills, but that feeling of jealousy from my middle school years hasn't really shaken off, and whenever I see an like on those two blogs and look at myself, I always return to those years back in middle school, and that instinct to let out my anger of years of being discarded and treated horribly often comes up.

//However, I have now come to a realization that I cannot continue living my life like this, to constantly be in this never-ending cycle of self-loathing and hatred, as this obviously benefits nobody in the end, and only serves to create more hardship for everyone in this space, and making myself look uncaring towards your feelings and acting like an entitled, narcissistic asshole, which is the complete opposite of what I want to convey.

//So I've decided on a new way to constantly improve my behavior and change for the better, and that's the fact that I will do my hardest to improve myself as a person and a human being. Throughout all of this, I have been discarding your attempts to help me with my mental issues, foolishly thinking that I had it all under control when it had become clear to every one of you that I didn't. And I realize that by continuing this downward spiral of self-hatred and frustration, I'm ending up unintentionally hurting the ones who are trying to help me get better, which was not even the intention at all, and I honestly feel tremendously guilty for doing so.

//If there's any form of advice that is relevant to this entire situation that I need to take, it's that I need to be kind towards myself and others. That means that I'll completely devote myself to giving myself time as well as others the time to reflect and cope with their own mental issues, as well as not constantly thinking poorly of anyone for small things, giving you guys space, showing compassion more frequently, and trying to show you all that I'm not some heartless weirdo that doesn't value your insightful advice on things.

//Two sayings resonate with me throughout this entire time I've been writing this post: "You have to love yourself before you can love someone else" and "Actions speak louder than words", both of which are very important to me not only for my mentality but for my own genuine belief as a person, that we should let our own actions, moral or immoral, speak for ourselves rather than just meaningless, hollow words. It goes a long way in improving relationships with other people, and I feel as if I have been constantly repeating the same phrases and promising that I'm going to better myself as a person without actually showing it. That's going to change, starting from this post onward.

//From now on, I take a personal vow to endlessly work and improve myself as a better human being and a better moderator as well, always trying to take your valuable advice at heart, trying to listen to whatever issues you might have, and constantly offer my advice and support to anyone that needs it here, being far more compassionate and understanding of any problems that you guys have, giving you the time and space whenever you need it, and the most valuable and important life lesson of all is to learn to love myself and stop burdening myself and others with my own socialization issues and mental problems.

//I just want to thank everyone who has constantly stuck around throughout this entire journey, despite my constant venting and ranting about my insecurities and childhood issues. A massive shoutout to people like @freezethunder @creepercraftguy @poisonrozen and especially @a-student-out-of-time for helping me and trying to get me out of those constant depressive stages, always being understanding of my problems, and trying to give valuable advice to heal my mental state. You all are amazing people, truly, and you don't know how much your comments and insightful ways of being compassionate towards others mean to me.

//I absolutely hold full accountability and responsibility for my actions, as I believe that my way of handling the situation was idiotic and at worst, hurting the rest of the fanbase. My sincerest apologies if this post was obviously not what you were all expecting from me today, as I originally never planned to make this today, but rather tomorrow once I finished the Kazuichi asks. But I could no longer put my own mental well-being and the well-being of others around me with my constant self-loathing and endless venting and rants about my failures as a writer. Remember that mental well-being always comes first, and for such a year that was absolutely stress-inducing and nerve-wracking on my physical and mental state in 2023, I felt as if I needed to address this issue because this type of selfish, irresponsible behavior needed to stop at some point, and it's better that I address all of this in one single post rather than let this become a gigantic issue later on.

//I hope you all can accept my most sincere and honest apology, from the bottom of my heart. But I know that these words don't mean anything if I can't show that I've changed and put hard work and effort into bettering myself, and I'm making that commitment to change, starting now!

//This is Mod Sam from A Tale Never Told, signing out. Have a wonderful rest of your afternoon, everyone!.

[agonizedembrace]

"Last thing for today…let's just get through this and then we can go home and relax…" Robin grumbled to himself as he exhaustedly made his way towards Evelynn's office, paying little attention any sounds coming from inside as he barely even knocked before pushing the door open with his hip.

"Miss Evelynn I have the reports, Abel wants-"

A momentary pause fell across the office as he witnessed his boss roughly splayed across her desk with her girlfriend plastered between her legs, fluffy bangs poking up from the curve of Evelynn's thighs. Robin watched for a moment before his mind settled and he spoke once more, "Good evening Miss Akali." and he slowly took his seat, opening the folders as if this were a semi-regular occurance.

I've worked on this for a week. I'm finishing it. One way…or another.

"We need to discuss the purchases made on 7/19 as well as 7/21 - they're showing in Abel's records but not our own..I imagine it was that intern ah…what was her name? Chelsea? Whatever--- she may have not been focusing and misplaced our receipt information, but we need to find out where this charge is coming from."

The assistant pushed a lock of white hair behind his ear as he finally peered back up and sighed,

"At least let her breathe, Miss Evelynn."

The surprise visit from Akali makes the long day Evelynn's had that much better.

Because really, between the unexpected surcharges hitting the business' account and earning an (as much as she loathes to admit, rightful) earful from Abel -- her day's been less than pleasant. Sure, she dropped the annoying part of the task off to Robin who surprisingly took it well, she had far more important things to handle.

Surprisingly enough, having Akali eat her out was not on the agenda, yet she's certainly not one to complain. It is a relief she's been unknowingly seeking, letting her hands make quick work of undoing the rapper's messy ponytail as her moans become more frequent. Any passerby should least catch a clue to what is happening within her office walls.

A long moan is about to burst from her lips just as her office door opens, and enters none other than her assistant, Robin. There's a wash of dread that floods her, hands stalling as golden hues widen momentarily at what's absolutely occurring at this very moment. The matter becomes certainly more dire as Akali continues, either oblivious or not caring to the very fact someone's intruded their private moment.

All Evelynn can do is offer Robin a languid blink, half lidded as her mind is scrambling to catch up in the moment. Difficult, as her girlfriend's efforts seem to increase tenfold at the way she tenses her thighs. It takes her a moment, a long and heavy breath as she finally parts her lips. "Robin."

Said so thin, barely restraining a whine as she tilts her head expectantly to the folder in his hands. Lashers are quick to unfoil from her back, yet instead of reaching for him they begin coiling around Akali's midsection. "It... would make sense, if an intern--" a pause, the briefest flush to her cheeks as there's a growl against her pelvis. "Constructed those purchases, nor were they authorized by any personal."

Blinking back at him, she glances down to where Akali still remains, ever hard at work, and then back to Robin. Sure, she could grant her lover breathing space, and at the same time give Robin an eyeful at the same time — not that he (unfortunately) hasn’t seen anything before. With a bite to her lip, and hard, she relents and gently pulls her girlfriend up at the same time.

Sure, each are pouting at the lack of contact but Evelynn refuses to let Robin see her release.

As Akali growls again, this time more audible before learning forward to place chaste kisses along her stomach, Evelynn sighs. “Find whatever the fuck her name is, and send her my way.” she commands, one hand returning to shift through messy locks of blonde and black. “I’ll be sure these charges don’t happen again.”

There’s a slight pause, a glance to the door.

“Knock next time, won’t you darling?”

[tvitr]

A Little Treat

Part One

Words: 3,012

Pairings: Grusha/Katy

Synopsis: On the morning of her divorce, Katy finds herself daydreaming about her handsome colleague. On a spur of the moment, she invites him back to her place later that evening.

AO3 Version

Well.

That was that then.

It certainly had been nice whilst it lasted, Hell, had you asked her ten years ago how she thought this would pan out, she'd have said they'd be together forever. Till death do us part and all that.

But of course, nothing ever ran smoothly, and here she was now, three years after it all started going wrong.

Divorced.

She’d secured the day off from her gym work, Geeta had honestly been surprisingly understanding of the whole situation, but the bakery still needed to be tended to. Not that it bothered her much; baking always helped her relieve stress, it’s why she’d pursued it as a career after all, and usually she’d cherish a day where she wouldn’t be dragged to the gym every half hour...

Katy just wished today’s circumstances were... different.

Today was at least busy enough to semi-distract her. Honestly, it was busy to the point that she’d have taken time off from the gym regardless. They’d acquired a backlog of orders somehow (“somehow”, she tried to convince herself this wasn’t down to her absent mental state recently), and though it wasn't enough to affect their reputation, it was certainly enough to ensure she'd be cutting her breaks short.

She'd decided to man the tills today, just in case any of their customers today decided to get ratty over their order being delayed, or the service being slow. It was not her favourite job, honestly it was probably nobody's favourite job, but she'd rather take the heat for any shortcomings than make any of her employees handle it. After all, they were perfectly capable of manning the kitchen without her, and most of them were talented bakers in their own right anyway. She was merely the face of the business.

Katy was good at diffusing customer rage anyway, she didn't know how but they always seemed to calm down the moment she stepped onto the scene. Perhaps it was her minor celebrity status, she didn't know. But it was useful, at least.

Thankfully she hadn't had to exercise her special talent today. Despite their backlog and the ever-growing queue at the till, everyone she’d dealt with thus far had been perfectly civil. None of the staff had said anything for fear of jinxing the calm, but the relief in the air was tangible.

“Who’s next?”

To her surprise, a familiar face stepped forward. "Hi, I'm here to pick up-" His voice trailed off, something apparently interrupting his thoughts.

She smiled. "Good afternoon, Grusha."

She could almost see him reeling in his wayward thoughts. "Is it bad I completely forgot you worked here?"

"One of those days, huh?"

"Not even, took today off because I had some stuff to do and-" He ruffled his hair loose from its ponytail. “Guess it’s just been a long week. Lots to do, you know?”

“Yeah it’s been… it’s been long for me too.” She snapped herself back to reality before she got too lost. Despite being colleagues, Grusha was still a customer at the end of the day. She couldn't quite justify burdening him with her life issues. At least, not here anyway. “Anyhoo, your order’s under Ibáñez right?”

“Wouldn’t be under anything else.”

Perhaps it was down to him having been the first real celebrity she’d ever baked an order for, or perhaps it was just down to his uncommon name, but she’d always been able to remember every order she’d made under the name Ibáñez. She could still remember that first order, from his parents it seemed, to celebrate him being selected for the Paldean team for that year’s Winter Bellic Games. From then on, she’d apparently been his family’s go-to bakery, to the point she knew the names and birthdays of his parents and two siblings, his parent’s wedding anniversary, that his older brother was now pursuing an acting career in Galar, that his sister had recently graduated college…

It was a nice feeling, having a well-known regular, and it had certainly helped with publicity back in those early days of the business. Perhaps she should surprise him with a thank-you cake sometime. She’d baked enough orders for him now to know what he liked after all.

“So who’s this for?” She dropped the cake box onto the counter, readying the PIN machine. After all, it wasn't anybody's birthday soon, and his sister had picked up the anniversary cake last month-

“Oh, it’s just something for my old coach. It's his fifthtieth soon, thought I might surprise him."

“I see!” Come to think of it, he’d never ordered something for his coach before. Honestly she was surprised he’d remained in touch, though admittedly she’d never been the sporting type. Perhaps it was common to remain in touch after one's retirement, though something told her it was probably best not to pry. “Just tap your card there-”

As he rooted in his pockets for his card, Katy felt herself daydreaming again. It seemed odd to think about, but she'd never paid attention to how… fit Grusha was. She'd seen him out of his winter sports garb many a time at League meetings or nights out, and of course on any official League trips, but she'd never properly… studied his physique. He was beautifully built, with a broad, muscular chest that slimmed into a trim waist, and by God his arms were massive. And his face! Oh he had such a pretty face; big, long-lashed eyes, high cheekbones, and plush lips, gosh, what a wonderful little specimen of a man he was. Pretty and extremely fit, such a rare combination indeed!

What would it be like… to kiss those plush little lips? How would it feel if he held her tight with those big, powerful arms? What if they… what if they…

I can now.

I'm single.

The very thought sent a shiver through her. Her, and him! She knew women who'd kill to even be around him as much as she was, let alone able to spend a night with him-

… Did she really want to do that? He was younger than her after all, she didn't know by what margin, but would he be… up for it with an old divorcee like her? Should she risk him turning her down?

You won't know if you don't try.

That was true.

You deserve it.

That was also true. These past few years had been awfully hard for her after all.

Perhaps she was due… a little treat tonight?

"Your card machine's broke."

Katy jolted back to reality, shooing her daydream away (for time being). "Sorry it's been funny with me all day, uh-" Customer handling mode engaged. "Do you have cash?"

He looked around, raising his arm to point towards the nearby PokéCentre. "Not on me, no, but I saw a cash machine on my way-"

An idea suddenly hit her. "Oh, our till’s not working either, I know it's been an absolute nightmare all morning, are you free later by any chance?"

Grusha side-eyed the clerk next to her, apparently working the till with no problem. "I mean, I was going to hit the gym when I got back home, but after that-"

"Oh perfect, so you'll be free then?"

He shrugged. "I guess so?"

"Good, call back later. You know my address I’m sure." She sent him off with a playful wink.

***

What have I done.

Katy hadn't known what had come over her earlier, honestly. Inviting a colleague over! Thank goodness she hadn't said anything suggestive to him, she might’ve winked (oh God, did she really wink at him?), but she could at least hope he didn't see that.

Maybe he wouldn't even show up. Maybe he'd text her and say it's too much hassle and he'd just send her the money instead. She should've asked him to do that, really. In fact, she should probably just message him now, save him the trouble of coming all the way down to Cortondo just to hand over whatever he owed her. How much did he even owe her anyway? She hadn't taken note. It was too late to go find the receipt now.

Or maybe he would show up, and she could just take the money and send him home. It was an awful long way for him sure, but she was fairly certain he had a solo fliers licence, and she knew he had that Altaria, hopefully it wouldn't be too much bother for him, or hopefully he wouldn't even bother coming-

There was a buzz from the hallway.

Now or never.

She held her breath as she walked to the door. Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe it was her neighbour, wanting to borrow some sugar. Maybe it was a delivery guy, knocking on the wrong door. Maybe it was the boy next door, asking if he could retrieve his football from her garden again. Maybe it was-

She opened the door.

Grusha stood on the porch, still sweating and flushed from his evening workout. Or maybe he'd just showered, she didn't know. Either way, his shirt clung to his frame, showing off his chiselled muscles, and his long hair was damp and held back in a messier than usual ponytail. A sports bag was slung over his shoulder.

"Came here straight after the gym. The human gym I mean, not the-" He took a deep breath and laughed breathlessly, hand running through his hair, tousling it further. "You know what I mean."

Katy didn't know how, but somehow he was even more attractive than he was earlier. It was probably the shirt, the way it hugged his frame, showing off his toned body underneath. Or maybe it was the fact he'd been working out, how he glistened with sweat in the evening sun. She wondered how he would smell right now, or even how his skin would taste, so warm and salty, like a summer's sea breeze-

She shooed her thoughts away, for now. "Do you want to come in for a bit? You're looking very flushed."

He seemed to think for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah, that would be… that would be nice."

He stepped in, dropping his bag by the door with a loud thud. Following the bag to the floor, her eyes passed over his lower half; his ass and thighs were currently shrouded by his shorts, but if his calves were anything to go by…

“Sorry, my shoulders are aching-” He flexed his glorious arms and back with a satisfying series of clicks before hoisting his bag up again.

Katy mentally shook herself to avoid staring for too long. Lord knew she'd die if he caught her ogling. “The kitchen’s just over there, make yourself at home.”

As she watched him enter the kitchen, and heard his bag thud down a second time, she took the time alone to gather her thoughts once again. Was she doing this or not? How did she even go about asking him? Should she test the water first? What if he was already taken? Goodness, she hadn't even thought of that-

"Katy? Where are you?"

"Just having an issue with the door, I'll be with you in a second." She slammed it a few times, fiddling with the lock and handle for extra effect.

“Need any help?”

“Nope, it’s fine.” With one last (hopefully convincing) slam, she hurried over to the threshold of the kitchen door where he'd disappeared to.

Here we go.

Katy took a deep breath, thankful that Grusha at least had his back to her right now. That at least gave her time to plan her next move. Perhaps she should’ve put something nicer on? Or even showered?

It doesn’t matter now, just go for it.

She sauntered into the kitchen. He didn't seem to notice it, instead rooting around in his pockets. "So how much do I owe you?"

"Oh, nothing actually." She tugged at the buttons on her dress, trying to loosen them to flaunt some cleavage before realising they were purely decorative. "Though you could say I could use a little…"

Goodness, what was the word?

"Fun, tonight." Yeah, that was it! Fun. A bit of fun. Just a bit of fun. A nice bit of-

“What?” To her mild horror, Grusha was staring at her with his mouth slightly agape and a look of abject confusion on his face. “Katy, what are you talking about…?”

Oh no.

“I mean you can…” Her nervous hands fumbled with her braid, trying to release it with no success. “Pay me in other ways, perhaps?”

The staring continued. "No offence, but have you been drinking? You're being… weird."

“Baby, I’m stone cold sober.” She tried to hoist her leg up onto the countertop, before realising that it was both far too high, and that her skirt couldn’t stretch enough for it.

It was safe to say Grusha was looking veritably dumbfounded by this point. "Listen, how about I just give you the money and leave, I promise I won't tell Geeta about this. Swear on my Cetoddle’s life."

"Don't you get it?” She marched over, trying to corner him in his chair before again realising her skirt wouldn’t allow the stretch. “I want to make love to you, I’ve been thinking about it all day, I don’t know how else to say it so I might as well just be upfront about, I… I…"

An aggressively awkward silence fell between them as the bemused stare off continued. No, no, no-

A loud sigh. “... Alright, where’s Iono?”

Katy blinked. “Wha-”

“She’s set you up to this, right? This is all part of a prank for her channel?”

“I don’t under-”

“Okay so…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, letting out another, more annoyed, sigh. “This is a bit embarrassing, but one time when we were watching you battle and you said something like, ‘oh, let me knead you into submission’, and I said to myself ‘man I wish she’d knead me into submission’, and I thought I was being quiet but it turns out Iono heard me because of course she did, and ever since then she’s basically… blackmailed me by saying she’ll tell you I said that if I don’t give an interview on her channel.”

He took a deep breath, ruffling his hair till the tie keeping his ponytail in place was only clinging onto a few stray locks and static. “So where is she? She's gotta be hiding somewhere right? Ready to jump out and embarrass me, yeah?”

Katy stumbled back, hand behind her reaching for a countertop which never came. He thought this was a joke. He thought she was leading him on for a joke. She should probably play along, save her all that embarrassment, act like Iono was hiding in her pantry or something, after all if word of this got out, then her gym job and even her patisserie could be in jeopardy, and-

"Hey, you alri- Hey!” She heard him bound over, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders and holding her steady, those big eyes of his looking deep into her with an unusual amount of concern for his usually miserable face. "Man, are you okay? You've been acting real weird since I got here."

“Yeah, I-I’m fine.” The room felt like it was spinning, and she teetered even in his firm grip. “I’ve just…. I’m just…”

“Hey, easy, easy…” He guided her to the chair he’d been sitting on, kneeling down next to her and taking her hand. “Just breathe, okay? I don’t know what to do if you faint or something.”

"I'm not going to faint, I promise." She said that with a lot of confidence for someone who felt like she was leaning sideways. "It's just… I've really embarrassed myself here, haven’t I? Inviting you out here for no reason and giving you all that, and… and now you think it was all just a joke and I’m leading you on and-”

“Breathe, breathe...” A hand landed gently on her back, rubbing a circle in between her shoulders, whilst his other hand gave hers a reassuring squeeze. “Sorry, I don’t really know what else to say, just like… try to stay calm. I won’t tell anyone about this. I promise.”

"Okay." Something in his voice told her he was being sincere. That was one weight off her mind at least, and her breathing began to slow to a less erratic pace. "Okay."

"Good, good." With one last affectionate pat on her back, he stood up, hands diving into his pockets. "So uh… why did you invite me here anyway? Don’t say it was for the cake because I know your cash till was working earlier."

Katy dried her eyes “Guess I have to come clean then, eh?”

“Did you really invite me down here for… you know…” He pumped his hips jokingly, eyebrows bobbing. That got a weak laugh out of her at least.

A deep breath. Just admit it. "Yes. I did."

He paused. "Huh. Never knew you thought about me that way. I mean, I'm not offended or anything but still, it's surprising."

“It was… a spur of the moment thing." Goodness, what a situation this was. At least he wasn’t going to blab about this. “It’s been really, really rough for me recently what with the divorce and all, and I saw you earlier when you came by the bakery, and I thought I'd maybe treat myself to-"

She realised too late how that sounded. “Oh, goodness, I’m so sorry, you must think I’m such an old-”

“Pft, don't worry about it. I've heard worse. Trust me." He bit his lip, swaying on his heel. "So… you still down? It's okay if you're not, I can just go home."

Katy thought for a moment. "Are you?"

Grusha raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Weren’t you paying attention earlier?"

Oh no. "What... what do you mean?"

He leaned in close, lips barely gracing her ear. "I've fantasised about making out with you for a long time."

[kmp78]

« In fact, the 2015 Rola Incident was the 1st time he threatened he would quit socials and gradually after that, he kinda did! 🤷🏼‍♀️ »

What happened ? 🍿

The bestest times ever... 😂

We have to begin with the fall of 2014 when SL was hooking up with IT for their 1st round.

She of course freeloaded with him on several Carnivores gigs, and he infamously skipped a paid M&G in Vegas just so he could fuck around with her instead... 🙄

Anyway, in September they suddenly split, perhaps because Mars was going on a South American tour and he didn't want her along cos he had "other business" to "do" down there, who knows... 🤷🏼‍♀️

Whatever the reason, it was clear that HE ditched her because she reeeeeaaally was not happy about it and took some low blows on socials. 👀

After a while she calmed down and started running around other famous dudes, and actually started dating Simon Rex somewhat seriously. He certainly was totally gaga over her, as he gushed on his socials about her. 💕

However, our dear echeloopers who had (surprisingly!) hated her guts from Day 1 could not let her go, and right around New Years 2015 some South American eches decided to pull a prank on her on Twitter.

They started sending her messages like "My name is Rola, I love you Kirstina! Can you say "I love Rola"?" etc.

She of course didn't know wtf was up, and replied "I love Rola" back.

And this is the part where it's appropriate to reveal that Rola is not so much a name as it is a slang word for COCK. 😶

Which obvs means that with her reply she was saying that she loves... that. 🍆🤦🏼‍♀️

Well, when she figured out that she had been bamboozled, she completely flew off the handle and exploded. 👀

"I'm not dating your Boy Crush/Creepy Obsession any more"

Oh except she DID immediately dial him up again and cried to him about how she was being bullied, and then it was HIS turn to start ranting on Twitter! 👀

And as it turned out, Captain Save-A-Ho over here wasn't just offering her emotional support during this traumatic time!

Oh no, he decided to offer his full services again as merely days after that Twitter shit went down, guess who were suddenly vacaying together in Breckenridge?! 🤷🏼‍♀️

Poor lovelorn Simon got dumped faster than Thinnie from last summer's Med cruise! 👋

Guess his subpar height was no longer an issue then... 🤷🏼‍♀️

Emotional growth, eh? 🧘🏼‍♀️

Mmmmm not so much.

She went right into trolling mode again...

... and then when the Russian tour began in March 2015 is when she started raining down fire and brimstone on our poor fandom with the announcement that...

... she was being lugged along. 😭😭😭😳

The fandom hated every minute of it, and JL reeeeeeeally hated every minute of it (😂), and to the surprise of absolutely no one about 2 weeks into the tour it all exploded into atoms again and she (and her bro) started ranting on Twitter about his "irrelevant band" and left Russia in a huff. 😤

Later she posted this:

Welp. 🤷🏼‍♀️

Sorry I digressed a bit... 😂

But that whole saga has to be explained from Day 1 to Day End to give readers the full experience! 😂😬

[moriwanderer]

Okazaki, Week 1

Week 1 complete! When I first arrived, I was pretty ok with Hiragana and could barely make out Katakana. By the end of the first week... well, I can read Hiragana pretty well! That said, I've learned a decent amount of vocabulary and learned how to ask questions when I don't understand something, so that's a plus. We are using the Marugoto level A1 book and we're up to section 7 in it now. Yesterday we had an "interview" that felt more like a conversation... just in Japanese. And I feel like I did pretty well, so that's good! I think?

The above picture is of a park I get to walk through twice a day! Honestly it's not much more than a rainwater catchment pond, but in Japan they've stocked it with koi and planted cherry trees around a walking path they've built around it. In the states, it'd basically have a big chain-link fence blocking people from getting close. I've noticed that most of the houses around also have extremely well-manicured gardens in very, very small spaces featuring a plethora of plant types. I haven't really seen much in the way of lawns at all, although vacant lots certainly fill with grasses and weeds pretty rapidly.

I've been utilizing the corner "konbini" (convenience store) for dinners and such. For lunches, there's a regular grocery store nearly in spitting distance of Yamasa, so I've been picking up onigiri (jelly donuts) there. Honestly, even at 24hr konbinis, things are surprisingly cheap here. I've also now checked out not one, but two(!) multi-story malls nearby and... well, I think I've come to the conclusion that if you pay people a living wage and then some, they'll have money in their pockets that they can then use to purchase nifty things they actually want. In the states, malls are a dying breed, and everyone blames online retail. I don't think that's the real problem.

This evening I decided to take a short hike up to a nearby observation deck... thing. Kyogamine Tenbodai, per the maps of Google anyway. It's atop the closest foothill of a mountain chain. I'm still tryina get used to how time works here. It's not as bad as when I was in Maine and the sun thought it was a good idea to rise at 4 in the morning, but it's still like 2 hours off of what I'm used to. By the time I got to the park, it was already getting dark. And I still had way too many stairs to climb.

But climb them I did. And climb. And climb. By the time I got to the top, I was drenched in sweat. But it was so totally worth it. Why? Well, watch the video! Sorry that the quality isn't the best, phone cameras don't handle the dark well. Then, I got to climb back down. All those so many much stairs.

Worth it? Most def.

See ya' on the flipside!

[mintjeru]

chiluc angel au my beloved

open for better quality | no reposts | ID under the cut

[Image description: Two pages of traditional sketches. One page is of angel Diluc's design and the other is of civilian Childe's design. Diluc's halos, shirt cuffs, and veil are drawn in further detail. Childe's outfit under his jacket is shown. Both pages show front and back views of the characters' designs.]

[ageoffeet]

My Heart, Your Hands - A Jake Kiszka Fic

A/N: So I'm going to be adding parts to this and I'm honestly excited to see where it'll go! I've had this idea for a while and I'm finally writing in down. This first part doesn't contain a whole lot of gvf, it's more of an introduction of what's to come.

synopsis: slow burner fic with Jake Kiszka x fem!reader. Greta Van Fleet invites your band to open for them on tour.

word count: 1.2k (short and sweet to start off)

content warning: mentions of alcohol, cussing, brief mentions of sex, sibling bickering.

taglist: @way-to-go-lad @flowervanfleet (if you want me to add or unadd you from my taglist just let me know!)

Your fingers plucked the strings of your bright yellow bass and your foot tapped along to the notes that came pouring out of the amp.

"Hey, can you help with my drum set?" Jack sets down his snare and walks away, not giving you a chance to answer. Not your fault he has to put his set together every gig, especially when he acted like an ass in the van on the way here. You reluctantly swing your bass strap over your head and set your pride and joy on the stand.

"Y/N!"

"Oh my god, I'm coming!" You set off into a half jog towards the back exit where you parked the van. Miles gives you an equally frustrated look and continues helping Jack lug the pieces of his set out of the back of the van.

You just landed in Nashville, the last stop on your little America tour. This little band you started with your brother (Jack) and mutual friend (Miles) really started taking off after Miles graduated from high school so you all planned a "tour" which was more of a road trip with gigs at bars along the way. It had gone surprisingly well so far with more and more followers finding your socials and Spotify every week.

"Hey, are you guys MHYH?" You look toward the voice at the same time as your bandmates and nod. You guys thought your band’s name was cool but people hardly ever said the full name, preferring to use the acronym instead.

"Yeah, you coming to watch the show?" Miles turns away from Jack handing him another part of the drum kit to engage with the olive skinned girl standing at the opening of the alley.

"For sure! I was wondering if I could request a song of yours that might not be on your setlist." Miles smiles and walks away from Jack and I and towards the pretty girl. Jack lets out a loud huff and rolls his eyes at Miles' back.

"Fuck boy," he mutters. You laugh at his annoyance and pick up where Miles left, grabbing cymbals and stands and bringing them inside.

"I'm serious. He better be back in time for sound check." You set down what you're holding and turn towards Jack.

"You're just jealous you couldn't go talk to her first."

"Well I was crouched in the back of the van like a cave man." Jack was used to getting all the girls since Miles had been in a serious relationship but in the past month, things went sour between Miles and Katie so now Jack had some competition.

"I'm sure there will be plenty more at the show you can talk to." As much as Jack's banter was entertaining you, you couldn't get the sad thought out of your mind that this was your last show on this tour. With all the money you guys spent on gas and food, you barely broke even with tips and your share of ticket profits. It would be a while before you guys could afford to do this again.

Instead of watching Jack put together his drum kit, you decide to pick up your bass again and start plucking out the beginning notes of your most recent song, singing along in your head.

“I told you I had to leave this town

heaven knows you'll be alright

need to get away from here

start focusing on my own life”

"So Denim Dreams has been requested," Miles hopped up onto the small stage and started taking his guitar out of its case.

"Ew dude," Jack pauses setting up his snare to reply. "That's our worst fucking song."

Miles just shrugs with a ghost of a smile on his face and Jack sighs.

"If you make me play that song you better at least be getting laid tonight." You laugh at the two boys and turn to face them fully.

"We need to make our setlist." The three of you always waited right before a show to make the setlist but with thirty minutes to go before the doors opened, you were pushing it tonight.

"Fuck, I forgot we didn't do that yet. Y/N you're the lead singer, it's your job." You roll your eyes and grab your phone from your back pocket to make an impromptu setlist in your notes app.

"Make sure Denim Dreams makes it on there for our beloved fans," Jack replies, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. Miles flips him off and they both laugh at their bickering.

After you're happy with how the setlist looks, you pass your phone to Jack and then Miles to get their approval.

"Looks good, y/nic." Miles goes quiet for a moment. "Let's make this a show to remember, it'll probably be a while before we get to be on a stage again." You note the sad look in his green eyes and solemnly nod your head in response.

Your manager, aka another one of your mutual friends with a degree in business, hops on the crowded stage and hands you a beer.

"Thanks, Kay." After promptly taking a long gulp from the cold bottle, you give her a smile. She was the first one to suggest you guys needing a manager and she handled everything off of the stage, which you were very thankful for.

Miles motions for you to pass the bottle to him and you do so, earning a grossed out look from Jack. He wasn't much of a drinker, but what he didn't indulge in alcohol-wise he certainly made up for in dope.

"You guys got the setlist and everything?" Kay continues to take the bottle from Miles and chugs the rest of the amber liquid. After deciding nods were a good enough answer, she continued, "Hope you guys are ready because there's actually a crowd outside."

You can't hide your shocked expression and she laughs.

"How many are here for us and how many are just here for the booze?"

"That I do not know, Jack, but I guess we'll find out," she winks and walks down the wobbly stairs to the main floor.  "I'll tell Bill you guys will be ready in ten. Make it happen."

"Shall we check our sound?"

--

You could feel the sweat dripping down your brow but that didn't matter in this moment. What matters is the screams and the yells from the crowd as you finish your song.

"This next one is called Denim Dreams," Miles speaks into the mic which elicits a scream from the left side of the bar, no doubt from that girl from earlier.

You turn and watch Jack for his cue to start when he gives you a nod. You pluck out the familiar riff of the song you had written about some guy you met years ago, Miles following with the strum of his guitar, and finally Jack with a few stomps to his bass drum.

As you started singing the lyrics, making yourself sound as if you were still in love with the man you had written this song about, you didn't notice the door to the bar open. You certainly didn't notice four boys walk in and make their way to the bar, their eyes on your band the whole time. In fact, it wasn't until you finished with Miles’ solo that you spotted the members of Greta Van Fleet clapping along with the crowd and smiling at you.

[running-in-the-dark]

I've seen several posts today that made me think about school and I.. can't handle it? I can't think about school without wanting to scream so I need to talk about it to get it out of my head. This is probably going to be long and embarrassing.

I was bullied pretty severely in school. In elementary school it was fine, my friends and I were weird but we did our own thing and nobody really bothered us. And I was too busy being anxious and stressed about absolutely everything to care much anyway. But in high school it was bad. I dreaded going to school so much that I eventually just... stopped going. It wasn't just the other students, the teachers were just as bad really. I often couldn't do my homework (my home life wasn't normal, that's the nicest way I can put it) and would get yelled at or shamed for it every time, and I couldn't participate in class because I was so terrified that I couldn't remember any of the answers. I was also the only poor kid in a class of snobby kids from wealthy families (there were one or two from more average households but I was the only one who was actually poor).

I didn't go to school for weeks at a time starting in 6th grade (that made the bullying even worse when I did go). And no one cared. There was one teacher who called me at home once. She wanted to know if everything was okay, which it obviously wasn't, but I thought I was in trouble so I said yes of course it is (she was a wonderful teacher, and I don't know if she could have done more, but it still feels pretty shitty looking back on it now).

And that was that. My parents didn't care, my teachers didn't care, no one listened when I said that all I want is to go to a different school. I missed pretty much half of every school year until I dropped out six months before I would have graduated in grade 13. That's eight years. No one ever gave a fuck. I was a child. And no one did anything. Well - apart from constantly screaming at me that I was stupid and lazy and generally an awful person. Which certainly did not help me feel any safer at that fucking school.

So. I'm really fucking ashamed every time school comes up in any conversation (which happens surprisingly often). I did go to a different school two years after dropping out and got the best grades in my class (and the entire school actually; I'm not saying that to brag but because I feel worthless as a person if I don't, which is fun) so I'm clearly not 'stupid'. The difference was that the teachers there were amazing and kind and they cared about their students. And the kids in my class were far from perfect but they were mostly nice. It really would have been as simple as letting me go to a different school when I was 12 or something.

The reason that I finally dropped out was my English teacher, by the way. She did a really shitty thing that I'll probably never get over and I would have failed English because of it (the only class I was still getting good grades in, and the only class I cared about). I still can't think about anything related to Shakespeare without wanting to cry because what she did was related to that (how are you supposed to explain that to people? Oh no I don't like Shakespeare because even hearing/seeing his name makes me want to die? That's not very practical.) 🙃 It's ridiculous but that was one of the most traumatic things that's ever happened to me (it was objectively not that bad, certainly not worse than a lot of other things that have happened to me, which makes me feel like an absolute idiot for still being so affected by it 10 years later).

The worst part of it all is that no one can relate to most of this. This is not a normal thing that happens to lots of people. I've found that it's almost impossible to explain it to 'normal' people (like therapists or friends or people at uni or anyone else really). They can't believe that nobody did anything (it's not that surprising that my parents didn't notice or care that I'm probably neurodivergent, they didn't even care about this). Or they think I'm a terrible person because who does that? Who is like that? Not normal people that anyone wants to talk to. So I'm ashamed and I can't talk about it with anyone and the few times I've tried, I get such bad emotional flashbacks that I can't stop shaking and crying. It's great.

TL;DR I'm a mess.

[mmmleckerlecker]

I was reading the questions you've answered, and I'm curious now: you said that the co-existence between preds and prey is very recently. So I was thinking the HP world from years ago, when pred could snatch up whoever prey they wanted... How was the society in that time? How did they live? (Headcanon: prey lived underground?) Did the preds have no qualms in consuming whoever they could find? (prey children/teens or the elderly, for example?)... The harmony was founded by a prey or pred? (1/2)

What was the reason for the preds to make the jump from consuming indiscriminately to the public/private contracted prey? (another headcanon: preykind severely disminishing in numbers?) I find your worldbuilding so enchanting, I'm sorry for the avalanche of questions. You're awesome! (2/2)

AHHHH YES!!! THE QUESTION I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR!!! No need to apologize!!! I have considered making a post about stuff like this for awhile now but I’m always like “do people REALLY wanna hear all that?” But now i have the perfect excuse. Thank you, anon! You’re awesome too!! (WARNING this kinda turned into a chapter length read. So I hope y’all like to read history about fictional worlds.)

Okay so. This is all stuff I’ve sorta kept in my head and have built upon when I’ve had ideas, so sorry if there are some gaps currently haha.

So I imagine preds and prey started trying to “make peace” about five centuries ago but didn’t start living in true “harmony” until about two hundred years ago. And I use the term “harmony” loosely because clearly there’s still a lot of infighting happening. Before that, the preds and prey lived in two entirely separate cultures. The prey lived in larger, more stationary groups while the preds lived in much smaller, more nomadic groups. They also DEFINITELY didn’t speak the same language.

So for preds, the groups they would live in were more like traveling pods that consisted of maybe 1-3 families living/working together. Having groups of preds getting too large was… not sustainable. It would create too much competition for food. So each group would usually give other groups of preds a wide berth. Granted there were definitely still spats for territory, especially if said territory had a good supply of prey available.

Prey, much like in modern times, were never really the preds’ main food source, however. Preds would still hunt and gather like normal. It would usually take some organizing to get a raid together on a prey village (or a pred could just get lucky and stumble across one that wandered off alone). Consuming prey all the time was just too much effort. They weren’t a practical food source nor a completely sustainable one if they were over-predated. Also! Keep in mind, the more a pred consumes, the more their body acclimates to handling such a large meal. It would be better for the preds to consume every once in awhile and have their prey take longer to digest (hence, keeping them fueled longer) than to consume ALL THE TIME and risk addiction. I think consuming would probably become more regular in the cold months too, when it was harder for preds to find other food sources.

As for WHO the preds would consume? Definitely adults would make for the best meals. Children? Well, I imagine prey would be very protective of their children, first of all, making them difficult to obtain. But also they would just make… not as filling meals? Also prey children are mostly the same size as pred children so there might be that little hesitation there on the pred’s end as they’re reminded of their own kind. I guess if the pred is desperate? There’s always gonna be a time and place for special circumstances. As for the elderly… I imagine they also live in places that are harder for preds to get to. I also think if a prey managed to live that long, they would have a trick or two up their sleeve. But like I said, there’s always a possibility for things to happen.

Now for how prey live…. Like I said, they live in larger groups. There is safety in numbers, after all. These groups were basically villages, sometimes even cities where prey could really know their territory and set up defenses against any invading preds. (An underground dwelling is really cool idea tho! I also believe that prey evolved to be able to fold themselves up and be comfortable/feel safe in tight spaces that preds could never reach them in, so prey living in like a cave system might actually work really well!) Like it’s been stated in the story, prey tend to have a lot more children than preds for “just in case.” This could cause their towns to become rather large and populous sometimes.

Prey, also unlike preds, usually tried to keep in contact with neighboring towns/villages/cities. This was one of the key factors for what made it possible for the shift to both sides living in harmony to happen. Since the prey lived in settlements and kept in contact with other prey settlements, it allowed for a certain development of culture as well as the sharing and recording of knowledge that preds… just didn’t have. Prey were able to develop things like farming and running water. They could study math and science and share their knowledge in libraries and schools. They were really on their way to becoming an advanced society, they just had one big (both figurative and literal) problem holding them back. They constantly had preds attacking and killing off their people.

Despite their efforts to fight them off, the prey just weren’t winning. So they decided, if a war against preds wasn’t going to get them anywhere, then why not make peace? The first step for this was the prey learning the preds’ language. This was… dangerous, of course. But it was done enough that the prey were able to open conversation with preds. Just this move alone caused a huge shift between both sides. What are you supposed to do when your food, which for centuries has only babbled nonsense at you before you swallowed it down, suddenly starts speaking to you like an equal? It certainly gave preds pause, but not enough to stop consuming. Not that the prey didn’t expect this. They approached the preds with more than just a common language. Their first big move was offering them food. And not just any food, but GOOD FOOD. Cooked food, decadent food, spiced foods, foods that preds didn’t have the resources (nor the patience) to prepare.

Sharing food took… probably a little more effort than one might expect. Prey and preds view food fundamentally different. To prey, it’s sustenance but also something to enjoy and connect with. To preds, it’s simply something to stop hunger. There was a sort of learning curve for preds to actually learn to ENJOY food for its flavor, but once they got it… OH BOY!!! A door was opened! Because despite LIKING prey food, the preds weren’t always so good at preparing it, so it gave the prey something they could exchange for safety. (This is also something that persists into modern times. Preds are still often stereotyped as not having very refined palates and not being very good at preparing food. This is referenced a little in Heart Pangs itself as well as the one-shot I posted last week!) Once the food trade became established, it opened up relations enough to exchange other things!

The prey shared would they could with the preds in exchange for their own survival. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes it SEEMED to work but then the preds turned on them and things went downhill very quickly. But the prey had the advantage of sheer numbers and determination on their side (that and if they didn’t keep pushing they would literally be eaten alive). It took generations of negotiations, but the preds and prey eventually came to a sort of truce, though consuming never stopped entirely.

The preds weren’t stupid, they saw the prey had a lot of good stuff to offer them. At first they took what they needed and went their separate ways, but as they gained more trust from the prey, the preds encroached more and more into their territories until both sides were more or less neighbors. There were some advantages to this. If both sides cooperated enough, they were able to make further advances as civilized societies. But there were also disadvantages… like the fact that the preds were always bigger and the prey were always making sure not to anger them so it became very easy for the preds to take whatever they wanted and leave the prey with less than they deserved.

The prey even began to lose their own language as most of the preds couldn’t be bothered to learn the prey’s language (although a lot of prey terms for food and science stuck around). The preds stopped being the enemy who lived outside the prey’s walls and suddenly became the bully who lived next door. Yes, technically the prey were a little safer than before, but the advantages they once held over the preds were slipping away as the preds claimed more and more of what the prey had until the preds were able to start developing their OWN advantages.

For a long time, the preds and prey operated as two different societies that lived in one space, meaning each group had their own leaders and their own laws. But as things began getting more and more strained between each side (as they tend to do when two natural enemies live side-by-side), the prey (once more) tried to make peace. They made the bold move of reaching out to the pred leaders in an attempt to work together and function as a singular society (although both sides more or less continued to live as two societies, just under the rule of one government). The preds were surprisingly open to this change, which was a relief to the prey… at first. But then it became clear that this was mostly just a power grab for the preds to acquire more status and wealth and power amongst the prey.

Besides the fact that a lot of prey were falling into poverty because of this, the most glaring issue was that the “unification” had made it even easier for a lot of preds to break the peace and consume prey with barely any consequences. This caused a lot of prey to flee and seek out safer, more remote places to live. Eventually it got to the point where the prey leaders threatened to break away from pred society completely. The preds didn’t like this, though, as they’d gotten very used to having prey within easy reach. They also knew that losing half the people in their society would cause a lot of problems in terms of keeping everything running smoothly. However, the preds very much did not want to give up consuming entirely. It was in their nature after all, they argued.

So after A LOT of negotiations, both sides came to a compromise. The preds would actually start enforcing consuming as something illegal UNLESS the prey being consumed had agreed to it beforehand. Obviously the prey leaders couldn’t see any prey ever AGREEING to being consumed, so they settled on the compromise thinking that was the end of it. This was the true beginning of the “harmony” between preds and prey, but of course, the preds always have something up their sleeves.

Rich preds began offering up money and food and shelter to all those desperate prey in poverty. Those prey could get everything they could ever want for, the only payment was their lives ending in said pred’s gut (after a specified amount of time). These ventures started slow, but once they started to catch on, BOY DID THEY CATCH ON. The desperate prey began hearing about certain preds who were practically giving away wealth, all it took was a signature written in (figurative) blood. Meanwhile preds began hearing about other preds who had found a loophole in the consuming law and wanted in on the action. Like any good entrepreneur, the preds turned their contracts into a business and started selling them to other preds.

The prey leaders, of course, despised this, but what could they do? It all aligned with the compromise they had made. The only thing they could do was stand by and help come up with regulations for this new practice. So they did. Over the decades, the contracting businesses grew to what they are today (large corporate monsters… although the smaller, more private contracts still exist) as well as became the core to keeping the peace. Even the government itself offers contracting services now.

Society has shifted considerably in the years since harmony was reached. The two sides have mostly learned to live with each other. Prey have fought viciously to be treated as equals while a lot of preds go their whole lives without consuming (particularly fatally) even once. And, as you know, the development of neutralizers allowed preds to experience consuming without having to hurt anyone. A lot of progress has been made, but a lot of progress still needs to happen.

And I think that pretty much catches us up to the setting of Heart Pangs (whew)! I keep thinking it would be really cool to write a story that takes places in an earlier time period to further explore how different the relations between preds and prey would be, but I have yet to come up with a plot haha. Maybe someday. I’m sure an idea will come to me at a proper time. Anydays, thank you for your interest! It was really nice to be able to (finally) type all this up somewhere!!

[khaleesiofalicante]

I really said fuck classes who needs notes anyway (i do I have 5 tests in the next two weeks)

before I post my live blog here, I feel like people really underestimate how bad rumors are and how much they fuck with your mental health. they don't lose sleep over them, they don't think twice. but these things are harmful as fuck. they leave wounds that take so long to recover from because you keep on thinking about these lies who to others are "just words"

I've been there. it's not fun. I wish I had the courage back then to stand up to those rumors which I have now. these things never leave you. others might move on but the healing process is a journey that is long and hard. I wish more people understood just what effect their words can have.

Yeah, he knew a thing or two about family members going overboard with glitter.

IT'S RAFAEL CENTRIC GHSYGUJDUYDFUIKFDUIDFIUDF

TAVVY

TAVVY

TAVVY

DCSUIHDCSUIDUYUDICUIVSDUIHFVSUILFBUHKIFSV

I feel like I keyboard smash A LOT

“You will never drink even if you are not riding the bike,” Dad had pointed out – all Consul Voice and threatening glares. “The legal age for drinking in New York is 21.”

“But it’s 15 in Idris!”

“Well unfortunately for you, we are in Exile,” dad had grinned.

DAD ALEC UHIKSFDUIHKSGUIKSDVUIHKDVUHIKSVD

Max had a habit of ‘borrowing’ things and selling them on eBay. In his brother’s defense, Bapak had so many clothes that he never noticed when things disappeared. But Rafael did since he had a habit of wearing his father’s clothes.

The warlock – not the shadowhunter.

He wouldn’t be caught dead in one of those sweaters.

Now that Rafael was 18, he was almost as tall as his father.

The shadowhunter – not the warlock.

I AM SCREAMING

I love how he's clarifying which one he's talking about

“Do you know I used to have a crush on Lily Chen?” Tavvy blushed. “But then I found out she made out with Helen once and it kinda got weird.”

Ah yes. I remember. Does Rafael know that Alec also walked in on them?

ARCHITECT TAVVY

SDHDVUHDFSV,YDSFVUYVSFFUSVFUVFS

SHADOWUNTERS ATTENDING MUNDANE COLLEGES

“Dude, college kids don’t give a shit,” Tavvy laughed. “You could walk into a lecture covered in runes, holding a seraph blade and they wouldn’t give you a second look.”

“Cause they are chill?”

“Yes. But mostly cause they are dead inside,” Tavvy chuckled.

Surprisingly that's exactly what my grade 6 prefect told me (DAMN WHY AM I ALWAYS REMEMBERING GRADE 6 IT'S BEEN YEARS. that was a horrible year *shudders*)

ANJALI IS A CENTURION

LMAO THIS IS WHAT RAFAEL MEANT WHEN HE SAID HE WOULDNT WANT TO GO TO THE SCHOLOMANCE FOR PERSONAL REASONS

I still ship them.

“The meeting is going to go perfe-What is SHE doing here?”

Well, that was a quick change-

Unlike Aunt Maia, Lily did not like to be called Aunt Lily. So, Rafael respected her wishes. Max of course continued to call her Aunt Lily and sometimes Abeula Lily since his brother had a pathological condition of pissing people off.

THAT'S SO MAX OMG JHSXUHSCUHISDHUHUKIDVS

great now I miss Raphael

I HAVE A CLASS IN 7 MINUTES STOP MAKING ME CRY

that is so thoughtful of him though...

tears.

“There are no photos of Raphael,” Lily sighed.

“Because he is a vampire?” Tavvy asked sympathetically.

“Because he is Raphael,” she grinned. “Vampires can most certainly take photos. You should follow me on Instagram. My handle is simp_for_carstairs.”

Of course, it is. No one is surprised.

Tavvy picked one up, took a large bite and it threw it back immediately. “Holy shit, that’s spicy!”

“White,” Lily and Anjali snorted at the same time.

white people and their bland foods smh

“She is not wrong,” Lily nodded seriously. “I’m a Jem Carstairs fan first and a vampire second.”

As she should be

UHDSUHDFSUHFDH ANJALI AND RAFAEL COMPETING ABOUT WHO'S LILY'S FAVORITE

He observed Anjali’s long dark hair spilled over her shoulders as her eyes stayed on Lily – sharp, protective and beautiful.

"Beautiful"

I AM NOT LETTING THIS GO

I'm THE DAMN CAPTAIN OF THIS SHIP

FUCKING RUMORS

I'm GONNA KILL SOMEONE

“Shadowhunters are awful gossips,” Anjali said. “Let’s not waste our time with this nonsense.”

There was something in her voice. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

No, wait I want to know what was in her voice.

But no. It couldn’t be. They weren’t dating.

YET

Rafael was sure there was something more than friendship between them. But David was polite to a fault and Max was an oblivious little shit. So, obviously nothing had happened yet.

OH MY GOD THESE TWO

But this was different. He would tolerate rumours about himself. But he would not tolerate rumours about his family.

I and Rafael will beat up the people who spread these rumors together :D

“She once told me she likes sipping tea more than drinking blood.

I-

same.

NOT THAT I DRINK BLOOD-

RAFAEL LMAO NO

"I hate her she's so annoying"

continues to daydream about her and how tall she'd be without those boots, lies to tavvy about her dating someone

Why did he do that? What was the purpose? Did he not want other people to date just because he wasn’t dating anyone?

And he calls Max oblivious.

oh class started

shit

IDC IDC I'LL STILL BE READING

LEXI AND SELENA ARE AT THE ACADEMY

JACE HYPER FIXATING ON THINGS BECAUSE HE'S BORED IS SUCH A MOOD

“David and I added rosemary to this one,” Uncle Jace wiped his hands on his apron. “It has definitely improved the taste, hasn’t it?”

“Save me,” David mouthed from behind the man.

LMAO POOR DAVID

“Empty nest syndrome,” Rafael chuckled. “I’m glad neither Max nor I had to leave home. My fathers are much worse.”

He remembered his first sleepover at the institute. His parents had waited for “an excruciating hour” before crashing the institute and joining the sleepover themselves.

yup, that's them.

“David,” Rafael grinned. “Are you afraid of my father?”

“What? No! He is the just a regular person…who can throw me in the silent city any time he wants,” David rambled and then shook his head. “Where is Max?”

He tried to sound nonchalant. But Rafael noted the way the other boy’s eyes fluttered every time he said Max’s name.

Just the way a crooked smile appeared on his brother’s lips every time someone said David’s name.

Idiots

ok, there is so much to unpack here.

DAVID HAS A VALID REASON OK??

These two are such IDIOTS HUSDUHISCUIDSVCUIHVSDUHI

“Max said Bapak is biased, and that he needs an unbiased tutor. Uncle Ragnor volunteered,” Rafael chuckled. “God bless the poor man.”

“Max isn’t that bad,” David replied.

“Looks like you’re biased too, David,” Rafael winked and picked up a spare bow from the training room.

of course, he is.

G-FORCE KJHSDCUISDYUKDFSUYKDSVYUSFD

oh shit

oh shit

WHO DID WHAT THIS TIME

what's the rumor and who do I need to kill

He didn’t know her well. But she knew a lot about him. Just as she knew a lot about the twins. She was one of those people who was oddly invested in his life just because Rafael happened to the Consul’s son.

what is her problem?

what the fuck

I need a minute

I need a minute to digest that

I'm so glad I closed my camera in class

what the actual fuck did she just say

tell me I'm hallucinating

times like these I wish I was Jared 19

no, because I'm actually speechless right now

Paige and Irene need therapy

OH SHE WENT THERE

“Paige, that’s enough!” the Dean snapped at her. “How dare you talk to him that way? You talk about warlock corruption but where all of you when Valentine exploited Jace and Clary? Where was this moral obligation when Valentine lied to his children and played with their feelings as if they were nothing but toys to be controlled and manipulated? I’m sick of shadowhunters victim blaming children instead of holding people like Valentine accountable.”

THANK YOU

SAY IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK SIMON

I feel like we all focus so much on the "incest" and hate on clace we forget that this part of the story was literally an abuser seeing that the victim was recovering and took the only thing which made him happy from him

I can't believe this

“Children have been suffering for a long time now, Paige,” Uncle Jace said now, his fists balled at his sides. “Where were you when Alec proposed the child protection bill? We didn’t see any of you supporting it.”

“We had other priorities,” the older woman replied. “People were dying! It was not the right time for a new law. We could have always signed that bill later. There was no rush!”

OTHER PRIORITIES MY ASS BITCH FUCK YOU

hey just realizing Rafael is the token straight

I'M SORRY IM TRYING TO DISTRACT ME

“The Cohort who made children kill themselves to prove a point?” Uncle Simon asked dryly. “That Cohort?”

I am so close to either crying or killing someone or both.

This was Max’s spot since it had the best Wi-Fi coverage.

yeah trust me I spend all the time in the guest room because it has the best wifi coverage or the study.

MAX IS SMOKING TOO

YOU FUCKING IDIOTS

oh wait

oh they might be alec's

yeah

For the next thirty minutes, Max paced around the room, threatening to portal all the shadowhunters to hell.

Then he went on about a plan to attack the cohort and portal them all to hell too.

He kept talking about portalling people to hell.

MAX YES LET'S DO IT!!!!

But here is the thing about people, they don’t get to you. You get to them.

They simply say something and leave. They probably don’t even mean the things they say or lose sleep over it. But it wasn’t the same for you. You obsess over it. You stay awake at night and let it consume your dreams.

YES! To others, it's just words. meaningless. to you, the effect can be so so deep. it's not easy to always brush them off.

NO MAGNUS

THAT'S IT

MAX AND I ARE PORTALLING PEOPLE TO HELL

WE'RE DOING IT

why do we hurt others?

my teacher: ill take a test on this chapter. all 20 units

me: softly crying because people are little shits and they hurt others.

“Fuck everyone else,” dad hissed. “They’ve hurt our family enough.”

EXACTLY. LEAVE THEM ALONE.

“I am simply being honest with you,” Dad interrupted. “I could never be okay when you are away from me. But I will manage. Max is going to raise hell though. So, that’s going to be fun.”

AS HE SHOULD

Neither Rafael nor Max would never admit it out loud, but on the day of that sleepover, on the day their parents had crashed the institute bcause they had missed the kids too much…Rafael and Max had been only a moment away from calling their parents to come pick them up.

He's right though.

it'll take time. lots of it maybe.

BUT THE ACTUAL AUDACITY.

It fucked with his mind so much.

Rafael...ALRIGHT WHERE ARE MY FLAMETHROWERS

“DAD! BAPA! WAKE UP! RAFE IS TRYING TO RUN AWAY!”

MAX REMINDS ME SO MUCH OF MY LITTLE BROTHER

He had forgotten about the bloody paperwork. Shadowhunters on their travel year had to notify the Clave and get their paperwork in order.

Well, it shouldn’t be a problem since the Clave was standing across the hall.

EXACTLY

Because it was killing him. It was killing him not to be lying on the couch, his head resting on his Bapak’s lap just like every other Saturday morning.

It was killing him not to touch, not to love, not to care.

GET MY FLAMETHROWERS AND CANNIBAL GOLDFISHES WE HAVE SOME WORK TO DO

(goddamn every class I have taken so far the teacher has told us there is a test coming up it's 9 am in the morning.)

His brother growled at that like the little feral animal that he was.

that's adorable actually.

“Fine,” Max rolled his eyes. “Does this mean I can also travel? There is a Twenty One Pilots concert in Sydney and-”

“Nice try,” Dad said. “But no. You are staying here.”

“Excuse me, but what about my healing?” Max demanded. “I’ve been traumatised by this thing.”

“You can go to therapy,” Rafael winked at this brother.

Therapy is boring but useful so-

He needed to survive this. So, he decided to go back to the place he had learned how to survive in the first place.

He needed to go back home.

UGLY CRYING WHILE TAYLOR SWIFT PLAYS IN THE BACKGROUND AND MY HISTORY CLASS IN 2 MINUTES

I'm so proud of him for this...

I still say we kill these people.

JOAQUIN AND JULIETTE

UHISDCUIHFSDUGUIDFVDSDVFJHGDFVHUKDVHUKVF

Camilla Alvarez.

well well.

OH THEY KISSED

“Right,” Rafael had said. “Gap year. Besides, I do talk them. My brother threatened to paint my room in hot pink if I don’t text him every day.”

hands max a pint of paint HAVE AT IT

Max: Also – New Rumour. Dalliance between Lily and Tavvy.

Rafe: OMFG WHAT

Max: They are running with it and freaking old n*philim out.

AS THEY SHOULD UFUHIFUIHFUIHKFU

THE CENSORED N*PHILIM I'M SCREAMING

“He is hot.”

He laughed out loud. “Yeah. I hear that a lot.”

“Your dad looks kinda scary,” she pointed out.

Rafael laughed again. “Yeah. I kinda hear that a lot too.”

I'm liking this ship...

I'M STILL LOYAL TO THE RAFAEL AND ANJALI SHIP

but I'm happy for him. I'm glad he's getting the space he needs

Dad: Jst found legal age fr drnkng in Buenos Aires is 18.

Rafe: ????

Dad: I hv friends thr.

Rafe: ???

Dad: Thy r watchn u.

Rafe: Creepy but okay.

HJSDCGUIHJGSDCYUICVXUHVUHKDV

THE BOY'S DRINKING Y'ALL

Do it

MILA IS GOING TO NY!!

I like her. she's nice.

He was leaving soon. He didn’t see the point in lying to her. “I ran away from home. Kind of.”

“Why?”

“I hurt someone I love,” Rafael confessed. “The person I love most in the world.”

honey, it wasn't your fault... hugs

Shit. Why wasn’t Bapak going to the accords signing? He had been there for every single one since the very first time.

no no no no is something wrong?? I'm worried.

“You look taller,” Rafael told his brother who hadn’t grown an inch.

LMAO

Max and I are vertically challenged.

“Rafe, go to talk to him. Or I will tell everyone you’ve been smoking in the balcony!”

So, he was going to pin this on him, huh? This little shit.

well-

“You’ve progressed from freaking to fucking,” he pointed out.

“That’s not the fucking point, Rafael!” Max said in exasperation.

“You did it again,” Rafe pinched Max’s cheek. “My little brother is all grown up now. Linguistically I mean.”

“Dick."

I CAN'T WITH THESE TWO

When he had gone back to Buenos Aires, the place was completely different - even the shadow market.

There were no abandoned children in the streets. There were no racist and ignorant leaders exploiting innocent downworlders.

There was only growth.

His father had done that. Alec Lightwood had helped Joaquin and his people create a new world in Buenos Aires.

This shows how much people can flourish under good leadership if they really try.

YOU KNOW I'M SUPPOSED TO BE TAKING THESE NOTES DOWN, NOT CRYING OVER THIS.

“I will protect our family. I will protect our friends. I will protect those who ask for my protection. But I will not tolerate their hate. I will not turn my head and pretend it doesn’t hurt. Because it does hurt and that’s not okay.”

Rafael smiled at that. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s not okay.”

“The accords is important. But so am I. There is no point in signing a treaty that is meant to value equality if I have to sign it while being surrounded by those who refuse to respect me or my identity. I simply cannot do it, Rafael. I hope you understand.”

I'm sobbing like YES YOU DONT OWE THEM SHIT. THESE UNGRATEFUL BITCHES.

“It’s taken me a while to realize this. But I don’t owe the nephilim anything,” Bapak said firmly. “It’s about time they realize that too.”

YES EXACTLY

“I’ve known shadowhunters for a long time, Rafael. Good ones. Bad ones. All kinds of them – and shadowhunters have always defined themselves by their love. Not by your weapons. Not by your runes. Not by your last names. Not by your laws. Shadowhunters have always defined themselves by love. So, don’t ever let them take that away from you.”

I want this on a T-shirt. These damn shadowhunters and their love.

“Like the Accords Hall kiss?” Rafael grinned.

“It’s the stupidest thing your father had ever done – which is really saying something,” his father laughed. “But it’s also the bravest thing I’ve ever seen him do. And that’s how I knew.”

affectionate sigh that's alec.

“Good. Max is sitting in the porch and singing All by Myself,” Tessa chuckled and closed the door. “Just thought you should know!!”

Rafael giggled at that. “He must have given you hell.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” Bapak shrugged, and Rafael raised an eyebrow. “Fine. I might have promised to buy him a car when he turns 18.”

“You’re hoping he would stop aging by then, aren’t you?” Rafael chuckled.

Max is so dramatic I aspire to be like him.

Blue banners when the lost return, the shadowhunter rhythm said.

Rafael had returned home – and he was no longer lost.

I'm ok I say as I cry during my history class

I'm so proud of him.

“Well, that needs to be rectified immediately,” Dad said in the Consul Voice and literally yelled. “I am about to kiss my son – on both cheeks! You better gossip about this too!”

“Oh my god, stop!” Rafael giggled and tried to escape.

“YAS!” he heard Uncle Jace yelled from somewhere. “GIVE US A FOREHEAD KISS TOO!”

THEY ARE SO DRAMATIC I LOVE THESE IDIOTS SO MUCH.

THEM ADDING TO THE ACCORDS AS THEY SHOULD OMG

“The hell is hate speech?” someone asked.

Do you not have a dictionary you uncultured swine

“There is a very clear difference between free speech and hate speech,” Cristina Rosales pointed out. “The fact that you don’t seem to know that is all the more reason for us to include this provision.”

YES CRISTINA

“By the angel,” an old man gasped. “There is no need to be so emotional. The younger generation can be such snowflakes.”

What if I just strangles him

“Discriminatory language?” a woman demanded. “What does that even mean?”

“Calling vampires bloodsuckers,” Lily Chen answered.

“Calling warlocks demon spawns,” Ragnor Fell pointed out.

“Calling werewolves fleabags,” Maia Roberts declared.

“Calling faeries half-breeds,” Kieran Kingson all but yelled.

The fact that they have had to deal with this shit for YEARS. (also why Kingson? isn't Kieran the king?)

THE QUEEN HERSELF IS HERE Y'ALL

“Which one of you shitheads said hate speech is harmless?” Anjali demanded, her voice booming over everyone and everything else.

YES ANJALI

Anjali had a grin of her own. “While that might true, Paige, there is most certainly a law on child protection. You didn’t just hurt Magnus Bane. You also hurt his son. Section 7 of the Child Protection Bill states that any person who physically or emotionally injures a child through ill-treatment, neglect, abandonment or abuse is guilty of breaking the covenant.”

“Damn straight!” someone yelled from the crowd – it sounded suspiciously like Kit.

CALL THESE BITCHES OUT YES

“Rafael is not a child!” someone yelled again. A lot of them this time. “It’s still not illegal. The law doesn’t say so!”

“By the angel, for someone who is obsessed with the law you people seem to know nothing about it,” Anjali said in exasperation. “The child protection law defines a child as a person under 18 years OR younger. The incident happened when he was still 18. It’s illegal.”

YES ANJALI FUCK THESE PEOPLE

“I’m the Inquisitor’s daughter,” she said. “Next time, think twice before you quote the law at me.”

SHOW THEM, QUEEN

How did she know his birthday????

ahem

“So, if you do hurt him emotionally, you can still be implicated. You will face charges and you can possibly be stripped of your runes,” Anjali pointed out seriously. “Now I ask you again. Does anyone else have to say anything about him?”

There was absolute silence then.

“Didn’t fucking think so,” Anjali spat. “I literally had to mention the stripping of your marks for you to respect another person’s basic rights. If you give half the value you place on your precious runes to other people, we wouldn’t be in exile right now.”

The Cohort looked terrified – of Anjali or their future in the Clave, Rafael didn’t know.

“People are dying,” Anjali said, her voice heavy now. “Our people are fucking dying, and you seem to be more bothered with who is sleeping with whom. Shame on you. Shame on all of you!”

She turned to the Council. The Inquisitor looked like he was going to cry from pride. Rafael’s dad looked half terrified but mostly impressed. Lily was blowing kisses at Anjali. The other downworld leaders looked quite pleased.

Shadowhunters are so fucking bigoted and narrow-minded. I'm seething right now.

also, alec looking scared-

“THAT’S THE BEST SHIT I HAVE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!” Emma Carstairs yelled.

“Goddamn, I wish Magnus was here to see this,” Uncle Jace grinned. “That was satisfying as hell.”

“No worries, I recorded the whole thing!” Kit put up his hand.

YES YES AND YES

“Fuck the Cohort,” Rafael giggled.

“Actually, I would prefer you use the word screw,” his father pointed out. “Screw the Cohort!”

“Oh my god, Dad!” Rafael rolled his eyes. “I am allowed to swear once in a while.”

“No, you are not,” Dad said firmly – this man was so not ready to meet Max’s new persona. “As your friend pointed out, you are still a child.”

Alec seeing Max curse left and right: 👁️👄👁️

"She hates me!"

“Rafael, she stood up for you in front of the entire Clave. She fought the Cohort. It was incredibly brave. I wish she had spoken to me before without causing all the chaos. So, it was a little stupid of course. But still brave.”

Stupid but brave.

YESYESYESYES IT'S HAPPENING!!!

ANJALI WHO HURT YOU

WHO DARED TO

Names. Give me names NOW

Jaime no...please no not Jaime.

please please, please

ok, I searched it up. And he can get treatment. He can live. It doesn't have to be serious. please, Jaime...

“If you ever tell anyone you saw me crying, I will drag you to Idris and drown you in Lake Lyn.”

This is such an Anjali thing to say.

OOO MILLA (Mila?) MESSAGED!!! Is there gonna be some sort of love triangle here??

me who despises love triangles (aside from TID of course): ...

BUT SINCE IT'S YOU I'M SURE IT'LL BE AMAZING. I'm still nervous about this though...

UHCUHDVUKDVHUKVHUVHM I LOVED THIS CHAPTER SO SO SO SO MUCH IT WAS A LITERAL ROLLERCOASTER AND ANJALI QUEEN I LOVE

see ya on Friday!!

OKAY I AM LOVING THIS ENERGY BUT PLEASE FOCUS ON YOUR CLASSES FJKSDFHJKSJFHKD I PROMISE THE STORY IS GOING TO BE HERE WHEN YOU GET BACK LOL.

But I am so glad you like it. Amidst all your screaming and chaos, I always find very perceptive and profound observations. It's fantastic! I love it so much!

Thank you for enjoying LBAF - and good luck with your tests!!!

[venushasvixens]

Ch. 4 Back to Beginnings -Life is But a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

 WARNING: mild sexual content 

- 

The cool air that snuck its way between the buildings blew into you harshly. You placed your hand over your mouth, silencing yourself. You clenched your jaws to keep yourself from chattering, afraid that every little thing was going to give your position away. Whoever you were chasing should've been hiding from you, not from them. 

You could hear running in the distance against the pavement, echoing in the alley. It grew closer and closer. Your heartbeat was in your throat, threatening to jump out. You could feel the soft pulse through your fingertips. You couldn't tell if it was from the cold, or from the adrenaline. Was it a bad time to admit you needed to pee? 

You were a horrible bounty hunter. You were too loud, you were clumsy with your gun, and body is just far too slow to give chase. Matter of fact, you looked rather ridiculous. But then again, everybody has to start somewhere, right? 

Home was far away from here, across the solar system. And as much as you were homesick, fuel for your small, dingy ship cost money, and that was something that you did not possessed at the moment. Not one single woolong. Maybe a few coins and a token from the local arcade. You needed this bounty, and you needed it now. 

The running grew louder and louder, the noise filling the alley. You squeezed the handle of your gun, afraid that your it was going to slip. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. You never really prayed before, but maybe you should start now. One step echoed in the alley. Then another. And then another. Each one growing louder than the next. 

You placed your finger on the trigger gently, your hand surprisingly steady. You could see the outline of the woman that was now hunting you, her silhoutte growing bigger and bigger. Even though you were in the shadows of the alley, you definitely were sure that she could see you in the dark clear as day. Then she stopped, maybe a few feet in front of you. In an attempt to scare you, maybe elicit a reaction from you, she flipped out the barrel of her gun, spinning it, and popping it back in, over and over. 

"You're sure one shitty bounty hunter." she spoke. You could hear the smile in her voice, one of the last insults in your short life. You could also hear the age as well, scratchy and hoarse. "But what I will let you keep for the next minute is the smallest bit of nerve for trying to take me out." 

"You have nerve now to assume that I'll accept that." you blurted out without thinking. It may have been stupid, but do you have all the time in the world now to think it over? 

 She scoffed. " Oh, please. You're the one thinking that I'll give up myself that easily. And to a little girl with a gun." 

You swallowed. "You're not wrong, but I might surprise you." 

"Hiding in an alley waiting for the enemy to come to her? Yes, that is very surprising." she cackled, her hair flaying everywhere in the wind. Her arms outstretched, like a villain who just told the hero their heinous plan to take over the world. The dramatics certainly didn't work on you, but you sure thought it was funny. 

You start laughing as you got up and dusted yourself off. Not in a mocking tone, or in a conniving way. It was totally genuine. She noticed this, and immediately stopped laughing.  

"What"s so goddamn funny?" she ran up on you, her faces inches away from yours. You continued laughing, your head down. "Tell me, or I'll blow your fucking brains out!"

She stuck her gun underneath your chin, snarling and hurling threats at you. This still didn't stop your hysterics. "I-i think.." you couldn't even finish this sentence without a chuckle or too. "I-i honestly think.."

"You think? Spit. It. Out." she growled. 

You smiled. "I think.. you are sure one shitty criminal. Your barrel's been empty since your laughing fit a minute ago." 

Her face went blank as she looked at her gun, the barrel unloaded. 

 "Also all your bullets are on the ground behind you." You stated, your mouth into a fine line. She back up, accidentally stepping on few of the bullets. Her legs flew up, landing on her back. You could hear her start wincing and groaning.

"Seriously, how old is your gun?" You snatched her gun out of her hands, inspecting it. At a first glance, it could've been mistaken for a prop gun in an spaghetti western movie. "Wow, this is older than you. And you're ancient."

"Its my lucky gun. Its been with me since I first started in the game." She muttered. She struggled to pick herself up, but before she could, you swiped underneath her knees. She buckled down, stunned.

"I don't think I can let you off that easy. After all, I'm just a little girl with a gun, I don't know what I'm doing." You shrugged.

You aimed your gun at her leg and fired, the shot echoing. Your bounty gasped in shock, then started wailing in agonizing pain. Clutching her leg, she cried out. "Are you fucking insane?!"

"No, I'm just tired." You sighed. "Alright, let's pack it up, John Wayne."

- 

As you finished the story, Spike and Jet could not stop laughing. It wasn't that funny. But with at least with five shots in, it was hilarious. 

"John Wayne?!" Jet choked out, clutching his chest.

 "I'm not kidding."You smiled. "I thought I was a total badass." 

As you all tried to catch your breath, Spike waved over another round of shots. Jet noticed this, and put his hands up. 

"No more, Spike." he said, yawning and stretching. "I think its time we hit the hay." 

"Oh come on, Jet. At least stay for one more round." you lied, secretly wanting Jet to leave so you could have Spike all to yourself. It felt so odd, wanting someone you barely knew near you. Before today's events, you caught yourself multiple times delving into fantasies where you were confessing your love and affection to this mysterious man, and him returning just as much. He would place his hands on either sides of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. His eyes looking into yours,  And then, that classic fairy tale moment would come. A sweet, soft tender kiss, and the flying off into the sunset. Then you realize that you were just creating a version of him that you wanted, and that he probably wasn't thinking of you at all. 

And then there was moments where your mind wanders off, and you begin to think of all the ways he could absolutely destroy you. Emotionally and physically, but mainly physically. You imagined the way he would pin you against the wall, cornering you in.  Trailing his lips against your neck, biting and kissing that sensitive spot that made you go crazy. He would grab your hair, pulling your head back to face him. It wouldn't be harshly, but that he had full control of you. Spike would crash his lips against yours, desperately and passionately, like it was the last time he would ever kiss someone. 

Moaning and whining for more, you would try to snake your wrists from his grip to touch him.  But he would keep you pinned down, only torturing you more. 

"I don't think you deserve to touch me, " he would tease, pulling back from you. "Unless I hear you beg for it. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you." 

After that, you would put a lid on it for the moment. You would feel the immediate need to drink some water, and an even greater need to take a cold shower. Its not that you didn't want these thoughts, its just you didn't want them to intrude on your mind when you were  conversing with THAT person. Who was now trying to get your attention because you were spacing off. You were spacing off so bad, you hadn't realized that Jet actually did leave, and it was just you and Spike. 

"Hey," he said, waving his head in front of you, "you okay?" 

You nodded, hoping that it wasn't obvious that you were thinking of Spike fucking you six ways to Sunday. "Yeah I'm good! Why you ask?" 

"You were just staring at me like I was a piece of meat." he replied, lighting another cigarette. 

"Well, I don't even like meat, so." you smirked, taking a sip from your drink. 

He raised his eyebrows. "From what I saw earlier at dinner, I know that is a fucking lie." 

You giggled, twirling the small stirring straw in your cup. A little tipsy, and more confident than you usually were, right now was the perfect time to flirt. 

"I do like a sausage every now and then, but, "you shrugged, looking anywhere other than Spike. That was a little too bold. You looked back at Spike, who was just smirking away. 

"I think I'll that hang in the air for just a minute." he replied. 

"I'm sorry, it was just there. I had to." you chuckled. 

You noticed the faintest bit of blush on Spike's face. It could've been from the amounts of drinks he had, or the teasing earlier. You were pretty sure that it was from the drinks. Little comments like those definitely didn't influence that one bit. Or did it? 

"How longer on you planning on staying here?" Spike asked. 

"Until I'm ready to go to bed, and I'm wired." you responded, a little discouraged if Spike was implying that it was time that all parties were going home. 

"No, I mean staying here on the planet. I'll be here until next week." he said. 

"Oh my bad." you replied, your face burning slightly in embarassment. "I think the same as you, until next week. "

"Ah, okay." Spike mumbled. He looked at the tabletop, you both sitting in complete silence. What he said next made your heart jump into your throat. 

"I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to do this next week? Dinner and drinks?" He asked, finishing his cigarette. "Right before we leave, I mean." 

As much as you wanted giggle like a school girl, you played it cool. "Mr. Spiegel, it sure does sounds like you're asking me on a date." 

Spike leaned his head on his hand. "And what if I am?"

"I'd say yes. I need a little fun every now and then." you stated, mirroring Spike.

You both sat there in silence for a little bit. You wanted to say something else, but the silence was doing just right for now. Talking to someone was nice, but just enjoying another person's presence? That felt just right. 

"Question?" you asked. 

"Answer." Spike replied. 

"What  do you do for fun, besides drinking and being cool?" you smiled. 

Spike chuckled. He sat there, thinking. "If you would like, I can show you." he finally said. 

"Show me. I'll follow you wherever you go." you said, taking that last shot. 

"Alright, follow my lead then." Spike said, getting up. He held his hand out to you. You  took it, jumping out of the booth. You staggered backwards, but Spike wrapped his arm around your shoulders to steady you

"Easy there." he grinned. You were a little too tipsy to care about Spike touching you, but it was gladly welcomed with open arms. 

"Let me show you were the real fun is." 

- 

The real fun was in a small jazz bar, with a single man on stage playing the sultry notes of a saxophone. You were prepared for anything, but you thought it was going to be a little bit more exciting than this. But if this is what Spike likes, then you will definitely respect that. 

He sat next you, his arm on his knee, leaning his head in his hand. He looked mellowed out, a blank expression. You were watching him out of the corner of your eye, seeing if his face would change. But it didn't. He kind of looked bored. Hoping you weren't making him bored, you cleared your throat. That got his attention. 

"Hmm?" he asked, his eyes still fixated on the saxophone player. 

"How often do you come here?" you asked him. 

He sighed, leaning back. "Man, I want to say every time I'm on Mars. I've been going to this place since I was younger. Its almost like a safe haven for me. Where do you think I get my good taste in music from?" 

You nodded, chuckling. "I get that." 

"Besides drinking and enjoying some good music," you continued, "what else do you like to do? I already told you my hobbies earlier at dinner, so I guess its your turn to spill." 

Spike leaned backwards, hands interlocked in the back of his head. "My hobbies." he thought. "I want to say make money, eat, and go to sleep." 

You smiled. "No, I'm serious. What do you like to do for fun?" 

"I'm serious too. Now that I think about it, I want to add on watching TV and practicing some punches, so I'm not too rusty." he replied. 

"Who do you practice punches on? Not on anyone on the Bebop, I hope." you said. 

"If I could, I would. Some of them really do know how to push my buttons." he muttered, sticking a cigarette in his mouth, but not lighting it. 

"I'm not pushing any buttons by interrogating you, am I?" you asked, leaning closer. 

"Of course not. I'm just answering some questions for a curious cat." Spike winked at you. 

Your heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest, this man was so fucking fine. You bit down your lip, tapping your leg. You hope it wasn't too noticeable that Spike's flirting was taking a HUGE toll on you. You couldn't go back on to your thoughts from earlier, you can't right now. If you did, boy you were in for a treat back at your ship. 

The silence this time was a little different, like something was off. You were expecting the conversation to bounce back, but it didn't. As much as you wanted to initiate talking, you felt like you could be talking too much.  Spike was quiet, and he hadn't really changed positions for a hot minute. You now knew that when Spike got like this, he was thinking. His face would be expressionless, tapping his leg lazily, and just staring whatever direction he felt was necessary. During dinner, while you and Jet were talking, he would get quiet and travel off into his own little space. Now that it was you and Spike, you felt like you were intruding on something. 

You turned your focus back onto the music. Coursing their way into your ears, the deep notes felt like they were pulsing in your body. You still couldn't get over the air between you and Spike. It felt a little somber. 

"Hey," you said softly, touching his arm, "is everything okay?" 

Spike looked at you, his eyes turned down a little. He looked right back at him, waiting on a response. His eyes traveled from your eyes, down to your lips, and then to the rest of you. Was he checking you out? His lips formed a soft smile. 

"Yeah, I'm okay, " he said, "but besides that, did I ever tell you how nice you look tonight?" 

As flattered as you were, you were still concerned over Spike. "No, but thank you. Spike, seriously, you seem off. You were just fine and chatty earlier, but your vibe is definitely off." 

"I don't think we've been hanging out that much for you to see that." Spike shot back. 

"Yes, but I kind of got a knack for reading people." you replied, crossing your arms. You were a little taken aback by his sudden hostility, but you really didn't know what was going through Spike's mind. 

"If I said something that offended you, I-" you began, but Spike put his hand up to you. He shook his head, folding his hands together on his chin, placing his elbows on the table. 

Conflicted with pushing until he tells you and just shutting up, you sat there. You began to distract yourself with thoughts of getting another drink, what you were going to do when this "date" was over. 

"Alright, (y/n)," Spike spoke, his voice smooth, "do you want to know what's really  bugging me?"

You hesitated, anxious that you awoken something that would surely make this the last date. You nodded, turning to face Spike. 

"The past." he murmured, scooting closer to you. 

"The past? Why?" you asked quietly. 

"Why the past? Let's see." Spike stared into your eyes, his gaze unwavering. You looked back, but averted your eyes when you felt like you were overstepping. You already were overstepping with asking if he was okay, but there was something about eye contact that made you uncomfortable. 

"I've had a long, long past (y/n). I've made many stupid mistakes. And even though I know they are all in the past, they keep finding ways to ruin my present. I guess you can say I'm torturing myself with being here, since this was such a big place to hang when I was in-" Spike stopped abruptly, clamping his mouth shut. 

You nodded. "You don't have to say anything else. I understand." You gave him a small smile, placing your hand on his shoulder. Fuck comfort, you thought. Maybe it was just a human thing, to reach out to others when they're in pain, forgetting boundaries and anything that could hold back support. 

He looked at the placement of your hand, then back at your face. It seemed like eternity that you were both like this. He returned the smile, a silent thank you in the air.

 "Now I know that we already kind of drank a lot earlier, but how does another round sound?" you grinned.

 Spike's face lit up. "You read my mind, (y/n)." 

-  

You stumbled your way out of the bar, clinging onto Spike as he led you out onto the street. You were a giggling, drunk mess. You weren't rowdy or anything when you drank, but you sure were the comedian. Spike sobered up a little earlier, so he was a bit straighter than you were right now. 

"I would say, Spike," you slurred, "you sure are a pretty man." 

"Oh thank you. Now lets get you back home." Spike replied, just holding onto you while you tried to walk without falling over. 

"No no, you're not listening. Like you are really, really gorgeous. So gorgeous, you could put Valentine to shame." you laughed. 

Spike chuckled. "Okay, I'll take that." 

"Say thank you."

 "No." 

"Why?" 

"Cause." 

"Why?" 

Spike sighed. Now you were getting a little annoying, but he didn't want to get rid of you for the night just yet. Even if you were drunk and acting a fool, your company was something he needed for a long, long time.

 "Its a pretty night, don't you think, Spike?" you said, pointing out to the stars. 

Spike looked up, amusing you. "Sure." 

"No, say that it looks pretty. Or else you'll hurt her feelings." you smirked, giggling.

 "Whose feelings?" Spike asked genuinely, because you were definitely talking out of your ass. 

"I honestly don't know. But I do know that I'm tired as shit." you mumbled. 

Spike was tired too, but for some reason, he didn't want the night to end just yet. You haven't noticed this, but Spike was walking around buildings to see if you would follow him and not the way home. And your dumbass just did that. It was actually kind of funny, but it was a joke only for Spike. For a brief moment, you walked completely normal, and then the spiral started again.

 "Look miss, if you keep harassing me, I'm going to have to call the police on you, and I really don't want to do that." Spike teased, only adding more fuel to the fire.

 "Ahh, no, please don't do that." you replied sarcastically, putting your hands up. "I've been a good girl, I promise." You half smiled at Spike, and continued staggering to the port where your ships were. 

Spike place his hands in his pockets, trying his best not to reply to that last bit from you. But maybe he could let a little something slip. 

"From what I've seen, you've been a bad girl." Spike taunted. "A very, very bad girl." 

You turned around slowly, raising your eyebrows. Now it was your turn. 

"And what are you going to do about it?" you asked, sauntering over to Spike.

��"Give a guess." he said softly, his voice low and husky from the cigarette he just finished.

 You moved in closer slowly, finding your balance. You looked up at him, boldly running your hands up his chest. Spike flinched from your touch, but melted into it. You ran it all the way from his chest to his shoulders, and finally up to his face. Placing both hands on either side of Spike's cheeks, you brought his face down to yours gently. The smell of alcohol and smoke filled your nostrils, tingling your senses.

 You tilted your head, chuckling softly at how you had Spike wrapped around your finger at this moment. Spike closed the space between you both, taking into account how your hands framed his face so kindly, like you both have been doing this for forever.

 "Mr. Spiegel," you began, smiling, "you're not going to do a goddamn-"

A loud blast burst through the air, scaring you enough to become completely sober. Orange flames and clouds of smoke could be seen from behind the buildings. Alarms from the surrounding structures sounded off, people yelling and asking each other what the commotion was.

 "What the fuck?" you yelled as you watched the flames grow at a steady pace. You shielded your eyes, coughing. 

"Its from the port!" a person shouted. "There was an explosion at the port!" 

You and Spike looked at each other. Without thinking, you both bolted towards the chaotic scene. Every step brought more anxiety, not only for your ship, but for the Bebop. People ran around, to and from the port. You covered your mouth from the sudden inhalation of smoke, coughing more and more. As you came to a clearing, you could see the tumultuous scene before you. 

Your ship was burning, engulfed in a blaze of violently whipping flames. You shielded your face from the heat of your destroyed home, backing into Spike.

 "(y/n), we have to get away from here!" Spike shouted over the screams of panic surrounding you both. He wrapped his arms around you and started pulling you away, your feet dragging. 

You began to hyperventilate, unintentionally filling your lungs with smoke. Either from shock or the smoke, your vision blurred, and finally, slipping to black. 

- 

AN: Thank you all for sticking around. With these last two months, I've lost two jobs and gained one where I'm finally in a good place, financially and mentally, so that's good. I want to push out more fics for characters listed on here and my tumblr (same username as my Wattpad). Once again, thank you guys so much for enjoying this fic, and please, stay safe. 

[joshua-flipping-washington]

EllieDina Week Day 2: Dawn.

Okay, I know that this is extremely late! But I only get time to write at night, so I hope you enjoy this crazy mess of a story. I had a lot of fun writing it. The rating I will say is for teens and up, just to be safe.

○•°●

Movie night at Joel's place had become a reoccurring thing once Ellie had become more adapted to the fact they actually lived in a stable home, a place with walls, food and a roof over their heads at all times.

Jackson had a surprisingly vast selection of films to choose from, and Joel was all the time always finding movies he'd loved to watch with Sarah before Outbreak Day. And he wanted to share that experience with Ellie as well, moving to Jackson had made him feel safe. Like he could finally start shedding that thick skin he'd accumulated over the years.

Ellie on the other hand, was a completely different story. Despite knowing they were safe in Jackson, her mind still kept on thinking about the what if's. She was sixteen now, and it had taken her forever to get Joel to allow her to go on patrols that weren't a large group.

But now that she had proven to him that she could handle it, she would often go on patrol with Dina and Jesse. That, would unfortunately get a bit awkward at times. Because Dina and Jesse always seemed to be dancing around each other. Ellie didn't get it, they could be having so much fun on the ride back to Jackson, laughing and cutting up. And suddenly either Dina or Jesse went silent, she didn't understand why they… They wouldn't just admit they liked each other.

< >

Ellie sat on Joel's couch, knee bouncing wildly from the nervousness she felt as she stared at the television set in front of her. Why was she feeling so fucking nervous? All she had done was invite Dina over to join them for movie night.

Joel walked out of the kitchen with his owl mug held in his hands, he shook his head with a soft, endearing chuckle. " What are you so nervous about, kiddo? I can practically see the hole you are wearing into my carpet. "

Ellie tossed her hands up in the air in frustration, flinging her head back as she exclaimed. " Ugh, I don't even fucking know, Joel! It's not like this is unusual, me… Hanging out with Dina. " She sat up quickly, a look of understanding settling on her face as it hit her. Oh- This was the first time that she'd asked Dina to hang out one on one, without Jesse.

Joel smiled knowingly as he stepped up to the couch and took a seat beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. " Well- I think that maybe… Just you and Dina should enjoy this film. I've seen it a buncha times anyway, and I've got to get up early first light. "

Ellie's green eyes widened at Joel's suggestion, and she shoved his shoulder with a frustrated groan. " You're the fucking worst. Thanks for nothing, Joel. " Part of her was grateful, but that was something Joel could never know.

Joel had moved the hand that was holding his coffee, not wanting to spill the scalding hot liquid on either of them. But he laughed as he got to his feet. " Hey, just thank me when I get back tomorrow evening. Good luck, kiddo. " And with that Joel headed upstairs, his cup of coffee in hand.

< >

Ellie had nearly started dozing off on the couch, when a knock sounded on the door and she jolted upright with fear in her eyes, her heart hammering in her chest. She shakes her head and feels stupid as she glances around, realizing that she's at Joel's place. And then it clicks in her mind that the person at the door was Dina.

She quickly scrambles to her feet, combing her fingers through her hair as she makes her way over to the door. As soon as she opens the door, she's greeted with the sight of Dina smiling brightly at her, the fluorescent lighting from Joel's porch light making her freckles pop. God, she was unbelievably gorgeous.

" Ellie? Hello, earth to Ellie. " Dina says as she snaps her fingers in front of Ellie's face.

Ellie shakes her head to clear it, looking at Dina in confusion for a moment. Before she realizes that she'd been talking to her, and was holding a baggie of cookies out to her. Her faces flushes an embarrassingly bright shade of red, as she takes the cookies from Dina. " Shit! I'm sorry about that. I totally fucking spaced. "

Dina arched her brow as she looked at Ellie, and then she laughed and stepped past Ellie and into the house. " I certainly hope you aren't spaced out yet, those cookies are made with a special ingredient. " She said with a wink.

Ellie smiled, a chuckle escaping her lips as she turned the baggie of cookies over in her hand. " No fucking way, you made edibles? Okay, this movie night just got ten times better. "

" Oh? So it would have been unbearable if I didn't bring cookies baked with a shit ton of weed in them? " Dina asked with an amused smirk on her face.

Ellie rolled her eyes at Dina's words and began shoving her in the direction of the living room, kicking the door shut with her foot on the way by. " You are such an idiot, shut up and let's get this movie started. "

Dina began walking herself to avoid being shoved by Ellie anymore, and she sat down on the couch, after snatching the cookies back from Ellie.

Ellie feigned being hurt by her snatching them back. " Well, I never- Is that how you give gifts, Dina? You just take them back? While I'm slaving away over here, setting up the movie for us to watch. " She says as she's crouched down near the DVD player, she takes the disc and puts it in the player.

Ellie let's out a yelp of surprise as a pillow is tossed in her direction, and she looks up to see Dina beckoning her over. " Oh, just shut up and get over here, El. "

Ellie shrugs her shoulders and gets up, walking over to the couch, she takes a seat right beside Dina. The remote to the DVD player in her hand. Okay, this was good. Things were still just like normal between them, the same type of banter they'd be tossing back and forth if Jesse was around.

" So, what are we watching? You said it was a movie that Joel has been wanting you to see. " Dina asks curiously, smiling at Ellie as she opens up the bag of baked goods.

Ellie's face scrunched up in thought for a moment, and Dina found the sight to be both endearing and dorky. " I think it's called Pulp Fiction, I have no clue what it's about. But Joel said he thought it was right up my alley. "

Dina gave a thoughtful hum in reply, having not seen the movie herself either. She passed Ellie one of the cookies, watching as she hit play when the movie menu popped up. " Well, I guess if we don't like this one as much, I've got a backup we can watch after. One of my favorites. "

Ellie gratefully took the cookie, tossing the remote on the other side of the couch. She glanced over at Dina curiously, not paying much mind to the start of the film. " Wait, what is your favorite movie? What'd you bring? "

Dina took a bite of the cookie she'd taken out for herself, once she'd chewed and swallowed it. She shook her head slowly and laughed. " You are going to think it's so stupid, but it's this movie called The Adventures of Milo and Otis. It's about a tabby and a pug, becoming unlikely friends. It actually turns out to be really damn sad. "

" Dina, I don't think that sounds stupid. I mean, yeah- It might turn out to be completely boring or some shit. But you said it's one of your favorites, so I'm going to watch it. " Ellie said matter-of-fact, before she began to eat her own cookie.

Both girls turning their attention to the movie that was playing on the screen, enjoying the edibles and just spending time together.

< >

Ellie snorted softly as Dina rested her head against her chest, Pulp Fiction long since over, the audio from the start screen was playing on loop. Ellie gently brushes her fingers through Dina's curls, a dopey smile on her face. " You are such a dork. "

Dina began laughing once more, the vibrations resonating throughout Ellie's chest. She raised her head slowly, her brown eyes zeroing in on all the little details of Ellie's face. The scar through her right brow, the dusting of freckles on her face, her bright and oftentimes curious green eyes. " Why don't we ever hang out like this? Just you and me? " Dina suddenly asks.

Ellie was about to attempt to sit up with how shocked she was, but it was impossible considering that Dina was practically laying on top of her. Ellie honestly couldn't even remember how they'd ended up in this position, but she wasn't mad about it. Her mind was too chill for that.

Ellie's eyes softened and she gently brushed her thumb over Dina's cheek. " I guess I'm just so used to hanging out with both you and Jesse, I didn't… I didn't- Ah, fuck it! I didn't have the balls to ask you to hang out without Jesse. " She said with a heavy sigh, knowing how stupid it must sound to Dina.

" Oh, Ellie- First off, I know that you don't have balls. " Dina teased as she chuckled, but she then smiled fondly. " I don't think it's stupid, if that's what you are thinking. Well- Maybe a tiny bit. But that's only because you know that I adore the hell out of hanging out with you! With or without Jesse. "

Ellie gave Dina's shoulder a light punch, but then she laughed and wrapped her arms around Dina. " You're such a dick. " She said lovingly.

Honestly, she wasn't sure how it happened, but one minute they are talking. And the next moment they are clutching to each other like a lifeline, their lips locked together with the occasional accidental knocking of teeth. Soft groans slips from their lips as they hold each other close.

< >

Ellie wakes up with a groan, reaching for the television remote to turn it off and make the noise stop. Her eyes widen when she realizes that her and Dina must have fallen asleep while watching the movie, Dina was curled up against her side, fast asleep. She grabbed the remote, cut the TV off and laid her head back down. Closing her eyes, she smiled faintly as she felt Dina nuzzle closer. Sleep soon taking her again.

Joel walks down the stairs at dawn, his backpack on, all ready for patrol. He chuckles and shakes his head as he passes the living room, Ellie and Dina both fast asleep on the couch. " I knew you'd be just fine, kiddo. " He said softly as he walked to the front door and stepped outside. Closing it softly behind him, he looks up at the beautiful shades of pink, purple and blue.

[medeafive]

I'm curious about Cruise!

Oh, thanks very much for asking about that! That’s actually a covid fic. In the early days, there was this one cruise ship where covid broke out and they weren’t allowed to land in Japan, I think (I think it was called Diamond Cruise). So, the fic is essentially a fake-dating mission where Natasha accompanies Bucky on the cruise because of some Hydra thing only he can recognize. And then covid breaks out and Natasha catches it (Bucky is immune because he’s a super soldier), so he has to nurse her while she’s sick and even after she gets better, they’re still stuck all day in their cabin and they get veeeery close. I wrote a solid beginning (which I’ll post below a read more) and then skipped all the fake dating to jump to the end and it’s basically abandoned now, though I hope to catch motivation again some day.

"Hell no. You can't make her do that."

Her doesn't even twitch, feet on the table, chin propped up on her palm, elbow propped up on her hip. She waits, lurking, and at some point she's going to come out swinging, whichever way. And she won't miss.

Fury rolls his eyes, except he doesn't. It's a skill Bucky admires. "Make her what, Barton?"

He used to find her kind of unremarkable- she's only human, after all, and a small one at that. Now he doesn't understand how she could ever not make the hair at the back of his neck stand. She exudes danger. It's on another frequency just out of earshot but it's deafening once you get attuned.

"Make her play cuddly with- no offense but maybe you should get out for this. With the guy who tried to murder her multiple times."

He doesn't get out and nobody seems to care. Nobody pays him any mind at all. Her still hasn't moved an inch. Like the mafia boss while everyone around argues and fights. He's seen some movies, it's just all a wash to him.

"I'm not making anyone do anything," Fury returns. "It's a fucking cruise. That's just the obvious cover. And I'm not letting a fairly new agent run a weeks long undercover operation without experienced backup."

"And how exactly do you imagine that going?" Barton asks. "Is she supposed to sleep in a small, windowless room? With him?"

"I'm sure we could work something out," her suggests surprisingly, not taking her chin out of her palm. "Build some trust."

She's not looking at him but he knows she's watching him. They're on the same frequency. The one for murderers and psychopaths. He doesn't get the feeling she's talking about her trust in him, like it's not her issue, which is eerie.

"Are you serious?" Barton questions in disbelief. He gets the feeling he wants to give her an easy out most of all, so she doesn't have to be the one who says no. "Come on, Nat. That's a swimming prison. Nowhere to run."

"I'm just saying," she adds casually, as if  she hasn't already made her decision. "Who goes on a cruise with his sister? Separate cabins? It just doesn't make sense."

"You could go separately," Steve suggests carefully. "Without connected covers."

Maybe it was when she went off the comms that one time, off the grid, and Steve said she would be fine and Barton said she was exactly where she wanted to be- and then she later walked out of the bunker, with the thing they'd been looking for the entire fucking time, crooked smile. Maybe that flicked the switch, maybe that's since when he can't see her as anything else than what she is, which is all sharp edges, all teeth, all danger. Maybe that's when it was.

"He has no experience," she points out, as if she needs to argue. "Fury is right, he needs supervision. And I can do the talking part."

Not his strong suit. "And you can sell that," Barton remarks dubiously, not specifying that.

"Sure," she replies, shrugging non-committedly. "And if he can't, I will."

He starts doubting he's actually here, with how they're all talking around him. "And I'm not making you," Fury remarks.

She grins, letting the sharp and blank shine through. "Have you ever?"

"That's settled, then," Fury finishes. He wonders if anyone ever asked him. "We'll work out the details. Ship leaves next week and then you're on your own."

They all get up and so he does, too, following Steve towards the elevator, but the hair on his neck signals to him she's there, right behind him, even if inaudible. He turns and she rolls to a stop, smoothly. "Scared?"

He shrugs. As if he would tell her. Throw her that kind of meat. "Well," she remarks, rocking up on her feet. "Better get used to it."

She's all up in his space all of a sudden, pressing his head down to her lips, and he just goes with it. There's nothing else on the other frequency than before, not that he expected it to be. It's weirdly silent around. At least he didn't startle.

"Mhm," she makes, pulling back. "Try again."

He leans down, thinking about the sharpness, nothing but the sharpness, like he's making out with a Kalashnikov, weirdly apt metaphor. But she's not that blunt an instrument, of course, more like a scalpel. A dagger. Anything that can cut someone's heart out.

She's grinning when he pulls back, sharp teeth. "Okay. I can work with that."

Barton looks half worried and half amused. He just gets on the elevator with Steve who looks at him weird, of course. Closes his eyes as soon as the doors glide together. Man. A fucking cruise. Just because he's the only one who's ever seen the stupid key they're after. And the book. Now he has to play a fucking tourist.

"Sure you can handle it?" Steve asks, sounding awfully worried, now that they're alone.

"It's just a cruise, Steve," he replies. "It's just a fucking cruise."

 They figure out a thing for his arm, they do his hair and they write him a comprehensive cover. He gets to pick what business school he went to, not nameless but not too famous, gets to pick his family background, his pet peeves. They try a few different things and end up sticking to glasses. He shaves.

He gets a briefing about her cover, too, and immediately, one of the photos slips out of the folder. She's on the cover of a magazine, supposed to look soft but he only sees the sharp edges. There's a handwritten note from her, in nice cursive, that he doesn't have to learn it by heart, that it's actually more convincing if he doesn't know everything. He reads the whole night.

She's… he's actually not quite sure. Something between a model and an actress and the kind of person a rich guy would call if he needed some arm candy. She's on Instagram, too, with a remarkable amount of followers and posts going back over three years. Nice to have such a machine at your back. She probably has fucking sponsoring deals. He read about that kind of thing.

They quiz him about his cover until he can recite the whole thing forward and backward and sideways. They quiz him about hers, too, but when he mixes it all up, the woman smiles and says that it's maybe even better this way. Better explain superficiality than try to fake it away.

He has to learn about his supposed job, too, daytrading and the commodity markets and fintec and junk bonds and all that kind of shit. That's probably what he's going to fuck up first. They teach him stupid managerial speak and quiz him about the political views he's supposed to have. When he's not talking about work, he needs to know everything about his fancy hobbies, tennis and mountain climbing and sailing. God, he hates himself.

When they travel to Okinawa, where they will board, he's so full of it, expert information and biographical details and mannerisms, he's never going to get all of that straight. Someone's life pressed into a week. How is he supposed to remember all of that, not mix it up? He'd have to be a totally different person.

"You know, I'm not particularly picky about who I make out with," she remarks. "If that helps. Not a big deal."

Of course. She'll just get it done. She's just worried he'll be difficult about it. "I'm not worried about that."

"Yes, you are," she replies seamlessly. "But I really don't care. You know, I even made out with Steve once."

That immediately sears itself into his brain, whether he wants it to or not. "Yeah. Okay."

"Different thing," she adds, starting to go through her handbag. "Sleeping arrangements. We could try shifts but that's probably not going to work. Are you claustrophobic?"

He shakes his head. He's scared of many things, though. Probably couldn't name them all if he tried. "Okay," she says. "Then it's probably easiest if one of us locks themselves in the bathroom overnight and we switch every day."

Great. Sleeping in the bathtub. "It locks from the inside, though."

"Yeah, but I'll definitely wake up from that," she replies. "You too. I considered the balcony, too, but that looks super weird if one of us sleeps outside."

Oh, no. Not at all. He wonders how long she thought about that until she felt safe with it. With him. "Okay. Bathroom."

"I'm sure it's fancy so we'll be fine," she says. "It looked fancy in the pictures."

 There are so many people. All getting on one ship. And she's talking the whole fucking time while he's just trying to find out where they're supposed to go, getting mad at him when he doesn't listen or reply or whatever shit, and at once he snaps at her. She pouts, sort of duckface if that's still a thing, turning and starting to complain to random people around them, which is fine by him as long as she leaves him alone-

It scares him to realize he's really angry, he didn't want to, certainly not to the point of losing control, snapping- yet he snapped perfectly in character. Without even trying. A few people around look at him sympathetically. It's weird but it feels sorta… good?

"Oh honey," she interrupts his calm. "Don't we have priority boarding? It's so humid out here. I'm sweating like a pig, I really need a shower. Do we have the suite with the bathtub? I'm dying out here, really. We should go for the pool first. No, shower, the shower with the…"

He stops listening after that, rolling his eyes before he even thinks about it. Wow. But he spots a sign soon after, different line, hopefully priority, the sign's golden-

She's talking with an elderly lady about the horrific heat. He takes a deep breath and just drags her that way, through the crowd, not letting go of her wrist because then he'll definitely lose her. He hears her giggle as she wiggles through the crowd. "Oh my. Oh my. You are certainly very hands-on today."

He has no fucking patience for that. Or Benedict has no fucking patience for that. Or both. "Could you just, for a second, shut up?"

She opens her mouth, gasping for a brief moment, but out only comes an angry hum. Sure, her lips are moving but he can tune the words out perfectly. The golden sign comes within reach and it's indeed their category, thank God. Now he just has to find the end of the queue. Benedict has studied in England, he would never cut in line.

They finally come to a stop, at the end of the quickly moving line. She pushes her gigantic glasses up her nose, huffing. "They better not lose our baggage. Once, on a flight, they lost my suitcase even though it had a new exclusive shawl by Hermes in it! Can you imagine? I was phoning after them for weeks and I never got anywhere, they just lost it. Never showed up again. I bet one of those shady flight attendants stole it. She was staring at me so jealously, you know, even though I barely had any makeup on, just a touch of rouge and-"

"They won't lose our baggage," he interrupts.

She stops and smiles, behind her enormous glasses, should be hard to make out but it's not, gets on her toes and quickly presses her lips to his, but he catches her head and keeps her there and- until someone clears their throat behind them, right, right, the queue, must move. He apologizes backwards, without really looking. She's smiling, moving forward, mood changed so quickly.

He doesn't really get why they would go on a cruise together when they already get so annoyed with each other. Why he would take her. He's pretty sure he's taking her, though no one told him that explicitly. The usher is staring at him expectantly, she's staring at him expectantly, and he fumbles for the tickets while she complains that he never keeps his things in order.

The usher's smile widens when he sees the price category on the ticket. "Oh, welcome on board, Mr. Darkwell, Miss Bigard. Let me escort you to your suite."