#like they gave their extensive list of all the stuff they bought and then were like 'oh yeah neuvillette took it back to fontaine with him'

[saccharinerose]

Neuvillette when Furina, Navia and Clorinde ask him to lug all the shit they bought back to Fontaine

[trueshellz]

Seeing your abusive ex: Bokuto Scenario

Based on something that happened to me today and ended with me having to call my auntie to calm me down while I cried hysterically in my car. This is based in my own symptoms but is not an extensive or absolute list. This cute boi is my comfort character from Haikyuu. If anyone ever needs to talk about stuff like this, I will happily listen. You are loved. You are amazing!

Warning: possible abuse triggers, some angst, anxiety, panic attacks, PTSD type symptoms, harassment, past abuse hinted.

You were sure the car behind you was one you had seen before, as it popped up four times on your walk home you started feeling anxious. The first time has been when you left work, it was parked across the road with lights turned off as you left the building. The second and third time were when you went and left the supermarket to get dinner ingredients that you had forgotten yesterday. This time however, you were sure it was following you as you walked home. And if you were right it belonged to your abusive ex-boyfriend, one that you hadn’t seen in over two years since you threw him out after you gathered the strength to do so.

You knew not to walk too fast or too slow, you were holding a deodorant can in your pocket and had your safety alarm in your other hand with your keys. Your main issue was getting home safe. If you went home, he would follow you and know where you live. If you went to a friend’s house, she could be in danger and you didn’t want anyone to experience what you had. At the same time, it was getting a little dark and being out after sunset was just as bad. You could feel the memories of the abuse flash through your mind like a film reel, the familiar feeling of terror as you re-lived what happened. Your breath was catching in your throat as you walked, not from exertion but from sheer panic. You tried the breathing techniques your therapist had given you, tried thinking about you lovely boyfriend and the happy memories you had made together, but nothing stopped the darkness clouding your brain.

On impulse, you dialled Koutaro’s number, knowing he was at practice there was a small chance he would pick up and if he didn’t, your best friend was next. Glancing behind you again, you stayed on busy main roads as you walked, willed and prayed to God that he picked up his phone. Weaving through people hoping that he would lose sight of you and give up, at least long enough for you to get home safely.

“Hey gorgeous, I was just going to message you. I-“

“Kou... Kou... I...l...”

Your voice broke off in sobs as you spoke, the world around you seeming too small and the noises too loud as you walked. You had a small idea where you were, relying on muscle memory walking around the city but right now, all you cared about was the car that kept coming in and out your vision.

“Baby, whats’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I...”

Bokuto could hear your voice catch as you spoke, the sound hitting him right in the chest and making his heart hurt, he hated being on the other side of the city as he practiced for his upcoming match. It wasn’t often that he heard you like this, the nightmares had decreased and apart from the one time you opened up about a past relationship, you had never been this fearful.

“Baby, listen. It’s me, its Kou. Focus on my voice ok? Forget everything else. I love you. Tell me where you are.”

“I don’t know, Kou.” A pause as he heard you take a deep breath. “I’m scared.”

“I know, baby. Tell me what you see ok? You know this city way better than I do. Remember when I got lost on the way to your house? How late was I to our first date? I’m so lucky you agreed to a second one. You know this city like the back of your hand.”

You focused on the sound of his voice, the usual soothing melody as he spoke to you. The same voice that lulled you to sleep when you had a bad dream and screamed with happiness when you played games together. The one that groaned in your ear when he was too tired to moved or whispered how good it felt being inside you. Your bubbly, cute baby owl boyfriend. Remembering the instance he spoke about, he had gotten so lost that he was an hour late for your first date. You, thinking you had been stood up, had changed out your outfit and into a onesie. By the time he arrived, he had sweat through his shirt and looked like he’d walked about 50 miles. Being hesitant about the second date, he showed up with flowers an hour early and patiently waited outside while you got ready. His logic being the he could make the time up... somehow.

Telling him what you could see and reading out the name of the roads, you could hear his team in the background. Hinata being over-excited as usual, you could imagine him jumping up and down annoying everyone while Kageyama beat him up. While the other members were mumbling other background, Atsumu’s distinct accent was clear compared to everyone else. They were always so lively when you visited, jumping to talk to you or show you new moves, always thankful for the food and snacks you bought. Even if it made your boyfriend super jealous.

“Well done, baby. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you. Listen, you’re near Akaashi’s house ok? Remember him? He’s a year younger than me? We played in high school together. You met at our school reunion a while back. He’s a comic designer now.”

Casting your mind back, you nodded to yourself when you remembered the calm guy with dark hair that your boyfriend got along with so well despite being complete opposing personalities. The number of times you had heard ‘Akaashi’ shouted at various points, you had taken to copying Bokuto that night, much to Akaashi’s chagrin and your boyfriend’s delight.

“He’s expecting you ok? He’s a good friend of mine baby, I trust him with my life. He’ll keep you safe until I get there.”

Giving you his address, you started walking towards his apartment, it was near a main road and looking around you couldn’t see the vehicle anywhere. The panic from earlier still humming through your veins as you walked towards your destination.

“Kou, but-“

“Baby, don’t start saying anything. I know you’re thinking that you’re disrupting practice or ruining my game. That it’s a headache coming all the way over there when you haven’t even told me what’s wrong.”

His tone was calm and collected, but his words rang straight through your brain triggering your panic even further and the tears that had dried now coming back full force.

“Kou. I’m sorry.”

“Woah, hey. Don’t ever apologise. Ok? I never wanna hear you apologise for stuff like this. I’m leaving now. Go to Akaashi’s house and I’ll be there in as soon as I can, ok?”

“Ok, Kou. Thank you.”

“Welcome, baby. Love you.”

Waiting around for your boyfriend was making you edgy, you couldn’t sit still. What if your ex had seen Bokuto? What if he’d seen you come here? But you hadn’t seen him, a car was easy to spot right? What if he was tracking you? You had changed your number though? Akaashi had popped in twice to check on you, once to bring you a blanket and hot tea and the second time to ask if you wanted food. The tea was swirling in your stomach, the crying had made you fell nauseous and you were sure that your stomach would revolt against any food. Hearing voices from the hallway, your body tensed expecting the worst.

He found you.

He was going to hurt you again.

Instead, familiar grey-black hair popped up from behind the door and while your heart was still in your throat, the sight of him made the thread of fear loosen a little. Dropping his bag, Bokuto walked over to you before kneeling in front of you and holding your face in his hands as he leaned his forehead against yours. Thumbs wiping away any remnants of tears, he kissed you nose, cheeks and forehead before pulling you into his arms. The feel of his arms around you, the scent of his aftershave and faint smell of sweat from his sports wear eased the tension in your body a little but could do nothing against the sobs that broke free again.

“Shh, it’s ok baby. I got you. I’ll always have you. You’re safe now.”

“Kou... I saw him. He... he was behind me.”

Bokuto knew instantly who you meant, he wished he could personally do something about him but between his career and your fear, the idea of beating your ex to a pulp didn’t seem plausible. While he wasn’t super close with Daichi, he knew Kuroo was and was going to reach out and do something about it. Holding you at arms length, he brushed away your tears and kissed your forehead again, linking your wrists together so your couple bracelets latched on to each other. They were something you had seen on TikTok, two bracelets with magnets that would link when they were close. You thought he would reject the idea at first, but Bokuto thought they were the best way to show everyone you were his girl. Plus it gave him a great excuse to your hold hand when you went everywhere.

“See, baby? Look how these magnets find each other and attract one another. Just like you and me. Nothing could keep me away from you. I’ll always find you. Okay?”

You nodded, glancing down at the bracelets and then up at your boyfriend. His amber eyes full of worry but love and the way he held you like you were something so precious.

“Plus, if he tries anything I’ll beat him up, have you seen these muscles baby?”

You snorted as Bokuto flexed his arm, muscles straining against the sleeve of his tee and couldn’t help but fall into his chest giggling as he squished you. The tears from earlier forgotten as you embraced the loving nature of your gorgeous boyfriend.

[i-cant-sing]

Omg part 2 for yan light please? Your writing is so on charater for him and yan L was also really good as well

Yandere Light Yagami Pt 2:

Pt 1 can be found here!

Thanks to everyone for requesting pt 1! Enjoy! :)

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Light Yagami:

You didn't know you could be this compliant. You didn't. But Light did.

As you both layed in bed, naked, Light holding you to his chest, rubbing soothing circles on your belly, you both had different train of thoughts that were ultimately going to reach the same station. You were thinking about how you had become so... docile? Had you been in confinement for too long? Was Stockholm syndrome kicking in? Was it because of the guilt of not being able to stop him? Or was it because Light killed everyone you cared about?

You had tried to play his psychological games. But you lost. You had managed to get a hold of the Deathnote, and you were going to write his name in but he caught you and broke your fingers. You then tried to play along; you came up with a good system for who to kill. You would do extensive research on each person, serving both purposes: to see if the person truly deserved death and to slow Light down. But you later found out that your efforts didn't matter. He was killing people on a whim and he was having someone else do it for him. Misa Amane. She was quite famous. And pretty too. You didn't know why Light would use you for intimacy, both in and out of bed, when he already had a willing participant.

For every mistake you made, no matter how little, Light would punish you by killing people you were even remotely associated with. Your family, friends, everyone was dead. And judging by the content look on his face, L was going to die soon too. Hopelessness. Maybe that's why you have become like this.

"I love you." Light said, pressing a kiss to your temple as he snuggled you more. "You're so beautiful like this." You really were, in his eyes. Now that you don't fight him anymore, now that you understood that you belong to him, you're beautiful. Light liked you being so... submissive. But more than that, he loved the look of complete defeat in your eyes, the realisation that you only have him in this world now. No ones going to come for you. No one could; only he and Misa knew about you.

"What's next?"you managed to ask him. Whats next on his list of impending doom? He hummed, before replying, "Well, soon all obstacles in my way are going to be removed. Once that happens, I'll become the ruler of the world. And then, I'll get rid of all the filth in this world." You closed your eyes, asking "how? Do you have a new system of justice in mind?" Light gripped your chin, turning your head towards him. "I am the system, (Y/n). I am justice." You saw that crazy look in his eyes. You sighed, turning away from him, but Light suddenly flipped you over, straddling your waist as he leaned down. His hair tickling your face as he looked at you with possessiveness. "Dont look so gloomy, darling. I know you feel lonely when I'm not here, but soon you'll have a baby to keep you company." He said before kissing you passionately, biting your lips hard before getting off of you. "For now, Misa will keep you entertained." He chuckled before putting the cuff back on your ankle, and left the room.

Misa. When you first met her, you knew she didn't like you. She thought that you were trying to steal Light from him, that you were actually in love with him. She tried to attack you at first, but Light had pulled her out of the room and told her that he actually loved her and that you were just a part of the plan, a temporary plaything. And so Misa put up with you. Light would usually put her in charge of you; he had caught you trying to stab yourself with a nail filer after he had slept with you the first time. And now that you were carrying his child, he had to make sure you wouldn't do anything like that again.

Misa came in a few hours later, locking the door behind her like usual. "Hey, (Y/n)!"she chirped, as she skipped towards you. "I brought some stuff for you!"she told you as she dangled big shopping bag. "Hi, Misa. Whats in that?"you asked her, your voice monotonous. She put the bag down and started to uncuff your ankle. "You'll see! But first, let's take a bath." She helped you clean up yourself and the room. Once she was done, she sat you down on the bed and gave you the bag. You opened the bag to find clothes in it. Maternity clothes. You had barely started to show. You were a bit glad that you hadn’t started showing, because anything associated with the baby would make you remember the events that caused it. When you first realised that you were pregnant, you tried everything you could to get rid of it. You didn't want to give him another thing to hold over your head. But once Light found out, he became even worse somehow. He was glad he was having a child; and now he had to do everything to make the world fit for his offspring. He started handing out harsher deaths, killing off people who rubbed him off the wrong way. To you, he stopped being physically violent. But he did become more possessive of you. He wanted to know what you were doing, why you were doing it. He wanted to know if you had fallen in love with him; if you had finally decided to become his lapdog.

When Misa came to know about your pregnancy, she was angry. Not at Light, but at you. But Light manipulated her again. He told her that he didn't want her to have a kid because her body would get messed up. And he needed her as his right hand, and being pregnant would get in the way of that. Once the baby was here, they would raise it together, as if you were a surrogate. Misa bought it.

You knew Misa wasn't stupid. She was actually quite intelligent. You actually enjoyed her company. After Light would do his number on you, it would be Misa who would come to pick up the pieces. She would be the one to wipe your tears away and bandage you up.

You had tried to convince her to let you go, tried to even fight her. But she was too observant. She predicted your moves. She always knew when you were planning something. She saw right through you.

You thanked Misa for the maternity clothes. She had ordered you guys some food, your favourite. As you began eating, Misa looked at your belly, with adoration and envy? "Penny for your thoughts?"your voice brought her of her trance. "Oh! It's nothing. Just thinking about how much Light would love the baby. I cant wait for it to come!" She smiled. You looked at her, shaking your head. "He won't." "What?" "He won't love the baby, Misa. He isn't capable of that."you told her. She smiled, "You're wrong. He does love. He loves me! He loves you too, I know. But he loves me more! And he'll love the baby as well!"

You finished up your food, "Light doesn't love us Misa. Not you, me or this baby. If he did, why would he beat you? I've seen the bruises on your arms, don't try denying. You know that he's just using you to achieve his goals. And I'm just a rag doll for him. You deserve better than him. You don’t deserve the resentment Light gives you when all you do is love him. Once he's tired of us, he'll get rid of us too. He’s hurt both of us. He's hurting both of us." You held her hand, looking her dead in the eyes. "And love isn't supposed to hurt Misa." She looked at you with an indescribable emotion in her eyes, whatever fantasy of Light she had, was cracking. "Whatever. Its not like I've got through to you before anyways-" you were cut off by Misa, her soft lips crashing with yours.

You tried to push her off, but she wouldn't budge. You heard the door open and suddenly she was ripped off of you. It was Light. He dragged Misa to the corner of the room and started thrashing her. "WHAT THE FUCK MISA?! I TOLD YOU TO LOOK AFTER HER! NOT FUCK HER!" Misa starts stammering, "Light, baby. Its not what you think-" She was cut off by Light slapping her. "Oh its not?! You were fucking sticking your tongue down her throat!" "No, it was just an accide-" He slapped her again, causing her to cry. "SHUT UP! I KNEW I SHOULDN'T HAVE TRUSTED YOU! SHE'S MINE! MINE!" Light started choking her, not realising in his screaming fit that he'd left the door wide open for you.

This was it. The perfect distraction. Your moment to escape has finally come. But you couldn't move. Not when your eyes were fixed on Misa.

You were almost a carbon copy of Light when it came to intelligence. But you still weren't able to escape him all these months. Because Light was able to control you because of a single flaw of yours. You cared. You cared about people you didn't even know, but you still cared.

If I leave now, she will die. And with that thought, you lunged towards Light, pulling at his arms trying to get him off. "Light! Stop it! Its not her fault!" Suddenly, you were pushed to the ground. Light started punching you. "Oh I know its not her fault! ITS YOURS! YOU DECIDED TO WHORE YOURSELF TO HER SO YOU COULD GET OUT OF HERE, RIGHT?! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT. YOU. BELONG. TO. ME!?!"He yelled between punches.

Misa looked at you from behind Light's shoulder. She quickly got up and tried to stop him. Pulling at his arm, she yelled again "Light! Stop! You'll kill her and the baby!" But he didn't stop, only replying "She's gone through worse! And if the baby's that weak, then it doesn't deserve to survive!" And just like that, Misa realised you were right. Whatever dream she had of Light and her was gone. She slowly backed away from Light.

Light was still punching you, even though you had lost consciousness long ago. Suddenly, Light started choking up. He got off you, not understanding what was happening to him. He turned to look for Misa, asking her to help him. But as she stood there, with the Deathnote in her hands, he realised what had happened. Misa had written his name. "M-Misa!?" She just stood there, her eyes glazed. Or had she finally woken up? "Love isn't supposed to hurt, Light And you've hurt us. A lot. Now perish."

Once Light had stopped breathing, she rushed towards you. She checked for your pulse. You were still alive. Misa pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "It'll be okay, (Y/n). We'll be okay. I'll fix everything."

You all got part 2, I got the ending I wanted. Everybody wins.

Now if someone here knows how to study biochem or do witchcraft, hmu cause I dont wanna fail exams. Speaking of which, Ill be less active here, so if you do send in requests, keep them short. Or better yet, send in questions. I’ll be happy to answer them. :)

[rmtndew]

Begin Again ~ Chapter 7

Summary: Walter Marshall is a dedicated homicide detective doing his best to balance his work life with being a single father to a teenage girl. Fiona Sparks is a woman doing her best to take care of everyone and everything around her, except for herself. Neither has had the best luck with relationships, but once they meet, they’re willing to give it another shot, this time with each other. (It’s basically just romantic fluff) 

Pairing: Marshall and OFC.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of death, cancer.

A/N - This is a sequel to ‘All I’ve Ever Known’. I started writing this because I needed an escape for some personal stuff going on and my coping mechanism included giving Marshall all the love that man needed, and imagining him being the softest boyfriend to me, then passing those details on to Fiona (my OFC).

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This is the final chapter for ‘Being Again’. I want to thank everyone who commented and shared my story, and sent me messages. You have no idea how much it means to me! I appreciate y’all so much! Thank you! 🥰

Tag list - @hollydaisy23​, @alyxkbrl​, @onlyhenrys​, @omgkatinka​, @speakerforthedead0​​, @gearhead66​,  @thethirstyarchive​, @oddsnendsfanfics​, @littlerinoa​, @agniavateira​, @aaescritora​, @justaboringadult​, @beenthroughalot​, @seriouslygoodlookinggents​, @xxxkatxo​, @musicartmayheminmyheart​, @lilliannaansalla​

If you want to be added/removed from the tag list, let me know!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 (Final)

When I woke up the next morning, it was like the night before had only been a dream. Like it was too good to be true. But when I checked my phone, I had a text from Marshall that reminded me it was absolutely real. 

Marshall: I hated leaving you. I hope you know that. Those few hours of sleep that  I had with you were some of the best  I’ve had in ages. You say I make you feel safe, but you make me feel calm in a way I’ve never felt. I hope you have a good morning. I’ll call you later.

After I read his text, I felt myself starting to cry. It wasn’t a sad cry. It was a happy, cathartic cry. Like I couldn’t contain everything I felt for him, and it had to release somehow. I’d never shared a bed with a man simply to sleep before. My past boyfriends had always expected something in exchange. Having Walter just be there was new to me. What I felt for him went beyond attraction. I didn’t know if I could ever put it into words, I just knew that it nearly hurt to feel it all. But I didn’t want it any other way.

The rest of my morning went much better than the previous days. I checked in with Mom but did my best not to worry about her. I went to the store, bought groceries for the week, and even splurged on some new candles. Then that afternoon, I started prepping for dinner. I had an idea in mind and hoped it would work out. 

At a little after seven that evening, with only ten minutes left on the oven timer, I called Marshall. “I have two questions,” I said once we exchanged ‘hellos’. “Although I think I already know the answers to both.” 

“And what would those two questions be? Or would you prefer to give me the answers first?”

“Well, I think the answer will be a yes, and then a no.”

“I’m very curious now.”

“Okay, so question one: Are you still at your office? And question two: Have you eaten dinner yet?”

“Am I that predictable?”

“Only in this one specific instance,” I said. “But it brings up a third question that I don’t know the answer to.”

“Which is?”

“Would you let me bring you dinner? I overcooked and I won’t be able to eat it all, and it’s not the best as leftovers.” 

He was quiet for a moment. “Could I come to you instead? I think an hour’s break might do me good.”

“Of course you can come here. I’ll keep it warm and we can eat together.”

“Alright. See you soon.”

After I hung up, I pulled out the new fall scented candles I’d bought that day and put them on the dining table, flocking the vase of flowers he’d bought me the night before. I wanted the house to be warm and inviting, but I didn’t want him to know that I’d planned any of it. I was pretty sure that the only way I could get away with spoiling him a little was if he thought it was an accident. He may have been the one to ask to come over, but I knew that if I’d mentioned coming to him, he wouldn’t want me to go out of my way, and would come to me instead.

He was there in less than half an hour, which made me think a little speeding was involved. I nearly teased him about putting on his siren to get there, but I couldn’t get the words out fast enough. As soon as I closed the door behind him, he had me pressed against it, his mouth on mine in an almost bruising fashion. It was different than the enthusiastic urgency so much of our makeout sessions at his place had involved. Something else was driving him. Whatever it was made him pull away almost as quickly as he’d started. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. He tried to take a step back, but I wouldn’t let him. I grabbed his sides, doing my best to hold him in place. He wouldn’t look at me. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

Once I was convinced he wouldn’t run away, I moved a hand up to his face. I didn’t try to make him look at me. “What are you sorry for?”

“I didn’t mean to be that rough. I shouldn't've -”

“Shh. No,” I cut him off. “I’m not fragile, honey. I can handle a rough kiss.” He finally lifted his eyes to mine, but the look on his face was conflicted. It hurt me. I put my other hand on his face, cradling it gently. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I just desperately needed to feel you.” He dropped his forehead to mine. “This case...the more we find out…” He let out a breath and put his hands on my waist, pulling me closer to him. “It doesn’t matter.”

He held me tighter against him. His hands felt so needy. I was afraid to say the wrong thing and make him self conscious. I stayed exactly as I was, holding his face, and let him press me further against him. Whatever had happened in the case since we’d spoken on the phone had gotten to him. He was usually so big and tough and strong, but he stood in front of me, soft and vulnerable. After a few moments, I pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He kissed me back, then let me take the lead, keeping it slow and tender. I pushed my back against the door and let him melt into me. When it felt like all the tension was gone from his body, I took one of my hands from his face and moved it down to one of his hands on my waist, holding it. 

“Let’s go eat, okay?” I said.

He nodded, holding my hand, and followed me as I walked to the kitchen. When we reached it, he stopped at the entrance and looked around. The lights were dimmed and the candles were lit. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”

“I didn’t,” I lied. “I used to do this for myself when I lived alone. Sometimes I’d put on music, or, if it was raining, I’d open a window and listen to it. I thought tonight would be a good night to try it again.” I rubbed my thumb over his hand. “And now I get to share it with you.”

“Your candles are better than mine,” he said, finally giving me a small glimpse of a smile. 

“I can help you shop for new ones. How’s that sound?”

He nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Good.” I kissed his shoulder. “Take a seat. I’ll make you a plate.”

“You don’t have to. I can do it.”

“I know you can, but I want to,” I said. “Will you let me?”

He chewed the corner of his mouth for a second. “Yeah,” he quietly relented.

“Thank you.”

He sat at the table and I pulled the food from the oven, where I’d been keeping it warm. Spinach and cheese stuffed chicken with roasted vegetables. I made us both plates, then got us drinks before sitting down. I sat right beside Marshall, rubbing his back with my left hand while we ate. A few bites in, he seemed to brighten a bit. 

“This is fantastic,” he said. “But I don’t believe for a minute that it doesn’t taste good as leftovers.”

I smiled. “That might have been a tiny lie so you would let me feed you,” I said. “Do you forgive me?”

He put his hand on my knee. “I do.”

“Good.”

He let out a breath and sat back in his chair. “You don’t know how much I needed this. I’ve been staring at the same evidence for hours, trying to figure out what I’m missing, and I can’t seem to find it.” He licked his lips. “Our victim, he wasn’t a good person. He had an extensive history of domestic violence. I keep looking at the pictures from the crime scene and comparing them to the ones in the police reports of his ex-girlfriends, the ones they filed after he’d beaten them, and I can’t imagine one of them or someone in their families shooting him twice and walking away. After what he did to those women, anyone who shot him because of it would have had more passion behind it. This was too cold and calculated for that. So if he wasn’t shot for what he’d done to them, then what was the motive?” He ran a hand over his face. “And that’s what I’ve been asking myself the last three hours, and what I would have been asking myself through the night if you hadn’t intervened.” 

“Maybe stepping away from it all for an hour will help you refocus.”

He nodded, gently squeezing my knee. “If nothing else, I’ll be thoroughly distracted,” he said, finally giving me a proper smile. 

I smiled back. “I’m happy to distract you for as long as you’d like.” I gave him a kiss. “Now eat your vegetables and you can have dessert.” He raised his eyebrows at me and smirked. I blushed, burying my face in his shoulder. “Tiramisu. I bought a tiramisu. That’s the dessert.” 

“Good. Because although another type of dessert would divert my attention far more, I’d prefer for it to last longer than an hour.” 

I was still blushing but managed to raise my head to look at him. “Really?” I asked. He nodded. “I’ve, um, I’ve never had dessert last that long.” 

He looked nearly appalled. “Never?” 

I shook my head. “Maybe twenty minutes. And that’s being generous.” 

“You must be the only one being generous is that’s the longest it lasted.” 

“You’re not wrong.”

“When it’s time for us...would you let me change that for you?”

My cheeks burned. I averted my eyes. “You don’t have to.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I know, but-”

He took his hand from my knee and moved it to my chin, lifting my face to look at him. “Fi, none of it should be about ‘having’ to. It should all be want. I’m asking because I want to. You should only answer with what you want. Neither of us should feel obligated,” he said. 

I bit my lip for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” I said. “I want to try letting you change it. But I get in my head a lot, so I can’t promise I’ll be good at it.” 

“You don’t have to be. That’s not the point.” He let his hand fall from my face down to his lap. “You and me together, that’s the good part,” he said. “But when the time comes, we’ll talk it through, yeah? Make sure we’re on the same page.” I nodded. “Good girl.”

My blush deepened, but I smiled at him. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Something horrid, I’m sure.”

I laughed. “I was thinking it must be the opposite. You see, Detective Walter Marshall, I quite adore you.”

He smiled back. “Do you now?”

“I do. I hope that’s okay with you.” 

He nodded. “It’s more than okay,” he said. “It’s also mutual.”

My smile spread wide. “So you like me, huh?” 

“Yes, Miss Sparks, I do.”

“I’m starting to question your taste, mister.”

His head fell back and he barked out a laugh that shook his whole body. “Normally that would be a good call, but not this time,” he said. “Besides, you can’t date a mess like me and question my taste.” 

I pressed a kiss to his cheek, letting my lips linger for a moment, enjoying the scratching-tickling of his beard against them. “You’re my favorite mess,” I said as I pulled away. 

He smiled at me. “Good, because it doesn’t get much better than this,” he joked.

I brushed a curl back from his forehead and let my fingers skim across his brow. He’d meant it as a joke, but sitting there with him, I couldn’t help but think it was true: It didn’t get much better than that.

I knew that Walter was tired. He kept yawning - and apologizing for it - during dinner. I kept telling him it was fine, that I understood, but he still seemed slightly embarrassed by it. After I cleared the table, I was going to get the tiramisu from the fridge but paused by the coffee pot on my way. 

“Do you want me to make you some coffee, Walt?” I asked, turning to look at him.

He’d been dozing and jolted awake, looking almost surprised at his surroundings before his eyes landed on me. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You need some sleep.”

He nodded, rubbing the heel of his hand against his eye. “Yeah. I should probably go.”

“Or you could stay. You said you slept well last night, and I’d be worried about you if you drove home this tired,” I said. “And, you know, I kind of enjoyed it, too.”

“This isn’t an act just so I can get in your bed again.”

“I know.” I walked over to him and ran a hand over his hair, brushing it back from his face. I tilted my head towards the doorway. “Come on, bear. Go on up. Your sweatpants are folded on the chair in my room.”

He stood up in front of me. “Let me help you clean.”

I shook my head. “I’m not cleaning tonight. It’ll be there tomorrow. I’m going to set the coffee maker for the morning and lock up. That’s it.” 

He gave me a look that was the closest to pouting as I’d ever seen on him. “I’ll wait with you.” 

He followed me back to the coffee pot and wrapped his arms around my waist as I filled it with water, then put in a new filter and coffee grounds. As I set the timer, he left slow, open mouth kisses down my neck. I may have been complimentary when I was sleepy, but Marshall, as it turned out, was clingy. And I didn’t mind it one bit. 

“Let’s lock up,” I said to him. 

He buried his face in the crook of my neck and let out a breath. He stayed that way for a moment, then said, “Okay.”

He let me go and we snuffed out the candles, then he stayed close as I locked all the doors and turned off the lights. Going up the stairs, he held my hand, trailing behind me because the stairwell was too narrow for the two of us to walk side by side. When we reached my room, I gently nudged him in. 

“I’m going to the bathroom. Go get comfortable and I’ll be back in a minute,” I said. 

He just nodded his reply.

I continued down the hall to the bathroom. I had a laundry basket of clean pajamas to pick from, so I had a quick pee, then changed before piling my hair up in a bun. When I went back to my room, Marshall was already in bed. He was on his side and looked asleep. But after I turned off the light, I got in bed beside him and he immediately scooted closer.

“Do you want me to hold you?” he asked sleepily. 

“I was kind of hoping we could switch and you’d let me hold you,” I said. He cracked his eyes open and looked at me, the crease between his eyebrows visible in the dark. “Not in a backpack, koala type deal, like you hold me.” 

“How?”

“Like this.” I placed his arm around my middle, then gently guided him until his head was resting on my chest. I pulled the covers up around us before wrapping my own arm around him, lightly rubbing his back, leaving my right hand free to rake through his curls.

“You’re not wasting any time taking me up on my offer to play with my hair, are you?” he mumbled.

I smiled. “Nope. Is that okay?” He nodded. I let my fingers sink to his scalp and lightly began scratching it. After just a few seconds, his body weight seemed to double as he relaxed, melting into me, and the mattress. “Is this comfortable for you?” I asked, even though I knew the answer. “We can switch if it’s not.”

“No, s’good,” he said, his words slurred. 

I kissed his forehead and continued to scratch his scalp. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Holding him to me, I could feel his breathing slow and even out as sleep claimed him in a matter of seconds. But even after he fell asleep, I didn’t stop. I held that big bear to me and loved on him as much as I could, hoping that even in his sleep, he could feel it. My plans to spoil him that night had only included cooking dinner and getting him to relax for an hour. What I got was so much better. I had never cared for a man as much as I cared about him. All I wanted for the rest of my life was the deep peace that welled up in me as I held him. 

I woke the next morning with a hazy, dreamy feeling. I was warm and wrapped up and for a moment, I thought I was at the beach, stretched out on a towel under the sun. I expected to smell the ocean air, but when I breathed in, it was something else. Something better. Something that gave me the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. That feeling slowly began to peel the layers of sleep back from my mind, and as I began to wake, I felt the feeling of fingertips grazing up and down my back. Then I felt a kiss on my forehead. Soft, warm lips lingering on my skin, finally waking me up.

I opened my eyes and all thoughts of the beach disappeared. Gray sunlight streamed in from my window, lighting up my room enough for me to see Marshall’s face as he smiled at me. 

“Good morning, darling,” he said quietly. He was on his side, just inches away from me. 

“Good morning,” I said. 

I blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the light, and taking in the form of the beautiful man in front of me. His head was propped up with one hand, his bare bicep next to my pillow, and roughly half the size of my head. His chest was mesmerizing as it rhythmically rose and fell. I’d never been attracted to chest hair before, but Marshall changed all of that. Without a second thought, I reached out and ran my fingers through it. He hummed contentedly. 

“How did you sleep?” I asked. 

“Like a rock.” His hand stilled at the small of my back. “How about you?”

“Amazing. You’re deceptively comfy for someone so stout.”

He laughed. “Am I?”

I nodded. “I like it.” 

I leaned forward and kissed his chest, the hair tickling my nose. His hand moved from my back as he reached up to cradle my head while I continued to pepper his skin with soft kisses. When I made it to the juncture of his shoulder and neck, he tilted my head back and captured my lips in a slow, lazy kiss. He pressed my back into the bed and was over me, surrounding me, as he kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, wanting to hold him as close to me as I could. He left me panting as his mouth moved from mine and kissed across my jaw and down to my neck. There was a spot behind my ear that he knew was my weakness, and he went straight for it. He nipped at it with his teeth before kissing it, and I went boneless against him. 

“I love it when you do that,” I breathed. 

His lips ghosted over my ear. I could feel his hot breath on me, sending a shiver down my spine and goosebumps across my skin. “I love doing it to you.” 

“It’s a shame I don’t live alone anymore. I could get used to waking up like this more often.”

He nosed my ear, kissing the underside of my jaw. “I live alone,” he said. “For the most part.”

“Are you bragging?”

He laughed. “No. Just letting you know that the next sleepover could be at my house.”

“A sleepover? Can we stay up all night telling ghost stories?” I joked.

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Anything is a dangerous promise, mister.”

He looked down at me. “And yet I mean it.”

I smiled. “You really do like me, huh?”

He pressed his forehead to mine. “I really do,” he said. “Actually, I…” He made his grunting-humming sound, then shook his head.

“You what?” I gasped jokingly. “Do you like like me, Walt?”

He looked me in the eye, smiling at me. “You’re the only one who calls me that, you know?”

I played with the hair at his neck, twirling a curl around my finger. “I didn’t know.” 

“I’m fairly sure most people don’t even know I have a first name.”

“I feel pretty special that you told me, then.”

“You are special.”

“And that’s why you like like me, right?” I teased. 

He let out a long, measured breath. “That’s why I love you.”

My heart felt like it stopped completely. “Are you serious?” I whispered.

He suddenly looked nervous. “I am. Is...is that okay?”

“Is it okay that you love me?”

He looked so boyish as he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yes, it’s okay.” I took his face in my hands. “Yes, yes, yes!” I said, peppering kisses all over it. “It’s…” I couldn’t even think of the right word. 

“Not too soon?” he questioned, though his worry seemed to be fading some after my reaction.

I shook my head. “No. Not at all, bear. It’s right on time.”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “Is it, now?”

“It is,” I said. “Because I love you, too.”

The smile he gave me right then made my heart flutter like never before. There were no worry lines on his face, no concern, just happiness. I wanted to cry at how beautiful it looked on him. “Do you really?”

“More than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

He kissed me and it was like he was trying to pour every ounce of love he felt for me into it. It was so overwhelming that, finally, I did cry. Marshall held me and kissed the tears from my face.

The morning before, I thought that I couldn’t put into words what I felt for him. But right then, the words came so quickly, it was like I’d been saying them all along. 

“I love you,” I whispered. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

[rwbyvein]

Firen Lhain: Chapter 806: Clear the Air:  Part II / III

"The third item on the agenda," Aurora stated, "is that I have made a short list of Atlasian architectural companies who specialize in renovating and modernizing castles."

"I'd say go with the one who's most discrete." Jaune stated.

"Of course." Aurora said, matter of factly, as if that closed the discussion. Jaune then looked between everyone else.

"For national security?" Weiss asked.

"What?" Jaune asked, "Uh, maybe? One, we're living a non-traditional lifestyle, and two, I'm not fond of scrutiny."

"Undue scrutiny?" Weiss asked.

"Or any, really."

"What about teachers?" Ruby asked.

"Well, yeah, well, teachers, teaching, kind of have important things to say, but other than that, it's not their business."

"What is?" Nora asked.

"Is not." Ren interjected.

"Is not?" Nora asked.

"What do you have?" Jaune asked.

"Not much, it's like all yours, really."

"Other than certain things." Blake stated, looking at her ring.

"I believe he means," Weiss interjected, "he wishes to avoid ANY scrutiny."

"Maybe it has to do with having seven sisters who are always in mine, and everyone else's business." Jaune stated, "Or from having a father who... liked to keep The Man at an arm's length."

"Weren't you like, a knight?" Yang asked, and Weiss turned to her.

"That might very well be the reason why. Knights were known for their... independent personalities."

"To quote my father," Jaune stated, "what business is it of yours?"

"Friend-Nora?" Penthesilea asked, "You do not own any possessions?"

"Well, there's my clothes, and Magnhild, and the gun that General Ironwood gave me." Nora replied, "And my swimsuit. Wait, no, Weiss bought my swimsuit, so I don't think it's mine."

"Pardon?" Weiss asked.

"Well, if it's my swimsuit, why can't I wear it?" Nora asked.

"Oh, well." Jaune stated, "We've had a busy what, week? Has it been two weeks since I was kidnapped?"

"A fourtnight less two days." Aurora said.

"How many is that?" Yang asked, and then her eyes rolled up as she started to do the math.

"A dozen." Blake stated.

"Why didn't she just say that?" Ruby asked.

"It's an.. older..." Jaune voiced, "measure of time."

"Back from when travel took a good deal longer." Aurora added.

"Anyways?" Jaune asked, "I mean, I was kidnapped, we ended up with a castle, I was made an Earl, we have prisoners in our dungeon."

"A dungeon you ripped the bars off." Yang said giddily.

"Anyways-anyways." Jaune stated, "I figured once we had a castle we could just, like, suntan in the garden, and whatever, and... I'm in bed because I healed the woman who killed Pyrrha." The joy seemed to evaporate from him and he slipped backwards. Ruby and Blake laid their heads on his chest. Jaune's breathing became harsh, as if he were gasping for breath.

"Should we reconvene?" Aurora asked.

"No." Jaune wheezed. "Family... first..."

"If?.." Aurora asked, and then breathed in deeply, "if we first bought sheep, we could use the income to support further renovation efforts."

"But?" Jaune asked, "Minions?"

Weiss spoke to the group, "He wishes to prioritize the benefits of his... er... minions."

"Don't we kind of need money coming in to do stuff like that?" Yang asked, causing Jaune to let out a harsh, bellowing sigh.

"He does have a point." Blake stated, now sitting up to look over the blanket.

"Ugh." Jaune sighed, "Ffiinnee. Vote."

"Do we get a vote?" Nora asked.

"Of course you do." Jaune grumbled.

"I don't mean to impose," Ren stated, "but, we are minions after all."

Jaune grumbled as he slowly forced himself to sit up, Ruby and Blake deferentially moving to the sides.

"Ren," he said, with a tint of hurt of sorrow, "we've - we've been together since Beacon. We wouldn't be here without each other, how could you?"

Ren held up his hand and Jaune trailed off, "If you could?" he asked, and Jaune simply looked at him, "As we established, we are to be minions, servants, vassals, retainers, whatever term you would prefer to use."

"Nora seems to like minions." Yang stated, causing Ren to let out a subtle smile.

"Yes, she does." he stated.

"I believe he means, Sir," Aurora said to Jaune, "that he believes such matters should be decided by the family."

"Huh?" Jaune asked, "Uh?" he said, as he laid back down. "I hate that he makes a point. Fine, sheep first."

"And?" Nora asked.

"And the llama." Jaune stated, "And whatever facilities we need to raise sheep."

"And a shepherd, obviously." Weiss stated.

"And a shepherd, obviously." Jaune repeated.

"Last on the agenda," Aurora stated, "we should consider adding another hangar or landing pad."

"Assuming we'll be building an extra wall?" Weiss asked.

"Yes, Mistress." Aurora said, causing Weiss to develope a shocked look. "Sir has requested we add a number facilities that would require extensive additions."

"Oh, uh, yes, of course." Weiss stated.

"Considering." Jaune voiced. "If that's the last business, uh... family dismissed."

* * *

"So, tell me?" Winter asked from the pilot seat, "Why has General Ironwood chosen you for this assignment?"

"I was already assigned to aid and support her previous frame." Ciel replied.

"And why were you chosen for that assignment?" Winter asked.

"I'm afraid I do not know, Specialist."

"I'm sure General Ironwood saw something in you." Winter stated.

"I do not know what, Specialist." Ciel replied.

"Maybe you need more faith in his judgement of you?" Winter stated.

* * *

The jury-rigged proximity alarm sounded and Ruby Petal Burst out of bed. Jaune made to sit up but found Blake gently pushing him back to bed. She kissed him on the cheek. "Just leave it to us." she soothingly said to him. He grumbled but laid back down.

* * *

Weiss jumped out the window, followed quickly by Yang. She used a series of Glyphs to catapult Yang up the side of the tower, before catapulting herself as well. The two shot over the side as Winter's airship landed. "Sister!" Weiss gleefully exclaimed as she landed. The airship landed and the rear gangway opened up Weiss catapulted herself over to hug Winter, but had to deflect as Ciel stepped down the gangway. She stood at attention and saluted. Weiss rebalanced herself and walked out. "Hello?" she asked.

Ruby Petal Burst onto the roof in her underwear before Petal Bursting back inside, passed Blake, also in her underwear who was flattened against the outer wall of the guardhouse. "Ciel?!" Ruby asked from inside the guardhouse.

"Cadet Ciel Soleil!" Ciel replied.

"What's a cadet?" Yang asked.

Weiss then turned to her, "Those at Atlas Academy wishing to joining the ASOC unit."

"They are given additional military training." Winter stated as she reached the bottom of the gangway.

"Okay?!" Ruby shouted from inside the guardhouse, "But, we're not like, military here."

"Not in the slightest." Winter said with a slight light blue flush.

"Your visit was... unexpected?" Weiss asked, "How are you doing, Sister?"

"General Ironwood has classified all information about this location as Top Secret." Winter replied, "All flight logs and communication reports, along with providing encrypted communications protocols, allowing you to hide your location."

"Yes, well," Weiss replied, "after what happened, that seems sensible."

"And I am doing well, sister." Winter said with a slight smile.

"And, uh, Sunshine?" Yang asked.

"Cadet Soleil." Ciel stated, still at attention.

"Yes, well," Weiss said to her, "Yang is fond of nicknames." She then offered Ciel her hand. "Weiss Schnee."

"It is an honour to meet you, Huntress." Ciel said, as she reached forward to shake Weiss' hand.

"Now, just so you know, we are not military here, and Jaune-dear is not fond of ceremony."

"Is he in charge?" Ciel asked, causing Yang to snicker, along with Ruby from inside the guardhouse.

"Pater familias." Winter stated, "And older practice that makes sense in this context."

"And this context is?" Ciel asked, "If you don't mind my asking."

"Five-way." Yang said.

"Five-way what?" Ciel asked.

"They..." Winter said and paused.

"We have an alternate lifestyle." Weiss stated, and then turned to Winter, "Is she your understudy?"

"She's Penny's friend!" Ruby shouted from inside the guardhouse.

"I was on her team, until her demise." Ciel stated, "General Ironwood has asked me to assist her however I am able." Ciel stated.

"Sorry!" Ruby shouted, "She's Penny's Weiss."

This caused Yang to start snickering.

"I do not believe she meant it that way." Weiss added. "And our relationship has improved dramatically." This cause Yang to keel over with laughter. "Yes, well, Ciel?" she asked.

"Cadet Soleil." Ciel stated.

"Ciel?" Penthesilea asked, as she landed on the tower roof.

"Ms. Polendina." Ciel said to her.

"I am afraid my friends are not so fond of formality." Penthesilea stated.

Ciel then saluted her. "General Ironwood has asked that I assist you."

"Yeah?" Yang asked, "General Ironbutt doesn't get to order us around, here."

"He explicitly stated it was a request, and if I refused it would not affect my graduation at Atlas Academy."

"Uh... huh?" Yang asked.

"And his name is General Ironwood." Ciel neutrally stated.

"My mistake." Yang said, trying to hide her smile.

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 194

September 21

So I didn't get done anything that involved leaving the house today, which is not great. It was just kind of a failure to launch day, I guess. I did get stuff done inside the house though; folded the laundry, made an enormous pot of spaghetti and meatballs, dewormed the kittens, etc. I will definitely have to leave the house tomorrow because when the kiddo realized tomorrow is going to be gorgeous all day, he was sad until I told him we could try doing school outside by hotspotting off my phone. (unlimited data on the family plan ftw!) He has now come up with an elaborate plan that also involves snacks and drinks, so I may have to get up a bit earlier than usual to set stuff up. I'm nobody's Pinterest Mom, but it's nice to do something a little different and fun sometimes. 

I realized I've been falling a little behind on watering my garden because I got so used to the rain, so I gave everything a good drink and perked it up today. I also harvested some more lemongrass and some ginger leaves and made a very nice tea from them. I learned today that lemongrass is perennial, so there is a possibility it might live through the winter and come back next year. It's not certain because I planted it in the most ridiculous possible spot, one of the side pockets in a strawberry pot, but it apparently liked it there well enough to grow like crazy all through the late summer. It and the lavender both survived, the cilantro grew and flowered and died, and the dill apparently didn't like being there. I did not put any strawberries in the strawberry pot this year because the plants I bought were too big. I think we may have explored this topic in the early early days of this journal but that was a thousand years ago and I do not remember. The ginger leaves just came from some ginger root that I forgot to use and stuck in an unused pot of dirt when it got all wrinkly. It grew beautifully! (Here's the strawberry pot early this summer on its trip to North Carolina. I got it in Laredo and it is one of my favorite things.)

I explained to the kiddo that today was the autumnal equinox, the day of the year where day and night are balanced, just before the nights start getting longer. He sighed and wished it was the other way around, so I also explained the vernal equinox. He was not impressed. He spent more time outdoors today and also a lot of time in with the kittens. They are at an extremely fun age right now, though apparently Audiva nearly got him chat banned on his minecraft server for typing gibberish. I can empathize, Sebell nearly installed the Harris Teeter app on my phone this evening by sitting on it. The biggest problem with the kiddo's current kitten preoccupation is definitely his allergies, poor kid. At least we have allergy meds for him. I also gave the kittens their second dewormer this evening, to take care of any nasty little roundworms. It's only Pyrantel though, so they'll probably need Drontal as well to take care of any tapeworms. Any kitten who has had fleas might have tapeworms, yucky. Better to take care of it while they are young and in foster! 

I keep telling myself that it is almost the end of the month, but it really is not. I can put off shopping for a few more days, but not ten full days till payday. The good news is I did get paid for some mystery shops I did a few weeks ago, so that's 70 dollars in pay any reimbursement that can go towards groceries. I already told my shopping people that I'm not doing any more restaurant shops this month because I'm out of money. They understand, they don't exactly have glamorous high-paying jobs themselves. I may, I suppose, do a couple of grocery store shops because I have to get groceries anyway, may as well take the edge off by getting a little bit paid for, right? If only it weren't the most expensive grocery stores hiring mystery shoppers! I have an extensive list by now that just keeps growing and growing, but the only thing I bought today was another pack of 50 disposable masks. They're cheap on Amazon if you don't mind waiting a month for them to ship, so I have just been ordering a new pack (about six dollars) every few weeks and assuming I will be ready for them by the time they arrive. 

In the meantime, I made a huge pot of spaghetti tonight so that we will have several meals worth of leftovers. I also pulled a ham out of the freezer (buy your ham after the ham holidays, so cheap!) and by the time the spaghetti is gone, the ham should be ready to cook. My husband doesn't like ham by itself much, but ham is incredibly versatile and can go into a million things. Plus ham salad is one of my favorite lunch foods ever. Anyway, I chopped up an onion and cooked it in a little butter till it was just starting to go a little golden, then threw in garlic and a pound of ground beef and a bunch of Penzey's Pasta Sprinkle. I used my Dutch oven because I wanted to make _lots._ When the meat was cooked I sponged off some of the grease with paper towels, then added an undrained can of diced tomatoes, a couple spoonsful of sugar, some salt and pepper, and three cans of the cheapest brand of spaghetti sauce. You really can't beat the convenience and volume of just oomphing up the kind of sauce that's 88 cents for a 20 ounce can. I threw in a bunch of frozen meatballs and simmered it for twenty minutes, then added a few big handfuls of mozzarella cheese and served it over angel hair. Very popular, and so many leftovers! I am the best at dinner. 

This day’s entry is already getting long, but I really ought to remember the Punching Mattress for posterity as well. The kiddo is now happy in his new bed on his new mattress, which means the old bed is kaput. I sold the twin frame in less than a day on Facebook Marketplace for 25 dollars. I paid 90 for it in 2013, so it was a good deal for both parties.  The mattress is only about a year old, but the kiddo has had a few destructive-feelings days and kind of severely messed up the fabric on one end. So it's not likely we're going to be able to do anything with that mattress and for now it is leaning against the wall in our entrance hallway like we're expecting a human cannonball over for dinner. I don't even remember who started it now, but it has become a good place to let off some excess energy by pretending you are a superhero or a championship martial artist. Yelling "punch, punch, punch!" while punching the mattress is optional but encouraged unless somebody is in a Zoom class. It's good exercise, and cathartic, too! I'm kind of melancholy about the idea of getting rid of it already.   

[bubmyg]

try three times - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: lawyer!au, established relationship, fluff, angst (with a happy ending!!), the introduction of seokjin’s character, nonchronological with my other lawyer!yoongi drabbles (linked on my masterlist!)

word count: 4,027

summary: yoongi doesn’t want to admit that seokjin knows what he’s doing or the one about three different weddings and where he proposes (kind of) while smelling like fish.

It’s easy to be in a room full of people and feel as though you’re the only one that doesn’t have their shit together. 

For example, the banquet hall was filled with twenty-somethings who had probably ate ramen out of peculiar objects more than they had with proper cutlery in the past six months, but you couldn’t tell it at first glance. The twenty-somethings tucked into tightly collared shirts and lace hemmed dresses mixed among actual adults, family and friends of the wedding party becoming one moving machine, sipping alcohol and munching on weirdly shaped cheese poked onto the end of toothpicks. 

Yoongi’s conscious didn’t have the heart to remind him that no one has a clue what the hell they’re doing, too overcome with the way he was clutching his champagne glass and trying to figure out an equation in his head for the amount of time spent at a friend’s wedding versus how many people you were supposed to interact with for it to be considered acceptable. 

This is Seungcheol’s fault, his conscious instead convinced him, eyes narrowing on the aforementioned groom as he gripped a tight hand with a brand new diamond band strapped on one finger around his bride’s waist. Of anyone in the room, the bride and groom seemed to have their shit together. Seungcheol was graduating a semester early. They’d just moved into an apartment together. His wife had recently gotten a full time position with her summer internship. 

Yoongi, on the other hand, had just switched his major, twice, only to end back up in what he originally started in. He would be a semester behind on credits because of it. He’d spent a strange three months in a fraternity. Law school entrance exam textbooks occupied every square inch of his desk. His shortlist of schools had only been narrowed to ten. He hadn’t touched his personal statement since high school. 

And then there was you, a year old addition in his life that seemed to fill in all the puzzle pieces of things he wasn’t. He glanced at your empty chair to remind himself that you’d disappeared twenty minutes ago to get more to drink and to grab him a slice of cake, only to be held up in three separate conversations. He’d made it to get more champagne in less than thirty seconds. 

He gulped at the sparkling liquid in his glass to feel it bubble in the pit of his stomach. 

A paper plate appeared in his peripheral, something white with pink and gold chevrons racing down the center of it, geometric patterns cut off by the slap of white cake resting on the center of it. There was a plastic fork curling out of the treat, fingers gripped on the end of it as the utensil tore off a sizable chunk and lifted into the air. 

“Mingyu cut the piece for me,” You muffled through the bite you plopped on your tongue, handing him back the fork to plop back into your chair, “Told him it was for you and he gave you a deluxe piece.” 

Yoongi hummed, absently replacing your grip on the fork. He drug one pointed prong through a small blotch of icing that had fallen away from the cake. “I’ll have to tell him thank you later…”

“I told Jihoon to mix up the playlist a little bit.” 

You were referencing the auburn headed audio engineer major who was hidden behind an array of open laptops and a giant headset at the front of the reception hall. Yoongi had a feeling he knew what you meant, but he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes anyway. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” You leaned forward in your chair, nudging Yoongi with a soft grin, “I wore closed toed shoes for a reason. Need some non-toe breaking slow dances with my man.”

“Nice try, but I don’t think you’re going to get Jihoon to leave his equipment all alone, especially not with a drunk Soonyoung lurking around—”

You giggled a little bit but there was a sizable amount of offense held in the downturn of your eyebrows as you caught the apex of Yoongi’s elbow and tugged. When he glanced at you, cheeks full of cake, you shook your head, “I meant you, nerd. I want to dance with you.”

Yoongi paused in the next bite of cake he was cutting, blinking at your intense gaze. Something inside him panicked even if his outside demeanor remained calm. The mix of emotions within him clearly rained confusion in you, especially when he cleared his throat and went to set his plate aside. 

“You know, I have to take that practice exam tomorrow morning. Jin is supposed to drive with me and I don’t want to, you know, hold him up or anything,” He averted his gaze the more hurt yours grew. He wrung his fingers together in his lap, uncrossing his legs to lean forward, still avoiding your eyes, “I was thinking we leave here in a second, if that’s okay?”

“Sure,” Yoongi heard it in your voice. He didn’t need to look up. After a moment, he saw you stand, dress fluttering past your knees in his peripheral, “Are you done with your cake?”

His eyes closed, knowing he couldn’t salvage your feelings by changing his mind, sucking it up, and asking you for a dance. Without a word, he nodded. 

You disappeared with the plate in hand just as the first slow song of the night began to play.

“You have to work,” He told the string of fairy lights currently suspended by a few stick on hooks. Deft fingers continued to fumble at the battery packs, turning the batteries inside a second time, forcing the lids shut, nail curling into the on and off switch. Nothing. 

Frustration made the battery pack, the heaviest part of the entire device, slip from his grasp, tumbling to the mountain of pillows pressed against your headboard and effectively yanking all his hard work with the lights from the wall. All that was left was a sad wooden shadow of your initials, nailed into the apartment walls. With no lights.

Yoongi had spent the greater part of the day decorating. The extensive list on your planner in the tiny kitchen said you wouldn’t be home until after dinner and he’d been determined to get something done. 

It’d only been a few weeks since you’d moved into your first place together, just a week since he’d started his first required internship of law school and just a day since your classes had returned. Thus, plastic coverings still sat taped to the television and the window of the microwave and the pull on the blinds. Unpacked boxes made a mountain where there was supposed to be a dining table, an item you didn’t have nor could you afford. 

But Yoongi could afford his day off to dig through the boxes to find all your favorite trinkets (picture frames, fairy lights, candles, the tiny porcelain cat you’d bought him as a joke) and arrange them accordingly. He’d finally set up the printer in the room you’d designated the office just to print off some of your favorite pictures together, losing a few nails along the process but managing to stuff the pictures into frames and scatter them along the walls. 

The pair of your initials next to each other had been his own touch, a quick trip into a craft store where he felt rather underwhelmed by the selection and overwhelmed by the price he’d covered with his debit card. He’d hung them above the bed, center on the wall and the headboard, the dark wood matching the navy pillows you’d stacked to give, as you’d said, some sense of put togetherness. 

A thought had entered his mind when he was shuffling through the options in the middle of the craft store. It would be so much easier if we shared initials. Just one giant M in the middle of the room…

He’d shied away from that thought when he finally located the curve of your surname. 

Yoongi mounted the bed with a wheeze from both his lungs and the worn mattress springs, effectively ruining the decorative pillow mountain as he dug for the string of fairy lights. A similar strung together list of curse words left his lips as he pried at the battery pack again, the flower shaped lights dancing against his short clad legs until there was a gentle knocking on the bedroom door and he dropped them again. 

“Bubs?” You took one step into the room before pausing, aweing around the space. There was a glint in your irises, one he could see from his compromising position, “What are you doing?”

“Can’t get your fairy lights to work,” Yoongi offered shyly, pink creeping to the back of his neck. “I think they’re the ones that were in your dorm, but—”

“If you used the batteries that were already in them, that’s why. They’re like three years old,” The mattress swayed as you clambered on to stand next to him, touching his hand where it had curled around his neck. You laced your fingers together, letting your arms dangle between each other as you again did a sweep of the room. “You did all this?”

An embarrassed sound of affirmation left Yoongi’s throat, watching you carefully. He nearly stumbled into the wall and his carefully hung lettering when you looped your arms around his neck, holding him tightly. 

“Thank you,” You murmured, kissing his throat. 

Yoongi was hesitant in the way he fit his arms around you, subconsciously leaning into your touch. 

Just as soft, he nodded, “I’m trying…”

No amount of wine seemed to moisten his tongue where it was stuck to the roof of his mouth. 

You were effortlessly gorgeous, as always, wrapped up in some emerald sequins number and a devastating smile that made his heart hurt worse than he could ever properly articulate. Yoongi’s cheeks hurt from introducing you, always coming with a shy yet wide smile when his classmate in question made some sort of playfully snide comment about how you were far too beautiful for him. 

At Seokjin’s wedding, it was a bit easier to feel less overwhelmed. Yoongi didn’t know everyone, but he knew a lot of people. Despite Seokjin’s career path not exactly diverging to where Yoongi’s seemed to be going, they were still classmates and thus still shared a lot of the same acquatences, professors, advisors, coworkers. He knew what he was doing for the foreseeable future. He’d recently passed the certification exam, marking him as someone who could now, legally, practice law. He had a job waiting and available for him, one while not exactly ideal would suffice to get his foot in the door and his rent paid for the next few months. 

Yoongi knew you’d be there, too, in his future. Even if his tongue dried every time he thought of how. 

Except he didn’t have to ponder the never ending question of rings and proposals and weddings while attending a wedding. He just had to figure out how to ask you to dance. He’d never forgiven himself for hurting your feelings at Seungcheol’s wedding. 

It was you that was trailing him the entire evening, him being the connection between most of the people at the reception and yourself. You were the stranger this time, not each of you mutually connected to the guests at the wedding. Yet, it didn’t stop you from becoming fast friends with Yoongi’s classmates and professional connections alike, dragging each of you into twenty minute long conversations about the state of nonprofit litigation and the staggering rate of black cats put down by animal shelters. 

Breaks between people gave Yoongi the opportunity to wet his tongue with a splash of sacchrine wine, poke his tongue around the tulip shape of his lips, and attempt to ask, no matter the music playing through the loud speakers overhead, only to be interrupted again. And again.

And again. 

Yoongi thought you were free by the time you’d nearly circled back around to your table where Taehyung and Namjooon were engaged in some sort of debate that involved the plastic knives from their baked chicken. He stopped you before you could sit, dragging crooked fingertips down the inside of your wrist to lace into your fingers and tug. 

The muscle felt heavy inside his mouth and he couldn’t bring himself to hold your eye contact as his heart hammered wildly inside his chest, reminding him suddenly of all the things. Nearly five years together. Two apartments together. Both of your names on the car lease. 

“Yoongi,” Your thumb swiped over his knuckles, immediately calming the roar of blood in his ears. A frown had slowly worked into the creases on either side of your lips, and you tugged back on his hand. “Is everything okay?”

He was a half second away from blurting out his impulse request, not caring about the nagging part of his subconscious that noted your open toed shoe choice for the evening when your grip was falling away from his. 

“Sorry, Yoongi!” Seokjin cheered as he spun a drunk circle in the opposite direction with you curled tightly in his embrace, “I have to steal a dance from your girlfriend.”

Yoongi watched as happiness easily overtook your features, clinging to Seokjin’s shoulders as you threw your head back at whatever rambles were leaving from his friend’s stupor. 

“Just wanted to know if you wanted to dance,” Yoongi murmured to himself, letting his arm fall limp to his side, “I hate myself for hurting your feelings every day that I can’t get my shit together and just—”

“Yoongi,” It was Namjoon saying his name, waving around his plastic knife. “You okay?”

Taehyung ignored the obvious discomfort on his friend’s features as he approached the table with dragging steps, still muttering to himself. 

“What do you think about sporks?”

“Where are you going?”

The droopy bucket hat in Yoongi���s grip crumpled more, keys still clinking together where they dangled from his free hand. He turned cheek to shoulder where you stood in the threshold with your arms crossed. 

“Fishing with Jin,” He lamented, “I told you that a week ago.”

“A week ago we didn’t have a closet full of laundry to do. Or a sink full of dishes to get done.”

You bristled at his involtunary check of his watch. “It’s only seven in the morning. We have all day to get those things done. I’ll help you when I get back…”

“I have to have our loan papers into the bank by tomorrow morning. Are we going to finish those too when you get back?”

“Yes,” Yoongi said simply, “There isn’t that much left to do on them.”

“For yours there isn’t. You’re the primary signee. I have virtually the entire packet left to complete,” After a second of staring angrily at him, you shook your head, “You know what, I’ll just do it all while you’re gone. Have fun.”

He knew you weren’t upset about a packet of questions you had to complete in order to approve you as a secondary individual on the loan for the house you two were planning on purchasing. You were upset about having to fill out an entirely different set of paperwork based on your relationship status. You’d voiced it tightly while handing him a second pen the night before when the ink in his had ran out. 

“This would be so much easier if we were married,” You’d tried to smile when his gaze flicked up to yours but he caught it anyway. He was hurting your feelings. Again. Not because of the paperwork. Because of what the paperwork implied. 

Because of the contents of the tiny velvet box that had been shoved into the front pouch of his laptop bag for the better part of six months, idle, without a finger to reside on. 

The shut of the door behind him was just as soft as his pained, “Bye…”

Yoongi, numbly, let the reel release, watching the reflection of the blue tinted line as it soared into the water, landing yards away from him with a soft plop. He set the reel in his hands, gently turning as he watched the end of the line where it disappeared into the lake create tiny ripples as it slowly came back toward where he stood on the shore. 

“How did you know?” Yoongi blurted suddenly. 

Seokjin didn’t miss a beat, “Well, generally, the fish is big enough that you can feel it tug back on the line. You have to set the hook so it doesn’t get off but don’t let it swallow it because that’s not good and—”

“No,” Yoongi stopped spinning the reel to drop his pole into the stick made stand he’d pushed into the mud on the bank. Both his fingers went to his face, dragging down on his cheeks. “How...how did you know when it was right to propose?”

“Ohh,” Seokjin stayed silent when he cast his pole again, clicking gentle as he turned the tiny device. “That’s what this is about. Has she said something?”

“No. She doesn’t have to. I can just tell.”

“Is marriage something you’ve talked about?”

“Yes.”

“Is it something you both want.”

“Yeah…”

“Do you love her?”

Yoongi’s hands fell away from his face and his features screwed up starting from his nose and ending at the part of his mouth where he, almost offended, affirmed, “More than anything else.”

“Then what’s stopping you? You could elope tonight, if you want,” Seokjin eyed Yoongi as he brought in an empty hook, letting it dangle from a second in mid air before tossing it back out into the water, “We’ll be your witnesses or whatever—”

“I’m scared.” Seokjin stopped talking upon Yoongi’s blunt statement, quietly turning away at his reel until Yoongi continued, floodgates now let loose, “I can’t hurt her feelings like I continue to, but what if it’s worse when we get married. There’s never been anyone else and there won’t be anyone else. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing because of it.”

“You’re a lovesick fool,” Seokjin confirmed, “Hey, your pole is jiggling and as much as your my friend and whatever, I’d rather not lose it, so—”

Yoongi begrudgingly picked up the pole where it was bouncing around in the makeshift twig holder, slow at first in turning at the handle but releazing whatever was on the other end was going to need more effort from him. He grunted into the next few turns, “I can’t even fish right.”

“You never could. You waste my bait everytime we go out,” Seokjin shrugged, “But you try. And I love you, in like, a brotherly way. That’s all I care about when I ask you to come along with me.”

“Is this your weird analogy to tell me that I won’t know until we try and that love is all that matters in the end?” Yoongi stumbled in trying to tug back on whatever the massive object was he was bringing in. 

“No,” Seokjin sat aside his pole, striding across the bank to slide the pole from Yoongi’s grasp. “I’m telling you to go propose to your soon to be wife while I get this moss off.”

“How do you know it’s moss and not a record breaking catfish?”

“It’s moss. Go.”

Yoongi found you curled up on the couch surrounded by half folded laundry, your eyes clearly lined in the slightest tints of pink and red, the loan application half open on the floor. He wasted no time, not wanting to hear your garbled inquiries as to whether he’d had fun or not because frankly, with how you were at the moment, he didn’t deserve to have had fun. 

“I’m not giving you this, yet.”

Your attempt at a friendly expression morphed into a confused squint. “What?”

He dug the box from his sweatpants pocket, flicking it open to show you a glimpse of the glittering jewelry inside. “I’m not giving you this, yet,” He repeated. He approached you, knocking aside a stack of his hoodies to kneel in front of you, hand engulfing your knees while the latter placed the ring box on your thigh, “but I’m going to. Soon.”

You laughed in spite of yourself, gentle at first and then bitter on the end, “I’m not upset because you haven’t proposed to me yet, Yoongi. I don’t like the implications of that.”

“I know I’m hurting your feelings. All the time,” He lifted a finger when you went to protest, “You don’t have to spare my feelings, of all things.”

“I try really, really hard for you. All the time. But that’s not a guilt trip, I know I need to do better. I’m trying right now, to give you a glimpse of what I should have done a long time ago.”

“I know that,” He let you interrupt him this time as the tiniest of tears lipped down the slope of your nose, “I’ve never doubted that. I just thought you’d changed your mind.”

Yoongi wanted you to vocalize your feelings, so he squeezed your knee and offered, “Changed my mind about what, love?”

“About us. Our future,” You shrugged, casting your gaze aside, “Not that marriage is the end all be all or that it’s just a title that helps with some tax information it’s just...”

“What you want for us,” Yoongi nodded, “It’s what I want too. I haven’t changed my mind.” 

“I didn’t really think you had it’s just...hard to not let myself think those things sometimes.”

“I’m sorry I ever made you doubt any sort of commitment I want to have in our relationship,” Yoongi leaned forward to chastely kiss away the droplets of tears clinging to the pouted round of your bottom lip. “I’m sorry I haven’t been trying hard enough for this, either.”

“I love you,” You cupped his cheeks, keeping his lips a fraction from yours. 

“I can’t wait to propose to you,” He countered.

“And I can’t wait to say yes.”

Yoongi didn’t hear the words the DJ was projecting through speakers stationed at all corners of the reception hall. He was too focused on the swirl of lights on the dance floor, ones that had dimmed into a glittery gold and ceased to move in the calculated circles they’d previously been completing. The back part of his mind wondered did we pick that color? Gold matches pink...and then he glanced at the baby pink bow tie clipped onto his collar, one he subconsciously straightened as the DJ continued to chatter on. 

He contemplated the color of the lights and the flavor of the cake icing and the extensive guest list in which half hadn’t RSVP’ed for the reception but now milled among everyone else and kept taking him away from you to chat. It was silent now, no one around him except others members of the wedding party around him, and he didn’t have to contemplate whether to seek someone out for conversation or search his subconscious for the name of your cousins’ significant other. He knew his next move, bending at the waist in front of the high backed chair you perched in and holding out a gentle palm for you even as the DJ continued to chatter over the soft applause of the guests. 

“Hey,” Yoongi murmured.

You smiled under the gold lights as they cast shadows down the contours of your features, “Hi.”

“I like your ring,” His fingers crooked when you placed your hand in his to fiddle at the diamond studded band. 

“I like your last name,” You squeezed his hand. 

Yoongi’s lips covered your fingers, gentle in pecking each one, spending extra time on the one where diamonds reflected in the gold. 

His voice muffled on the bend of your digits. “May I have this dance?”

You stood at that, gripping his fingers tightly. 

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #394

“just want one thing  /  just to play the king  /  but the castle’s crumbled and you’re left with just a name  /  where’s your crown, king nothing?”

Do you have your ears pierced more than once? Yeah; I have two in my earlobes and my right tragus pierced. I used to have a cartilage and anti-tragus piercing, but they closed when I had to take them out at the hospital. -_- Do you use an electric toothbrush? Yep. Have you ever seen a queen bee outside its hive? I don't believe so? Have you ever used Duolingo? No. Do you think the number 13 is unlucky? No. Which Clue (or Cluedo) character is your favourite? I always played Scarlet because I thought she was pretty. Do you have any novelty ice cube trays? No. Have you ever had a bad experience meeting a bf’s/gf’s parents? No. Do you get sick of eating turkey during the holidays? I don't eat turkey because I don't like it. I have honey spiral ham instead. Have you ever danced on a table? No. Did you have a lot of fun as a little kid? Yeah. Is there someone you can talk to all day, never running out of stuff to say? Some days. Ham or turkey? Ham. Would you rather eat nothing but fruits or nothing but cheese sandwiches? Fruit. What’s the last song you sung along to? I think Shinedown's "Get Up" while I was in the car. You get to be in any tv series or movie. (old/new) What are you choosing? Let's seeee... maybe Wonderland! Do you meditate? No; it actually stresses me out because I can't completely clear my head. What’s your go-to song when you’re angry? "Headache" by Motionless In White is a good one. What do you think about the most? My weight, honestly. It's at least an itching thought in my head at ALL times. Just being able to feel that I'm overweight and simply glimpsing a fatty part of my body is so, so upsetting. I usually look in the mirror to see if my face is slimmer whenever I pass one, or I'll grasp a part of my body to just feel if I've lost weight there. I could really go on and on about this, but I'd rather not, given it's depressing me talking about it. Have you ever visited any celebrity gravesites? No. How do you feel about archaeology? It's extremely fascinating to me. Any animals whose behaviors you find particularly interesting? ALL animals! Meerkats, however, quite obviously top my list. I love love love social animals, and their behaviors and deep connections remind me of just how human animals really can be, but honestly better half the time. What are your thoughts on gun control? There MUST be reform. I don't think entirely taking away the right to bear arms is the answer, but there needs, needs, NEEDS to be some serious tidying up regarding it. I believe it should be much more difficult to legally obtain a firearm with very extensive background checks and things of the like. I firmly do believe it would help SOME to prevent gun violence. Nothing is ever going to completely stop it unless firearms just cease to exist, but anything that helps reduce it is worth it. Would you have a big cat (like a tiger) for a pet if you could? Absolutely not. Big cats are extremely dangerous with strong hunting instincts, and besides putting my life at risk, I am not forcing a large animal into a small space. Do you like animals better than most humans? Sure as hell do. What simple things in life bring you the most joy? Hearing birds chirping in the morning, crickets and toads at night, starting my soda for the day (rip), watching snow fall, feeling a cool breeze on a nice day with the windows open, my pets wanting to cuddle... just to name a few. I massively appreciate the small things, so I could make this a very long list. What are your favorite smells? Cinnamon rolls, coffee, fresh baked bread, lilac, honeysuckles, etc. Ever found anything cool at a thrift store? What was it? Yeah! I've found some dragon figurines I use for decor, but the absolute coolest has to be this shipwreck lamp that I bought. I love flea markets. How do you find new music to listen to when you want it? YouTube recommendations, usually. Do you like all those dystopian future books/movies? They're all right. If you collect anything, what is your favorite piece of that collection? I collect two types of things: meerkat-oriented and Silent Hill stuff. My favorite part of my meerkat collection is Rebel, my super cute plushy that Jason got me. I slept with it for years and even now that we're done, I still hold the little guy very dear to me. My favorite SH piece I have is a limited edition, Japanese flyer for Silent Hill: Revelation that I won in a giveaway. How did you meet your significant other (if you have one)? N/A How did you meet your best friend? Via YouTube. Your favorite place to be aside from your home? Sara's house. Do you have any favorite books you’d like to have signed by the author? It'd be dooooope if I could have Tim Clutton-Brock sign my copy of Flower's biography. Do you like any board games or card games? I mean yeah. Not a lot, but some. What is your least favorite beverage? Of the things I've tried, probably black coffee. Do you like Breaking Benjamin? I do! What kind of music do you like? Metal, rock, alternative, and indie. Do you like guys with long hair? Yes. Have you ever seen an elephant? Yes. How many people of the opposite sex have you told you loved them? One, if you mean romantically. Do you and your mom get along? Yeah, we're really close. Have you ever had to change your phone number? Twice that I recall. I got a creepy text once, and another with threats. Ever been bitten by a spider? Not to my knowledge. When you were little did you jump in puddles? Oh, absolutely. Bugs: Cool or gross. Even though I'm scared of some of them, they're certainly still cool. Well, most. Do you wear a toe ring? No, I don't find those attractive at all. Have you ever had to babysit before? Twice, even though I didn't want to. Do you actually eat your fortune cookie, if you get one? Yeah, I like 'em. What's your favorite thing about cats? I enjoy how calm and independent they are. Salt, or pepper? I like both, but I prefer to have salt. Think of an ex. What's his favorite color? Jason's were green and purple. Which is better, the taste, or smell of coffee? I only like the smell. What item appears the most in your room? Meerkat stuff. Liquid eyeliner, is good, or totally sucks? My hands are WAY too shaky for that. Has a stray dog ever tried to bite you? No. Do you currently have any bug bites? No. Do you multitask well? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Do you know what an "AMV" is? Yes, because I used to make them and am considering getting back into it. What’s one award show you have to watch every year? None. Who do you like more: the Batman or the Joker? The Joker. Have you ever had a pet rock? I don't recall, actually? I might have as a little kid. Haha, there was one April Fool's Day that Mark sold rocks with his mustached "M" on them, and I SO wanted one. He gave all the earnings to a charity that I can't remember, so that also really made me wanna get one, but yeah, I was NOT asking Mom for even a small amount of money for a rock, haha. She woulda been so fucking confused. Do you know anyone with a lazy eye? Knew, rather. Did your parents let you have pets when you were a kid? Yes. What band was on the last band t-shirt you wore? Ummmm... I'm not sure. Maybe Korn? What’s the last movie you watched at a friend’s house? Elf, I believe? Do you have any tattoos on your arms? Yep. Do you own a teapot? No. Did you have a GI Joe when you were a kid? No. What is the origin of your last name? Irish. Do you ever use the "n"-word? NO. What piercing do you like most on the opposite sex? It would depend on the person, but probably some sort of lip ring(s). What is your salad dressing of choice? Ranch, or the kind from Olive Garden. Have you ever written anything longer than 10 pages? Yes. I wrote a massive essay on toxic masculinity during my last college attempt. I got WAY more into it than I thought I would.

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

Roomies

You and Tom accidentally get paired as roommates, but it quickly becomes something more. 

-

           You didn’t know what you expected when you signed up to have a random roommate because you didn’t know anyone else at the school. You were hoping you’d be friends, but you’d also heard stories of people having to change halfway through the semester because they hated each other. You hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but you were getting a bit worried when you were starting your drive up and still didn’t know who your roommate was.

           You were essentially on your own – your parents were helping your other sibling move into another college a few hours away and you weren’t all that attached to things you had at home, so you packed your clothes and toiletries and saved up money to buy everything the day you got there. Was it kind of ridiculous? Yeah. But would it save you a ton of time and pain moving in? Definitely.

           You noticed you were in one of the co-ed dorms when they gave you the key and the packet that had codes and information in it, but you didn’t know who your roommate was. You knew the last name was Holland, and that they were an international student, but other than that your packet didn’t help you. You got into the room and picked a side without much thought into it. You moved your furniture around a little, moving the bed up so that your dresser could fit underneath it and you had a little more space for your clothes that you’d brought.

           You were almost done unpacking when you heard the lock open and a guy carrying two bags walked in. You were confused for a second, and so was he.

           “Hi, I’m Tom, your last name’s Y/L/N, right?” He asked. He had a British accent, you noticed, so he was an international student after all. “I didn’t realize the rooms were co-ed.”

           “Yeah,” you responded. You shook his hand, giving him a smile. “I didn’t either. I can go to housing if…”

           “It’s fine with me if it’s fine with you. I have three brothers, so living with a girl would be different.” You smiled at him.

           “I have two sisters, so living with a guy might be nice.”

           “Is that all of your stuff?” He asked as he put his things on the bed.

           “Yeah, I tried to come with as little as possible. I figured I’d run to the Target up the street later if you want to join. I hope that’s not all of yours.” He laughed.

           “Actually, it is. I didn’t want to pay a fortune for airfare, so…”

           “If that’s everything, we could just go now. Unless you want to go to those orientation things.” He shook his head and the two of you headed down to your car. He explained that he’d just wanted to come here for college so he could move to California after, which made sense because he was going to be an acting major. Your major was similar, so you were kind of glad for the pairing. Neither of you had expected to get a roommate of the opposite sex, but you seemed like similar people so maybe it could work.

           “Okay, so if you get the fridge,” you started as you looked at the list the two of you had made in the car. “If you get the fridge, I’ll get the A/C unit. I smuggled in a TV and an Xbox, so we have those, and then we can just split the snacks if you want?”

           “Sounds good to me,” he replied. You both grabbed carts and got to work, buying everything you needed, and struggled to get it all up to your room later. By that night you were both unpacked, had set up everything, and you were putting the comforter you’d bought on your bed. It was your favorite color, and it was his, too, so he got a similar one. At least your room somewhat coordinated. You were getting pictures developed to put up on the wall, which he said he didn’t mind, and that was that. You were excited that Tom was so chill. The only inconvenience was having to change in the shower stall, but it didn’t matter that much.

           Every time you made friends, it turned out the both of you were involved, so you considered yourself lucky that Tom quickly became your best friend. You would go pretty much everywhere together, and since you had many of the same intro classes, you had a lot of classes together, too. You’d be lying if the thought of dating him hadn’t crossed your mind, but he was your roommate. He probably didn’t want to date you, and what would happen if you broke up? Nothing good, probably, so you let it go. You holed up during fall break and snacked on junk food and played games most of the time, you studied together, and whenever you went somewhere at night he would walk you there and back so nobody would mess with you.

           You were studying in the library a couple of months later when he did the first weird-ish thing. You were absolutely freezing, but it was still hot outside, so you were wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Your leg was shaking up and down and you debated walking all the way across campus for some hot chocolate. Tom looked up from his textbook and saw you were shivering.

           “I have a sweatshirt,” he said with a smile on his face. “You didn’t have to suffer.”

           “I wasn’t going to ask just in case you were cold!” You said. He handed it to you anyway and you put it on over your t-shirt. It was warm and it smelled like him, which was incredibly comforting considering you were worried you would fail the exam on the material in front of you. You muttered a thank you and he just gave you a smile, starting to type on his computer again.

           You decided to retire first and of course he walked you back, exchanged textbooks, and went down to the dorm’s common area to finish doing his homework. You were almost asleep by the time he came in and muttered a good night, earning a small laugh as he told you to go to sleep. It was little things like the sweater that started to add up. If you fell asleep he’d put a blanket on you. If he knew you were walking back to your car when it was dark he’d make you call him, or he’d volunteer to go get gas for you so you wouldn’t be out there alone. He would often bring you back food or drinks without you even asking, just because he’d gotten to know you so well that he knew you would never pass up an opportunity for a chicken sandwich and waffle fries.

           The next time things got weird was October. It was the week before Halloween and there was a party at one of the houses off campus. Tom didn’t feel like going, so he didn’t, but he told you to keep him on standby in case you needed him. You dressed up in your slutty outfit and tried to pretend you didn’t see him checking you out, and then you left. You met up with your friends, but they soon ditched you for boys they were both seeing, so you were alone.

           You started talking to this one guy, whose name you had no idea of, when Tom texted you to check in for the first time. You looked down at your phone just long enough to text him back and then grabbed your PBR, chugging the rest of it in hopes that someone had gone on another run and was back with some beer that wasn’t essentially water. It tasted weird, but you didn’t pay attention. You just kept talking to the guy.

           Your vision started going slightly blurry and you tried to walk straight on the back lawn, but you couldn’t. You noticed the guy was watching you and was never too far away, and you realized when your stomach started hurting. He’d roofied you. Shit, you thought. You took out your phone, crossing your arms against your chest to hide some cleavage, and called your trusty roommate.

           “Hey, how’s it going?” He asked, putting his phone on one ear while he continued playing with the Xbox.

           “I think some guy just roofied me,” you said, “when you texted me I looked away and he must’ve put something in it.”

           “Shit. Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

           “Take my car, it’s out in the parking lot,” you said as you started getting dizzy.

           “Don’t hang up on me, Y/N. Talk to me.” You did – he asked you about how your night had been other than that and before you knew it he was pulling up to the front of the party house. You got in and immediately reached across the console to hug him. He concluded that you’d definitely been roofied because you were drooling by the time he walked you back to the room. He herded you into the shower and then into bed after you were dressed. You woke up the next morning and he had gotten Starbucks for you, probably having borrowed your car again (and filled it back up, because that was who he was).

           “Oh, you’re a lifesaver. Literally,” you said as he presented you with the venti cold brew with sweet cream. You sat up and reached toward it and he handed it to you. You drank it like a baby drank a bottle, which just made him laugh.

           “No problem. You mind if I play Xbox?”

           “Only if I can too.” He handed you one of the controllers and sat down at his desk chair that was pointed toward the TV in between your two beds. “Come sit up here, you don’t have to sit there,” you said, referring to the wooden chair that was obviously uncomfortable. Tom always almost fell out of it, too, every time he used it.

           “Fine,” he sighed. He walked over and climbed on your bed with you, sitting down beside you, and you wasted most of the morning playing games. You both had class in the afternoon, so you bucked up the courage to go. You sat down and lo and behold, there was the guy that had roofied you. You elbowed Tom.

           “Tom, that’s the guy,” you muttered through gritted teeth, trying not to draw attention to yourself. Tom turned his head toward the guy, who looked straight at you. Tom’s arm flew around your back, pulling you to him uncomfortably.

           “Anyway,” Tom cleared his throat so the guy would look away. You elbowed him again.

           “What was that?” You asked.

           “He was looking straight at you. If he thinks the guy who picked you up was your boyfriend, maybe he’ll let you go.” You knew he was right. You tried not to let the guy get to you and eventually class let out. You were one of the last out of the hundreds of people in the gigantic lecture hall, waiting for Tom to ask the professor about an extension on a paper. You finally went back to the room and sighed.

           “There’s no need to panic, darling, you have one class with him!” Tom said as he typed away at his paper. You were pacing back and forth, shivering because the A/C unit was on full blast and you just didn’t want to walk over there to turn it off.

           “Yeah, but he definitely knew you were just pretending! What if he tries to, like, stalk me or something?” Tom scoffed.

           “Anyone that tries to stalk you will have to stalk me too because I live here. You’ll be fine. One of us’ll be with you all the time in classes and on campus. You really don’t have to worry. I promise.” You sat down in your bungee cord chair, pulling up the hood to the sweatshirt you were wearing. It was Tom’s, actually, you noticed. You didn’t notice when you’d pulled it out of your clean laundry, but you’d done some of his the night before since he didn’t have a full load, so it was definitely his.

           “I guess.”

           “Come on. Let’s go get some dinner,” he insisted, “and then we’ll go camp out in the library.” You got up and let him drag you halfway across campus to the only dining hall that was open.

           You ended up going to the semi-formal with him, because neither of you had another date, and the way he treated you was strange. He opened your door for you, he paid for the dinner beforehand, and he took about a million pictures of you for your Instagram without complaining one bit. He took care of drunk you and held back your hair, got you Gatorade, and took you to get a milkshake at 2 AM because you wanted one so badly that you were crying. You drunkenly told him you loved him and he laughed, just saying he loved you too.

           That phrase became familiar, too. I love you. You told him that when you were leaving him, when you were drunk, when he got you food without asking. He smiled every single time, responding that he loved you too. You always told your friends that, though, it was just who you were. It didn’t mean anything other than you valued the friendship you had together. He came with you for Thanksgiving, since he’d never been to one before, and your parents even made him sleep on the couch because they were convinced you two were together. And then there was the night of your friend’s birthday party, and all hell broke loose.

           You were sitting in a circle in your friend Sadie’s room, playing spin the bottle with a bottle of Malibu that you’d all emptied together not long ago. You still had a cup of half Malibu and half sprite in front of you. Sadie had to kiss her roommate, Allie, and a couple other roommates had done the same thing. It was just a peck, so it was whatever. You’d spun it, though, and of course it landed on Tom. His face got red, immediately, but he playfully patted his lap and you giggled, walking over to him, and his legs were crossed as you got on your knees to match his level. You cringed a little as he reached out for you and finally kissed you. It was just a peck, like most of them were, but you could tell that he didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want to pull away.

           You lasted through most of the party and decided to leave once you were sobering up. Of course he came with you, and when he put his hand on your back to lead you out of the dorm you couldn’t help but look back at him.

           “Sorry the bottle landed on you,” you apologized. “We’re the only co-ed roommates on our hall and of course it ended up on us.” He shrugged.

           “It’s spin the bottle. Doesn’t mean anything unless you want it to.”

           “Unless I want it to?” You stopped on an empty sidewalk underneath a lamp-post, turning around to look at him. In the low, yellowed light you could see that his face was changing colors, and suddenly the heat rose to your cheeks and you were burning up in the sweatshirt you were swearing. Tom’s sweatshirt. Again.

           “I mean…”

           “Be honest with me for just five fucking seconds,” you said. “Would you have done that if we were both sober?”

           “I am sober, Y/N,” he insisted. “I am. And if you won’t lie to me I won’t lie to you, alright? Have you noticed how I always say I love you too? Or I bring you coffee and I know your order, have you ever considered why? Or did you consider at all why I came and got you at two in the morning at that party?” He walked a few feet in front of you when there was another set of people walking down the sidewalk. He paused to let them through and then looked over at you again. You were freezing in the sweatshirt. It was December, what were you thinking?

           “I thought…” You took a deep breath. “I thought. But I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t say anything. And now you’re telling me you’re doing all of this for a reason and I want to believe that you like me, but it’s so complicated, and…” Before you knew what was happening, he was closing the gap between you. His hand went behind your head and his other one splayed across your stomach, pressing you up against the lamp-post in front of you, and he kissed you. This time, it wasn’t a peck. This time, he didn’t pull away. He kissed you for a few minutes and you kissed back, and you only parted when you heard another set of people about to walk by.

           “Are you sure now?” You nodded, panting a little. He’d left you out of breath and the air outside was so cold that you could see it.

           “Yeah,” you said quietly, reaching out to take one of his hands.

           “I like you, Y/N. Roommate or not, I do, and I can guarantee I still would even if I didn’t live with you.” You smiled at him a little.

           “What is this, The Prince & Me?” You asked out loud. He looked slightly confused. “It’s a movie, where this guy comes to college in America and…”

           “I know the movie.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks again. “So…” You started walking again and so did he.

           “So?” You looked at him. “Tom, are you sure? Are you sure you want this? And it isn’t too complicated? Because we live together, what if we fight?”

           “Then we talk it out. Come on, Y/N. We can make a King sized bed with our beds put together.” You laughed.

           “Is that the only reason why?” He grabbed your waist and squeezed it, making you laugh a little.

           “No. I love hearing you laugh, is one of them.” You reached the dorm, finally, and rode the elevator up to your room.

           You went back to the room and immediately started moving your furniture together. You talked about going into the city to get brunch as your first official date as you tucked in a set of sheets. This time when he went to change his shirt you didn’t turn away, and he didn’t get mad when you reached for one of his shirts to sleep in. You smiled to yourself as you settled in beside him, assuming the position of the little spoon, as he picked a movie to pretend to watch.

           “Good night, girlfriend,” he said in your ear.

           “Good night boyfriend,” you replied with a smile on your face.  He squeezed your waist again and you smiled, thanking your lucky stars that you’d gotten the co-ed dorm that year.

A/N: I loved this request so much! Thank you for sending it in!

Taglist (if you’d like to be added, let me know!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

[msbarrows]

Quilla, My Bestest Town Ever!

So after saying in the tags on my Banished post that went up Wednesday morning that I didn’t think there were many more of the accomplishments I wanted to try for, I promptly went and had a super-playthrough that got me 27 of the 36 possible, leaving me at 34 of 36. Holy crap this was a good town.

Started playing Wednesday afternoon, played through until it was already Thursday, then Thursday afternoon resumed, and continued playing until late Thursday evening. I initially had fairly minor plans; I wanted to try for Isolationist (300 citizens without building a trading post) and decided to combine it with One With Nature (400 citizens without building fields, orchards, or pastures) so I wouldn’t be wanting seeds or livestock, and therefor wouldn’t be tempted to build a trading post to trade for same. In looking further down the list of accomplishments, I figured that since I wouldn’t have a ton of villagers tied up in farming and animal husbandry, I might as well also try for the Miner and Mason accomplishments (have two mines or two quarries respectively, with 30 employees at each for 3 years - which seemed weird since mines and quarries only need 15 employees each (more on this later)). And then since I’d be doing so much mining and quarrying without using the results as trade goods... well, I might as well try for a few accomplishments based on those resources, like Blacksmith (equip a population of 200 with steel tools for 4 years), Highwaymen (build a town with 2000 stone paved road tiles) and Built From Stone (build a town with 100 stone houses).

Since I was trying for One With Nature, I also decided to start in hard mode, which gives you just 4 families, nothing pre-built, and no seeds or livestock. But to make things a trifle easier on myself I also went for a large map and a mild climate. And thus started Quilla (first screenshot). Using the stuff I’d learned up in earlier playthroughs, I laid out major building sites ahead of time (second screenshot), and it wasn’t long before I was creating my first extension on the other side of the river that zig-zagged through my map (third screenshot). I achieved Isolationist within the first 50 years, and ditto One With Nature. Along the way I’d also picked up Educated (Fully educated population of at least 200 adults for 4 years).

Now that I could build a trading post, I decided to aim for Farmer as well (have access to all 3 livestocks, 8 fruit & nut trees, and 8 crop types), because even with all the building I was doing, I had tons of trade goods available (fourth screenshot). At this point I was checking for other accomplishments I might as well knock off if conditions were right, like Golden Gate Bridge (a bridge at least 50 tiles in length - fifth screenshot). I achieved Built From Stone, Highwaymen, and Blacksmith, in the course of which I also knocked off Stonework (produce 10,000 blocks of stone within a 100 year period) and Ready for Anything (Simultaneously stockpile 2000 logs, 2000 fuel - not sure if that was firewood or coal or both - 500 stone, 500 iron, 200 tools, 200 coats, and 30k food). And that was the end of the first very lengthy playsession.

Today (Thursday, when I’m tyoing this, though it won’t be posted until Friday morning) I settled in to see what else I could manage to accomplishment. I hit Lumberjack pretty soon after (produce 10k logs within a 100 year period), and all my trading also saw Farmer finished off:

With that is was super-easy to get Food Variety (plant all types of fields and crops and harvest same within a single year... which sounds tricky once you know orchards take several years of growth before they start producing fruit and nuts, but is actually ridiculously easy if you already have mature orchards of all of them). You can see the cluster of orchards and fields I planted specifically for the accomplishment in the lower right area of the eigth screenshot (seventh shows how many carefullly-spaced-out docks I was developing along the river... and this is just one small stretch of them).

Along in there I also got Village (population of 600 citizens), Stylish (population of over 200 with warm coats for 4 years), Smelter (produce 10k iron within a 100 year period).

Now I was very purposefully setting up conditions for specific accomplishments I hadn’t originally planned on, like Exports (stock a trading post with at least 500 ale, 300 steel tools, and 200 warm coats), Master Builder (build a town with 3 churches, 5 boarding homes, 4 markets, 5 hospitals, 2 trading posts, 6 taverns, and a town hall), Master Trader (trade 100k units of stuff in one town - basically I bought a lot of stuff whether or not I technically needed it atm). I rolled over the 100 year mark and got Established (town of at least 300 citizens after 100 years). In fact shortly after that I got Town (reach a population of 900 citizens) because I also decided to take advantage of a couple large nomadic groups to get Immigrants (allow 200 nomads into a single town).

Then I also got Jack of All Trades (town of over 200 people with someone working in every profession for at least 5 years) and Livestock (have a town with at least 60 cattle, 75 sheep, and 180 chickens).

By this point I’d given up on the Miner and Mason accomplishments; I just couldn’t get conditions right for them, no matter what I tried, even after consulting google to try and figure out what I was doing wrong. By this point my town was bustling enough (and trading enough) that I needed more than just two mines and two quarries. So I gave up, built a bunch more of both... and a few years later got the accomplishments!? I think what the wording on them should have said was something along the lines of “have at least two mines/quarries, and at least 60 employees total working for 3 years” to get it. Because it sure didn’t happen when I had just two of each with 30 extra employees.

The final two accomplishments I gathered in were Tombstone (fill graveyards with at least 400 graves) and Firefighter (build 20 wells in a single town).

There’s just two accomplishments left, and I really, really do not feel like trying for either of them right now; one of them is 300 citizens without ever building a school (which I may attempt at some future date), and the other is having a population of 500 after 200 years. I... very much don’t feel like ever playing for 200 years - this town or a new one - especially considering I have already reached > 900 citizens. So I’m probably finished with Banished for now, since I have so many other games I picked up in the Steam summer sale to try out.

Though this was an extremely enjoyable (if lengthy) town to play.

[hellguarded-a]

Morning Anon!! It's been a while, but I see you're feeling a bit down and definitely you deserve praise and admiration!! I've been reading all your cute hc's about Ignis and he's very cute and very inspiring. Tell us about how you came up with such a good concept!? One day I'll stop being shy and intimidated, and approach you for writing! Until then, know that I really enjoy you and your content and art on my dash! Please keep up the good work, you're doing wonderful!

ahah oh well i think that’s a little exaggeration but uhhHH sure history of this character go--

THREE YEARS AGO.  slowly creeping up on four, some fandom drama made me go fandomless, although i felt absolutely idea-less at the time and felt like i couldn’t really come up with a brand-new concept from the scratch, so i actually went through an extensive list of mythological monsters n was like...  what do i want to write...  because i was dead-set on writing a monster boy like the disappointment that i am

so i wanted something...  not just a species, but some specific creature from mythology and settled on cerberus.  so that’s what i originally wrote.  same url and everything.  was more fitting back then i think, but its still alright and i’m attached to it.  especially when i later saw someone using the url hellgvarded so i was like hehe i did it first

so, cerberus, right.  meaning i wanted to do something funky with some sort of split personality thing given the three heads n such.  well i...  couldn’t do it?  but partially i blame the fact that i couldn’t really connect with his muse in general, nor the world i put him in.  my plotting  /  shipping partner at the time didn’t really help that much.  it was very dull, set in a more cyberpunk-ish setting as compared to a modern parallel to today’s world as his canon is now, he was even supposed to have some cybernetic implants and such, not that i ever decided on those.  admittedly, that part then fuelled shinjou’s focus on that, but i digress.  his human alias was still ignis, his lover at the time was called  noctis  ( hint hint as to how i drew inspo for his brother lmao but really the name is the only connection because i liked the duality )  and he was still some sort of secret agent  /  police force thing, although i never decided on how he’s gotten to earth in that incarnation.  basically he really had no background or anything to him besides that.

so i abandoned that blog due to my inability to connect, and also partially because i managed to feel so completely overwhelmed on it within two days as it literally  exploded.  the promo got such immense traction for w/e reason that i had 200 followers within those two days, which sure it stroked my ego a lil but at the same time?  well first off, it barely let me settle in and also made me feel awful because i felt like i owed ppl a lot...  and i didn’t want to disappoint.  so many ppl jumped in on that concept and????  i actually didn’t have any muse for it?????  so rip.

so i dipped after that and made the  kitsune twins.  which stayed with me for another 2-3 years so i’d call that a success.  i still off-handedly write them on discord and at least one of them is actually important to ig’s canon.  or rather, i eventually revisitted ig to make him a plot device for  shinjou.  before  that, however, he still existed in the back of my mind in a prototype of what  the gonchiye  is today.  the gonchiye actually gave me a platform to revamp a lot of my old muses which i’m actually rly happy about, but.  anyway, back then it was a german-based organization called  die jagdhunde  ( same deal lmao )  but instead of being entirely supernatural based it was a group of humans actually hunting the supernaturals due to supersitions and stuff like that.  sometimes they’d capture some of them and force them to work for them, ig being one of those,  kalisha  being another.  it’s what made me lowkey ship them, but in the end ig ended up having a strong male preference so him and lisha are just kinda like bff’s in their current canon.  by then, i simply had ig as a regular hellhound rather than being cerberus himself as i wanted him to be  mine  rather than being a known mythology being, but he had no background nor development beyond the fact that he was  always  supposed to be a  mature, gentlemanly, but somewhat uptight individual with fire and shadow magic and the ability to phasewalk.  that’s all i had on him.

but again, i tend to hyperfixate so it didn’t become much more than a simple concept like many others, as i focused on the order of the lotus and the twins’ story.  but you know.  eventually i reached a stalemate and i had a lot of background for  shinzou,  but not his brother.  so that’s how the gonchiye became to be, being based on an ancient supernatural pit-fighting organization of which jou was once part of.  i involved  lucius  in all that, made him be the big bad, etc etc, and then had jou be bought off by the yakuza so that’s how he was raised.  i then really wanted a plot for him of infiltration and betrayal, but instead of making a whole new muse for that, i just took one of my old concepts and used that instead.  which was ig.

ig’s muse was also spurred by nata’s  ( @hellhunted )  desire to ship him with her falcon splice, which then alone led to further development of the gonchiye and their scientific endeavors.  anyway point being i made ig, as part of the gonchiye, infiltrate shinjou’s yakuza to get him assassinated, and the whole plague thing got added in a bit later, but it worked out alright.  again, one of my older concepts that i had in the twins’ old canon but wanted to reuse because i didn’t want to drop the idea completely.  so that’s how i got more involved in ig’s character, and then i finally lost the twins’ muses completely  ( much to my dismay, i miss them )  so i focused on ig?  it was surprisingly easy to connect to him afterwards and give him some background,  frankly  i don’t remember how i made him be a hellhound  /  fury  crossbreed  ( i do remember it being nata’s idea but i just don’t remember what prompted it ), but i  did  purposelly lowkey base him off of cerberus to stay true to his origins.  maybe it’s a little on-the-nose to have him be the  ‘son of cerberus’  but i’m honestly quite proud of my cerberus hc which makes it very flexible to work with.  similiarly, to how cerberus had an older brother called orthrus, i had always wanted ig to have a brother, so he  always  had a vague concept for one, so  nox  was around for a hot minute but again.  it took me a while to actually do anything concrete with him as a character.  originally, they were both hellhounds.  now ig is a crossbreed and nox is a pureblood fury.

n really then it was just a matter of writing on discord to get him to where he is now ---  i wrote him in private for about a year before bringing him on tumblr, but that’s how he came to be.  heavily inspired by the cerberus as we know him, and then adapted to my impending apocalypse canon.

[ellstersmash]

Three: Sixteen

Fandom: Dragon Age

Pairing: Solas x f!Lavellan (Modern!AU)

Rating: overall E for Explicit | this chapter T for Teen

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--

Athi moves the rearview mirror a fraction of an inch. Returns it to its original position, then back. Tough to tell if her discomfort is due to a misjudged angle or the fact that it’s been more than a year since she’s driven anything other than her bike. Not as if she could have let him drive, though. Not in his current state.

“Take this to Saelac,” Solas murmurs. 

He has his eyes shut, but his thumb is still softly stroking hers the way it has been since she pulled onto the freeway. She expected him to pass out right away, but then this city’s policy on roadwork seems to be: Not if we can help it. Every street is scarred with what must be two decades’ worth of springtime patches, and if he couldn’t sleep through a little bit of air turbulence, he sure won’t manage it here.

“How was your week?” he asks, words quiet and slurring together. Enunciation is hard work.

So she tells him about the bar. About the missing, well, everything, and the cleaning list, and Tali’s prediction that Seggrit will be getting more involved with the day-to-day operations, and how for all that she gripes about it, his absence is what makes her job mostly tolerable. Solas nods where more or less appropriate, sometimes smiling sleepily at her tale from the passenger seat.

She tells him about the houseplant she bought. Remembers she forgot to water it today. Yesterday, too. Fuck.

And she tells him about Sera. About their argument and Dagna moving in, and how odd that will be. How sudden it all is, and maybe destined to be a disaster but worth a try, right? She gets the sudden urge to retreat. Three steps at least away from this talk of people moving in together, of possible futures that they’re far too brand new to traverse, even in conversation, even unrelated to either of them entirely. And maybe he feels it too, because he perks up only to fixate on the rally. Asks her when and where and what's it for and who's in charge and whether or not they got a permit and has the audacity to frown when she admits she won’t be there.

"How unfortunate," he says.

Athi groans."Not you, too."

"Excuse me?"

"Sera already gave me shit about it, so if that's your angle I don't want to hear it."

"I did not intend to ‘give you shit,’ no. I was hoping to invite myself along."

"Really?"

"Yes, it is a worthy cause. I had no idea Sera was such an advocate for social reform."

“Then you don’t know her very well.”

“Clearly I have misjudged her.”

“Why are you interested?”

“Why would I not be?”

She tries not to twist that into an accusation. "You just don't strike me as that kind of guy."

"The kind who cares, or the kind who takes action?"

Eyes on the road, it’s impossible to tell if he’s as offended as he sounds. She shrugs. "Both? Seems like you'd rather dig up the past than fix the future."

“Perhaps you have misjudged me, for I do not see the two as mutually exclusive. Take this next exit, then left at the light.”

The change in subject is a welcome one, but she needs her hand to downshift. Squeezes his before she lets go. Not an apology, not for that, but a no hard feelings. His house is only a few blocks away from here, but that’s as much as she remembers because the streets in this section are laid out in a grid and the corners are basically identical.

“Third one down, take a right.”

The yellow house with the overgrown garden jogs her memory. The plants are sad and brittle and dying now and the last time she passed it was early spring, so the perennials had not yet bloomed and the rest was only partially planted. But it must be a sight to behold in the throes of summer. The colorful pinwheels and kitschy glass butterflies sticking up from the withering stalks imply a love of whimsy, and there’s a small white bench surrounded by unlit lanterns under a nearby tree. She hopes she gets to sit there one day. Hopes the neighbors are friendly.

He has her park in his driveway, nose to the garage and she wonders if he’s filled it with more piles and boxes of dusty books or if he just doesn’t want to bother with the door.

Solas points out the house key for her, then grabs his luggage. Once she realizes the lock is upside-down and gets it open, she flicks the front hall lights on and it’s jarring. The house has that hush which places sometimes get after a prolonged vacancy—an absence of sound to soak up and spit out, and the jingle of his keys in her hand and the scrape of his suitcase on the doorframe are too loud. Like it forgot it was ever lived in. 

But nothing else has changed. Not the clutter in the office. Not the cobweb high in the corner. Not even the slight skew of the painting hanging in the living room. Maybe if they’d made these plans before he had left, he’d have tidied up . . . or maybe not. She doesn’t know him well enough to guess.

“If you do not mind, I have been looking forward to a shower all day,” he says and leans his bag against the wall. Starts down the hall toward the kitchen, then stops so abruptly she nearly runs into him.

“I haven’t kissed you yet,” he says, half epiphany, half confession.

Athi threads her arms around him, pleased to discover the tension between them is gone. “I’m very aware.”

His gaze rests on her lips and he blinks slow, as if the effort to open them again is monumental. When he lowers his face to kiss her it is terribly gentle and maybe it’s not on purpose. Maybe it’s just because he’s tired, but it makes her melt. 

Without a reason not to, her hands wander. Slide over the row of tiny gray buttons on his shirt, push the boundaries of his collar. They graze along his throat and through the short dark hair on his scalp, barely there but for the way it catches on her fingerprints. She presses closer before they part, her dazed and him borderline delirious.

“Ok, go shower,” she urges him. “And don’t doze off in there. I’ll have to make fun of you.”

“After that? It is unlikely I’ll be able to sleep at all.” But his dopey grin belies the truth. “Though if you are concerned for my well-being, you are more than welcome to join me.”

Gods, she never sees it coming. He slides straight from stumbling and sleep-deprived to smooth insinuation like it’s his default setting and she wants to say yes. But she knows better. 

“See, that sounds sexy right up until you’re trying to get to sleep with my hair dripping cold water all over the both of us. Besides, I have some snooping to do.” Teasing, of course. She doesn’t care where he keeps his linens or what lies hidden under his socks.

“By all means, peek anywhere you like. Except the attic, which is strictly off-limits.”

Her eyes light up. “Why, what’s in the attic?”

But he only laughs and heads up the stairs. Pauses halfway up and calls down, “Do you need anything?”

Right on cue.

“I’m good,” she assures him. “Go.”

A sharp squeak is followed by the rush of water through old pipes as she skims the shit on his refrigerator. A coupon for an oil change and receipt from an art supply store. Nothing interesting in the least. His magnets are a confused but equally unenlightening collection of local restaurants’ takeout info and unused metal clips.

A few books sit on the island. Sundered: The Scientific Renaissance of Post-Veil Thedas; The Fade: Fact or Fiction?; and An Exhaustive Documentation of Suspected Elvhen Artifacts Destroyed in the Divine Age. She lifts the cover of the top one, flips pages until she comes to a black business card serving as a makeshift bookmark, scans a few lines:

After their own dark period, the Qunari appear to have focused their collective efforts toward adjusting to these new laws of nature. Extensive, detailed records show rapid technological advancement through experimentation and invention, much of which laid the foundation for generations’ worth of progress. Indeed, many modern conveniences can be traced back to their early successes.

Not exactly light reading. Though pretty typical for him, she suspects. What unsettles her is not the books or the boring refrigerator door. It’s the fact that in all of these rooms—the entryway, the study, the kitchen, the living room—all these living spaces, there are no pictures. Not of anyone. His home is steeped in history, but not his own. She's good at being alone, but at least when she inevitably uproots she takes the memories with her. He has nothing. No drawer full of snapshots to match hers, like some sort of trail to prove his existence.

Maybe they’re just very different people. Maybe he doesn’t feel the need to prove anything. Maybe he isn’t the type to take pictures. Or to keep them. Maybe his memories are painful. Maybe they were lost in some tragic accident that hasn’t come up in conversation yet.

Or maybe she’s reading into stuff she shouldn’t be. Again.

At the top of the stairs are two doors and two doorways. Bathroom’s straight ahead, shower still running. Next to that is a closed door, presumably the attic. The leftmost room is closed as well, but unlocked; there's nothing inside but a few file cabinets. The door to the right hangs open, revealing another bedroom. It is small and tidy with minimal furniture: a dresser and a full-length mirror, and a large bed flush with the corner, the thick crimson comforter slightly rumpled near the pillows on one side as if slept in, then hastily remade. A singular nightstand bears a simple swing-arm lamp.

She hunts through his dresser until she finds his T-shirts. Picks a white one with a logo on it from the middle, between freshly-washed and never-been-used. Not beloved—in case he cares—but not the crisp got-it-for-free-and-couldn’t-throw-it-out kind either. Sheds her clothes that smell like beer and citrus and bitters, all but her underwear and leaves them folded neatly on top of the dresser. Then she pulls on his shirt and knocks on the bathroom door frame.

“It’s open,” he yells, and she rolls her eyes. “Extra toothbrushes are in the lower right drawer, and the toothpaste is behind the mirror.”

“Uh huh,” she answers, but is beginning to regret turning down his offer. The shower curtain is nothing but a clear liner and with no door to keep it in, the steam does blessedly little to conceal his form. There’s still time; for more than a moment she contemplates stripping back down and slipping in, but then he shuts off the water and stretches a dripping arm out for his towel so she goes for the toothbrush instead.

By the time he emerges with that same towel wrapped around his hips, she’s finished and gives his reflection an appreciative glance.

He returns it and tugs on her sleeve. “The Lothering Museum of History will be thrilled to have your endorsement.”

“Why am I not surprised that you don’t have a real shower curtain?”

“This curtain is perfectly sufficient.”

“Hey.” Athi raises her hands and follows him into the bedroom. “Not complaining.”

She also doesn’t complain about the precious seconds between him losing the towel and gaining a pair of pajama pants. He’s fit. Cut, not bulky. Studying old stuff and reading books and attending conferences can’t possibly be a direct line to muscle definition and she wonders what he does to work out. If they could do it together. He doesn’t strike her as a runner, but he might enjoy climbing.

Solas interrupts her plans with a brief kiss, trades the overhead light for the bedside one. Four in the morning is hardly late by her standards, but she can tell as his head hits the pillow that he feels it. He tucks her hair behind her ear and smiles, sleepy and sideways.

“Thank you for coming over.”

Athi turns her head and kisses his fingers and whispers, “Thank you for getting naked.”

She’ll be the funny one forever if it means his nose will always crinkle like that.

“I am sorry that I am not—”

“No.” She presses a thumb to his lips to cut short his apology. “That’s not what I’m here for. Really enjoyed the view, though.”

His face is shadowed by the same light shining in her eyes, but the expression he wears is warm. He hits the switch and the room goes dark. She scoots in closer. Tangles their legs. Wriggles until she’s comfortable. It doesn’t take long, like a sign, or a nod from the universe.

We just fit.

Solas is asleep before she’s even ready to try. There are freckles scattered across his shoulders, constellations to trace while she waits. Tries to match his languid breathing. Thinks about where his pictures went. Almost there, then hits the last and loudest stop on her train of thought’s meandering track, and she’s jolted awake.

The bookmark. The business card. The cleaning and packing up. The answer has been stuffed into the back pocket of her least-favorite jeans for weeks.

Seggrit is selling the fucking bar.

--

She wakes up alone. Sprawled out in sheets that smell like him but without the him they belong to. Adjusting, she stares into the middle distance and listens to a faraway set of sounds—the fridge opens, then shuts, the clink of dishes and creak of the floor.

Seggrit is selling the bar. She has no idea what to do with that news except to tell Tali, have her check the books to confirm. They’ve been behind by at least a month for as long as Athi’s worked there, usually more, and if he’s really going to get rid of the place he’ll have had to catch up.

She rolls out of bed, digs her toes into the carpet. It could be nine or noon or later for all she knows. The sun here is strange, and there’s no clock in this room to tell her so she goes searching for one downstairs.

A mosaic-faced antique by the sliding door claims it’s noon.

“Good morning,” Solas says from the kitchen.

She mumbles something resembling words. Seven more steps and she hugs him from behind and they fit so well and his heart is beating fast and he stops whisking eggs to stand there with her all quiet and it’s not morning anymore and he should have stayed in bed and she needs to text Tali and—

“I want coffee,” she whines. Doesn’t mean to whine, but there it is. What if he doesn’t have any? What if he’s one of those people that doesn’t keep coffee in their house?

She might cry.

“There is a bag in the cupboard at the end there, next to the mugs. I was going to make it for you, but—”

“Say no more.”

Gods, she’s glad he didn’t. No one makes it strong enough, and he’s too cute to disappoint so she would have had to drink it anyway. Pretend that pisswater was fine.

Cupboard on the end, right where he said. She slides it off the shelf and can’t help but flutter as she examines the packaging. It’s the same as the ones she bought—or tried to buy then he bought for her—at the coffee shop last year. Or maybe he just asked for “something strong” at the shop and this happened to be what they gave him, but regardless, he thought of her and that feels good all on its own. Her butterflies settle as she opens the bag, breathes in deep. Pours a generous pile into a fresh filter and fills the reservoir with water.

“Roast date on this is yesterday. Did you really leave me sleeping alone in your house?” she teases and pushes the button to start the brew cycle. “What if I had woken up and you were gone?”

“I did consider that possibility, but weighed against the certainty of the alternative, it seemed the wisest course of action.” He arches an eyebrow. “Was I wrong?”

“No.” Athi revisits the cupboard to shuffle through his assortment of mismatched mugs. “And thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

She selects one of the mugs, a pleasantly rounded stoneware dip-painted in orange and teal and gray. Her unofficial favorite. There is a newspaper, folded twice, laying on the counter between a plate covered in foil and two clean ones. Solas is reading rather than cooking. Maybe he’s fine with rubbery eggs, but she’s not so she leaves her mug to watch the coffee brew, plucks the spatula from his hand, takes over.

“Seggrit’s selling the bar,” she blurts out as she gently stirs, then scoops a heaping golden spoonful onto each plate. “I think.”

To his credit, Solas looks up from the article he’s so engrossed in. “Really?”

She nods.

“How do we feel about that?”

She shrugs.

“Perhaps you should buy it,” he says and moves his plate and his paper to the island. Yanks open the silverware drawer and hands her a fork. “You wanted to put your name on something, right?”

She snorts. “Didn’t mean literally.”

They eat breakfast right there in the kitchen. Hip to hip, or as close as she can get. Sausage from under the foil and rich maple syrup and toast and almost-perfect scrambled eggs and coffee he bought and didn’t make just for her.

Not a bad morning, truth be told.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Solas asks out of nowhere.

“Hmm?”

He is watching her intently and it occurs to her that she’s been grinning at empty space this whole time.

“Oh,” she says, “it’s nothing,” but her face won’t cooperate and Solas doesn’t buy it.

“It must be quite a pleasant piece of nothing to warrant such a smile. Are you sure it’s not something?” His voice drops low and he leans closer. “Perhaps even something you want to share with me?”

“They say 'bits' here, by the way. ‘Two bits for your thoughts.’ Just so you know.”

“Fascinating.” He doesn’t even pretend to sound sincere.

Oh, she wants to be brave. She makes him work a little harder for it. Keeps it locked up tight until he says please, then she scrunches her nose up where the honesty tickles, and spills even though it’s scary.

“I just . . . it’s nice waking up with you, and”—damn her burning cheeks—“I could get used to it. That’s all.”

Meeting his eyes afterward is a rush. Risk and reward all wrapped up in one because he is beaming right back at her.

“Funny. I was thinking the exact same thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Fuck it. Athi polishes off her coffee. Slides her plate away and faces him fully. Fills her chest with air and bravado. “So what do you want?”

He looks at her quizzically.

“Yeah, context. Before we kissed—at my place, like for real—you asked what I wanted. I said I wanted you, which, I mean, I’ve wanted you since . . . ” She wants to say since the beginning but that’s so fucking cheesy. “Gods, since the coffee shop, I think. But when I asked what I meant to you, you deflected.”

Solas pauses. His gaze drifts, then snaps back. “You are right. I apologize.”

“Also not an answer.”

A full minute, or maybe an hour, passes as he percolates. She can almost see him directing his thoughts this way and that, organizing a response that shouldn’t be this complicated while her own mind skitters from one unsavory possibility to the next. 

“Should’ve sent my questions in ahead of time,” she jokes.

A brief, self-deprecating chuckle as he folds his fingers around hers. “In all fairness, your answer to the same question was efficient, but also vague. Is it so wrong of me to consider my own more carefully?”

“Got me there.”

“I was not trying to win. This conversation is an important one, and I feel it must be approached with both candor and subtlety.”

Candor and subtlety? Athi sighs. New tactic. “Listen, did you avoid the question on purpose?” 

She takes a steady breath—

“No.”

—and lets it out. “Well then, to be honest, I was kind of hoping we could make out at some point today so . . . how about we put the heavy conversation on hold, just for now, and I return the favor and make this easy for you?”

Solas’ smile is indulgent, if a bit weary. “That would be fine.”

“Good. Ok.” She leans her chin on one hand. “Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Like, not just sleeping over and having breakfast, even though we’re obviously really good at that. The whole deal.”

He smirks. “Yes.”

“Only me?”

“Yes.”

Athi claps her hands together. “Good! Excellent response time,” she says, satisfied. Stacks their dishes while she speaks. “Anything else to add?”

“That’s it? That is all you want to know?” A mixture of relief and disappointment is plain on his face.

“Ha! Cute. No, see, I want to hear that elaborate answer of yours, I do. I want to know absolutely every single thought you’ve had about me since day one. Also why you stopped coming to the bar”—she starts counting off on her fingers—“and how long you’ve felt this way, what you and Bull get up to at your secret little club meetings, about a zillion other things . . . But as I said,” and she shrugs, “I have plans.”

“I stopped coming to the bar because I already felt this way. Not”—he gestures between them—“exactly this way, of course, but the first stirrings of it. I had been alone a long time, and it frightened me. Next question.”

“Hold on. Same question. You’ve liked me that long?”

“Yes, though I find it hard to believe that you, of all people, did not notice. If anything, I have been too demonstrative of my feelings this past year. Given the circumstances, that is.”

“Too demonstra— Seriously?” Athi is at a loss. Frozen mid-bewildered-flailing, mouth agape like he’s just grown another pair of eyes right in front of her. “Maybe I, of all people, didn’t notice because we spent all that time together and you never said shit, and then—and then!— you invited me over to ask for dating advice which kind of cancelled out any prior feelings you may have demonstrated. I mean, what the fuck?”

“Ah, that’s right.” Solas sighs heavily. “I suppose we may as well sort this out now.”

“Yeah,” she hisses. “Let’s.” She props one elbow on the counter, rests her chin on her fist. Waits for an explanation.

“Athi,” and he scratches his jaw. “I do not know exactly how you remember that conversation going, but the subject of my inquiry—the woman I mentioned meeting—was you.”

Three beats to process, then: “What!?”

He winces—fair, it was piercing—and he half-hides his face in his hands before continuing. “I was attempting to casually express my interest and it did not occur to me that you’d misunderstood my meaning until recently. At the time, I assumed that you were simply not as interested as I had allowed myself to believe and therefore left before the situation became uncomfortable.”

“Well, I did do that.”

“Then, while I was away, I became convinced that a misunderstanding was possible if not probable, so I resolved to try again once I returned.”

“Oh no . . . ” she trails off and grimaces, and Solas just nods.

Such a mess, and for no fucking reason. They stand there in a dazed silence for a while, looking at anything but each other. Finally, Athi peeks over and Solas has his head hanging low like a puppy shamed for eating from the garbage. It’s so sad and so stupid and she can’t keep from laughing. First a little, then a lot, then he’s laughing right along with her.

“So you’re telling me,” she wheezes out between giggles. “We could have been banging for no less than six months already?”

“I’m afraid so.”

She’s swept away by another wave of laughter. When it finally subsides, she’s left with aching cheeks and tears in her eyes.

“Come on,” she says and grabs his hand, squeezes it tight, pulls him toward the stairs.

“What? Where are we going?”

“To make up for lost time.”

[prorevenge]

The Mean Girls club gets destroyed

So a while back I had the joy of stopping around 5 girls who had been openly using and abusing people. Most of them ended up losing partners and almost all their friends one lost their job two went to jail and they all lost their social status.

So context, years ago I worked in a large corporate store, trust me you would know if I told you the name. Now during this time I was in a dark place emotionally for various reasons and was very much a loaner which led to me being a target for this one girl (let’s call her CS for cos-play slut) now I know it sounds terrible me calling her that but really it’s what she was and trust me as this story goes on you’ll see why.

Now she quickly befriends me and gets me to help with video editing and photo shots I say yes as at the time I was trying to get into content creation and figured it’d help and I was a very lonely depressed virgin at the time and any girl showing interest in me made my brain go crazy. Looking back I kick myself for letting her use me that way but I was stupid and didn’t know better. This girl used me for everything from making me edit videos for her and her friends totaling around 3 or 4 videos a day all with different styles and length to getting up early to help with shoots that had to be done at sun up to get “the magic hour”. (I know it’s a real thing but still not the best thing to spend your day doing when your days off are spent making videos)

As well as using my help for her online stuff she used me for a lot of other things rides to her “meetings” with potential photographers (she never picked her them she was just sleeping with them) to buying her movie tickets that’d she would go to claim being alone with me in a theatre made her nervous so I’d have to wait outside for then I’d have to buy her food on a daily basis at work then if we ever did anything outside of it.

Now I know this sounds like I was the worlds biggest cuck and yeah I was. I had no self confidence as previously stated was a virgin with very little ability to socialize and never learned to choose how and when to give my help. So I was an easy target for all this, my parents tried to warn me against it but i didn’t listen and even at one point told her I liked her only for her to laugh in my face.

This went on for months in that time I quit content creation but was still editing her videos and was always doing something for her. One day while she was having me buy her supplies for another cosplay we ran into another girl whom we will call RB (random bitch) she was nice enough very energetic at first and I felt like we could get along so we exchanged info and became friends on fb. Afterwards CS told me how she was in a relationship and not to try and hit on her not even talk to her because I gave off a “creeper” vibe.

I only mention that interaction before this next one because it is chronological and because it was the first time I can ever trace back to the two of them working together against me. So after that CS starts going after another guy not gonna give him a special name but let’s just say he was terrible I mean really bad. Him and CS meet up once bang them he tells her all these lies about emotional damage and how they have to keep things a secret but still wants to be together. She believes him but he ghosts her she gets worried and has me look into from my end with an old friend. Now here two things happen that to this day I’m happy happened because it let me later on get my revenge the first was I created a second fb account pretending to be a girl the next was CS gave me full access to her fb.

Now like I said this dude was bad news he was cheating on her didn’t even need to catfish him just sent him a friend request and got dp back. Then I learned from some friends he did this serially and then ran across a girl who after I asked her about him responded “that’s the man that raped me don’t contact me again.”

I gathered all this evidence and brought it to CS and she flat out refused to believe it was real claiming I had faked it and was just jealous of him and that she and I were never going to be friends again. I said ok and we stopped being friends.

Now then that was my interaction with CS, after we broke off our friendship I started messaging RB and we became friends little did I know the real story behind them. I’ll be quicker with this than with RB but to put it lightly she was worse she would constantly have me just give her money and buy her things like expensive things. I never felt like I could say no because if I did she would give a sob story about her sad childhood and me being a bleeding heart would cave.

This went on for two years during which time I got a lot better more self confident and a better all around person but i always would go back to my sad self when she would belittle me. Finally I had had enough I told her to stop messaging me and we weren’t friends anymore. She took it hard dragging my name thru the mud at the end of it I had one friend left.

Skip ahead two months and I’m feeling way better I’m smiling more often no longer wanna take my own life and am feeling great. But I was still upset about everything that had happened but couldn’t do anything that was until I got bored one day and was looking thru my phone and saw something interesting. CS’s account was still logged into my phone a second profile. On a lark I tried opening it it let me she hadn’t changed her password and had given it permission to just sign in.

I thought I was just gonna have a weird voyeuristic look into her life but what I found was even worse a fb group that was literally called “Mean Girls Club” in it I found 5 girls including RB and CS all talking about what they were getting guys to buy them and do for them. It was horrid to look at I scrolled up and up and up all the way to the first message and it went back years. I don’t know how but these 5 had been doing it for so long it was crazy.

It was then I started to form a plan. The first thing I did was screen shot everything and when I mean everything I mean I had thousands of pictures from this including but not limited to pictures of stuff they had bought or had bought for them. Nudes of their partners or of people they were interested in and then the biggest one a shared drop box folder filled with pictures and videos of them doing a lot of nasty stuff I mean really bad. Apparently this whole thing was set up so that none of them could stop nor back down at anytime due to the blackmail Dropbox and the fact the rest of the group would back the others.

I know this is crazy to understand but let me put it this way from what I gathered to OG group was a total of 8 girls and 1 guy the numbers that left all were told they would be ruined and boy was it bad. I read about them making some of the people leaving lose their jobs and families falsely accusing the one guy of rape of which if what they said was true he was forced to move to another state because of the rumors.

On top of that they ruined a local store making them go out of business and then getting another guy thrown in jail after they accused him of attacking one of them. I can list plenty of what they did that was bad but mostly all of it was them bragging about guys they were using for stuff and money and what they could get them to buy them. I of course was on there as was everything I ever bought them totaling around 5500 over two years. The two of them CS and RB were so proud of what they did.

I was astonished by what had happened and was honestly very hurt by it all I knew they were bitches but nothing of this level. So I did what anybody would do I turned them against each other. The first thing I did was use my fake profile to enter into the group chat under the guise of a friend of CS’s. Took some time and creative use of the two profiles but I did it then moved onto insight some war by messaging each of them about the others of the course of a month I had them all suspicious of each other with some he said she said then I struck with one reveal.

I sent RB’s bf a message from CS’S profile in sighting them to openly flirt then took a step back and told RB about it. All the while with my fake profile I told CS that RB wanted to burn her by sending out her blackmail then I messaged the rest relaying info on the upcoming conflict telling them to prepare to burn another person if someone else struck (think start of world war 1 but with 20 something girls). 3 hours was all it took from went that past message went out to the first “bomb” fell. It was glorious each one destroying the other telling significant others about lies cheating and theft. Jobs being called about misuse of company property and inappropriate behavior in the work place. Full on sex tapes were posted to tons of porn sites.

It was three months later that the dust cleared everyone but CS had deleted their social media accounts. It was then that CS started in on my fake account demanding for some form a of repayment stating she had never added me to the the group and that no one had had any dirt on me so I was unscathed. I responded with “Well let’s just say I’m a bitch, the names Karma.”

I deleted the profile and lost the login info for CS. I keep the Dropbox stuff though and screenshots since I’m sure if they ever put two and two together they could guess who I was. But now a full year later nothing.

I’ve not been able to know more then the basic repercussions of this sense I didn’t know the other three personally but RB ended up homeless for a few months before going to jail sense some of the blackmail was a video of her doing drugs while skipping a court date about drug use (she openly stated in the video the date and that the courts could suck it and told them later she was helping a friend go thru some hard time to get an extension) jail due to her breaking parole and lying to a judge. CS lost her day job and all but around 30 of over 5k followers as well as her bf who she was cheating on then he back up bf since she was cheating on him with another guy who was just in it for the sex. Last I heard she moved back in with her parents and can’t keep a job due to her running into people who know what happened.

TL:DR Got emotionally and financially used by two girls and then made their mean girl chat destroy each other’s lives.

PS if rslash is reading this hope you know you inspired me to share this because your vids are amazing.

(source) story by (/u/notmine1337)

[ladyknightleyisundercover]

can you please do harry's reaction to ginny being hurt at work? or the other way around? thanks so much, i love your writing!

this is, as ever, utter nonsense and i started it last summer when there was actually a summer in the uk, so sorry sorry for the ridiculous delay and thank you for the prompt and kind words :) ((also, emily, i wrote this with you in mind as the only person who could enjoy christmas in june as much as me)) AO3

It was the longest spell of genuinely hot weather Harry could remember for a long time. Day after day after day of unbroken, blazing sunshine followed by hot, sultry nights. It was fantastic, the kind of once-in-a-generation British summer you heard about but didn’t really believe actually happened. It had also coincided with the quietest part of Ginny’s year: July was between the end of the old Quidditch season, and when training started up for the new season, so she hardly went into work, and, by sheer luck, things were as quiet as they ever got in the Auror Department, too. He’d mentioned this to Ginny the other day, while firing up the barbecue for the eighth day in a row. “Too hot for crimes,” she’d responded, fanning herself with a copy of Witch Weekly.

He was glad. The quietness, combined with the lovely weather, meant that even Gawain Robards was happy for his staff to work at home, as long as they were on call in an emergency. So far, the only emergency Harry had had to contend with had been when they’d headed over to the recently reopened Fortescue’s ice cream parlour only to find out they’d run out of their new Treacle Tart sundae.

Apart from such traumas, he and Ginny had been having a brilliant couple of weeks with each other and with the weather—amazingly—set to hold, he saw no reason for this not to continue. They’d taken Teddy to the seaside a couple of times, but had spent most of the rest of their time at home, just enjoying summer in the city and being together. It was bliss.

Unfortunately, the nice weather meant that he had really been letting his paperwork slip. Realising he had an overdue and extremely important report due that afternoon, Harry had announced his intention to Ginny that he needed to knuckle down before lunch, but that he’d be free later if she wanted to do something. She’d replied vaguely that she, too, had things to do this morning, so he’d very dutifully shut himself in his study with a glass of ice cold lemonade. All had been going well, until a sudden loud crash, accompanied by much swearing, made him pause. “Everything okay?” he called, sticking his head out of the door and calling up the stairs.

“All good!” Ginny’s voice floated down to him, so he returned to work. Except, a second later, he heard, quite distinctly, jingle bells.

Probably just Ginny shifting a few things around upstairs, he reasoned. She’d mentioned the attic, where they kept the Christmas decorations. She must be looking for the other sun lounger which they’d been meaning to dig out for days.

The jingle bells persisted. And then...surely not? That couldn’t be the Celestina Warbeck Christmas Album? Surely not?

But Harry recognised the wailing, and, when it continued, decided to investigate.

“Oh, hello,” Ginny said, beaming at him as he entered the spare bedroom. “Come to get in the mood, too?” This alone would have been ridiculous enough; the fact that she was wearing a reindeer hairband (complete with strap-on bright red nose), tinsel in an assortment of colours draped around her like a several scarves and an absolutely enormous Christmas jumper, left him all but speechless.

The jumper wasn’t even one of the nice, normal ones Mrs Weasley made for the family every year, it was an oversized novelty one which came with a light up Christmas tree and the slogan ‘you’re TREEmendous’ on the front. It was, in short, hideous. He remembered telling her this when she’d bought it, last November. Never one to shy away from the festive season—Ginny was the biggest Christmas person he knew, and would probably have started singing Christmas songs and putting up decorations at the end of September, if he’d let her—she’d immediately purchased it and worn it nearly every day until New Year’s. Though Harry had since completely forgotten about it. Ginny, it appeared, had not. But that still did not explain why she was wearing it in July, in the middle of the hottest, longest heatwave they’d enjoyed in years.

“Promo day!” she exclaimed now, when prompted. Harry frowned in further confusion. “We’re shooting all the new season promotional material for the Harpies tomorrow,” she explained. “As well as the usual team stuff, we’re doing a themed calendar, for charity. The first team and the five main reserves are each get a month and are photographed in suitable seasonal poses for that month and it’s bunged together in a calendar, which goes on sale late this year, all profits to charity. I’m December. I swear I told you about this the other day.”

Harry realised, too late, that she had indeed explained it all to him the other day. The only thing was, she’d done so wearing her brand new bright red bikini and so he hadn’t really been paying her words too much attention. He’d made a joke about it being the sort of calendar where she would wear said bikini, and she’d pretended to be affronted and said no, it was very classy, that they were going for comedy value and she’d be wearing her Christmas jumper.

Now, looking at the jumper again, and seeing how it stretched nearly to her knees, he saw what she meant.

“Wait a minute, though,” he added. “You just happened to get December?”

Ginny grinned. “I did ask,” she said. “But everyone knows how much I love Christmas, so, really, it couldn’t go to anyone else. I’d have gone off to join the Cannons in a huff if they hadn’t allowed it.”

“Well, I’m glad that you work with people who are good enough to understand your Christmas obsession,” he said, laughing. “But really, this is ridiculous. It gets earlier every year, you know!”

“What does?” she asked.

“When the decorations come out, when you start with the Christmas songs...” he gestured towards her, still laughing. “Honestly! Last year I said mid-November was too early. Now, it’s July! What’ll it be next year, March?”

“Nah, next year we just won’t bother taking down the decorations, and we’ll have them up year round,” Ginny replied, shaking her head. “You’ll see, you’ll come round!”

“It’s too early! The rules say the first of December, and—”

“The rules? Who are you, the Christmas Police? Percy?!”

“Percy?! Too far, too far!” he exclaimed, and lunged towards her, trying to lasso her with a strand of tinsel. And then, of course, it descended into something else entirely, and the report did not get written.

*

The next day, he was making a much better go at it. The heatwave continued, but the weather had clearly put Gawain Robards in a good mood as he had very graciously allowed Harry and extension on the report.

Having packed Ginny off with her hideous jumper, the ridiculous reindeer headband and an enormous cardboard box containing much of their Christmas decorations (“I can’t trust the PR team to bring out the good baubles, you know?” she’d said, looking determined) he had actually used the time to work on the report. Dull as it was, it was at least done, he realised, feeling pleased as he checked his watch. It was nearly lunchtime, which meant that Ginny would be done soon. Perhaps they’d go down to the beach at Shell Cottage later, maybe pick Ted up, too...

As he thought this, he heard the floo spring to life in the other room, so he put down his quill and sauntered in. “Mr Potter?” he heard, while still in the hallway.

He broke into a run.

For security reasons, only a very small number of fireplaces were connected to the floo at his and Ginny’s place. Most people who had access were either related to them, or might as well be. None of those people would address him as Mr Potter. The only people who might would be someone from work, contacting him about an emergency, or someone from the Harpies, calling about—

“Harry. Hi.” Gwenog Jones’s face, looking grim, was sat in his fireplace. “Listen, you’d better come through. It’s Ginny. She’s in the medical wing.”

*

“What do you mean, she just collapsed?” Harry demanded of the photographer, who shrank back, alarmed.

“I dunno!” he replied, wringing his hands. “She was just there...on the broom...and then she wasn’t.”

Harry gave him a withering look. He was seriously contemplating suggesting that the Harpies’ PR team fire him and replace him with his assistant, who had had the foresight to place cushioning charms on the ground to help break Ginny’s fall while also summoning the medical team. Nicola—the assistant—had explained that they had been trying several different poses but had eventually decided on one where Ginny, decked out in Christmas attire and the Harpies’ signature cape, flew up to the Christmas tree to place an angel at its top. They had done this quite a few times, as the photographer hadn’t been satisfied with any of his shots so far, when Ginny all of a sudden slumped forward and tumbled off her broom in a faint.

She had come round, somewhat, before being stretchered into the medical rooms, at which point Gwenog had been dispatched to fetch Harry, who was listed as her emergency contact. Now, he was with Gwenog in the waiting room, and the photographer and his assistant had just come in. Nicola looked genuinely concerned about Ginny; the photographer looked more concerned about the possibility of his having damaged the Harpies’ star chaser and the impact of this on his future work for the team.

“So d’you reckon she’ll be back today, or should I pack up my equipment?” he asked. Fortunately—for him, or Harry might have punched him—one of the team’s Healers stepped into the waiting room, and he and Nicola made themselves scarce.

“All is well,” she said, holding up her hands to both Harry and Gwenog’s demands. “Mr Potter, I presume?”

Harry nodded. “Ginny’s okay?”

“She is, yes. My name’s Hannah, I’m the lead Healer for the Harpies. We’ve run various tests on Ginny, but it seems that what happened was simply a benign case of heat exhaustion,” she explained. “With the weather being what it is; the multiple layers she was wearing; the airlessness of the room and the photographer’s lighting charms, it seems that everything got a bit much for Ginny and it caused her to faint. Fortunately, the cushioning charms meant she sustained no other damage, and now we’ve cooled her down and ensured she’s got plenty of fluids inside her, we have no concerns about this being anything more serious.”

Harry exhaled hugely. “Thank you,” he said fervently, but Hannah brushed it off.

“Not at all; it’s my job,” she said simply. “As I say, we’ve cooled her down and she’s getting plenty to drink, but we’ll want to monitor her vitals for another hour or so before you take her home. She’s to not overexert herself, and remain cool and well hydrated for at least the next twenty four hours but this is certainly nothing long lasting. Of course, if you become concerned about anything do get in touch immediately, but there is nothing to worry about at this stage.”

“Can I see her?” asked Harry.

“Of course,” said Hannah, gesturing for him to follow her. Gwenog indicated that she would remain where she was and give the two of them some time together. Harry was glad—even though he was fully assured by Hannah that this was nothing more than a mild case of heat exhaustion, his alarm had been considerable and he wanted to see her to know she was really okay. It wasn’t the first injury she’d had at work, and it wasn’t the worst, either, but even so, the panic he had felt when Gwenog first appeared in his fireplace wasn’t fully gone even now.

Hannah led him down a long corridor, but he could see into Ginny’s room as the door to it was open. She was sat up in bed, wearing a hospital gown, but seemed quite perky; she was holding a large glass of iced water and laughing about something with another medical attendant. She waved at Harry, spotting him coming up the corridor, and he resisted the temptation to break into a run and hurl himself onto the bed next to her.

Once they arrived, Hannah explained to Ginny that they would want to monitor her vitals for another hour or so but if everything remained as it was, she’d be able to go home at the end of that hour. “However,” Hannah added, picking up a clipboard suspended in mid-air, onto which a quill was making continual notes, “everything looks fine to me. Call us if you need anything, but I’ll leave the two of you alone for now.”

“Thank you so much,” Ginny said, looking between Hannah and the other Healer, who nodded. “I’m so sorry to have been so much trouble, but you’ve both been wonderful. Thank you.” She sounded, to Harry, just as she normally did, and he was almost completely certain that she would be fine.

“Just doing our jobs,” said Hannah, brushing this off, then the Healers left.

“Thank Merlin you’re okay,” Harry said, barely waiting until they were out of the room to dive towards the bed and gather her up in his arms. He inhaled the smell of her, that familiar, floral smell which brought him so much comfort, and held her close for several minutes. Just being there, sat on the bed with her, was enough to soothe away the last vestiges of panic.

Eventually, he broke away, leaning back, only to be confronted by a look of utter moroseness on her face. She seemed so upset that he was immediately catapulted back into a state of panic, looking around for Hannah and her team of Healers, certain that she must be in more pain than she was letting on. “What is it, what’s the matter?” he demanded.

“Oh Harry,” she replied, in a near wail. “It’s terrible!”

“What is, what’s the matter?” he asked. “Do you need me to get the Healers?”

“I’ll never live it down,” she continued, as though he hadn’t spoken.

“What? Oh, no, of course you will. Everyone gets a little overheated every now and then, and fainting’s perfectly normal in that situation. As long as nothing more serious is the matter, and the Healers were sure that you’re fine other than that, then I don’t see—”

“It wasn’t the falling off my broom,” she said, waving the hand holding the water glass and nearly sloshing ice all over him. “That would happen to anyone who fainted. It was the heat.” She gestured over to the corner of the room, where a chair was piled high with her clothes—the Harpies cape, draped over the back of it; jeans; a tank top; and the enormous, hideous Christmas jumper.

“I’m not surprised you got too hot in all that,” Harry said. “It’s thirty-three degrees today, plus whatever else inside that room with all the photography equipment. Honestly, it was irresponsible of them to—”

“Harry!” she said, widening her eyes dramatically. “You don’t understand! It’s Christmas. It’s betrayed me!”

“...what?!”

“I fainted because I got overheated, and I overheated because I was wearing my Christmas jumper! Christmas has betrayed me!”

He laughed out loud at the distressed expression on her face. “Well, if you want to get technical, I guess it was just that one jumper that betrayed you, not Christmas as a whole, and really if you are going to wear an enormous great big woolly thing on the hottest day of July, I really don’t—”

“Christmas! Has! Betrayed me!” Ginny cried, ignoring his reasonableness. “Me! I will never live this down,” she added dramatically, then reached out and clutched his arm. “Promise me one thing, Harry.”

He raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face.

“Promise me...” she closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. “Promise me you’ll not tell George and Ron. They’ll never let me forget it!”

He laughed, all set to agree, when a thought suddenly occurred to him. He pursed his lips, sitting up straighter on the hospital bed, and Ginny shrank back against the pillows. “Uh oh,” she said quietly.

“I promise that I won’t tell anyone about how you got heat exhaustion because Christmas betrayed you—”

“Oh, thank you darling, that’s just what I—”

“If you,” he continued loudly, interrupting her interruption, “if you agree that, this year, Christmas does not start in our house until the first of December. Last year, we practically had the tree up the day after Bonfire Night—”

“That’s an exaggeration!”

“Only a minor one,” Harry said. “Seriously. Christmas begins on the first of December. No decorations, no songs, no gnomes dressed up like angels, no light up jumpers, nothing festive until the first. After that point, anything goes. If you can stick to it, I’ll not say a word to anyone about today. If you can’t...” He trailed off, giving a faux-nonchalant shrug.

She exhaled forcefully, blowing several strands of hair around her face and glared at him. “You are so going on the naughty list this year.”

He winked. “That’s what I’m hoping!”

[thedeaditeslayer]

A conversation with cult movie favorite Bruce Campbell.

Here’s a very short and general interview with Bruce Campbell.

Playing the Frankenstein monster was the smartest professional decision film actor Boris Karloff ever made. The same can be said for Bela Lugosi, who agreed to portray Count Dracula first on stage and then in the movies. But Karloff was in his mid-forties when fortune smiled on him, and Lugosi had just turned 50. By contrast, Bruce Campbell was just 29 when he became associated with the horror film franchise that would change his life.

As a teenager growing up in Michigan, Campbell was already acting and making his own 8mm movies when he met kindred spirit Sam Raimi in high school. The two became friends over their shared love of film and were soon creating increasingly elaborate productions with Campbell in front of the camera and Raimi in the director's chair.

Their collaborations eventually yielded a 30-minute horror film called "Within the Woods." Campbell and Raimi thought the film could be made into a full-length film for theatrical release – if only they had the money to pull it off. They convinced family, friends and some Detroit businessmen to fund the project, eventually raising $350,000. The film, now called "Evil Dead," was completed in 1981.

The only problem was no theater wanted to show it.

Instead "Evil Dead" debuted in England on video where it rose to number one in 1983. After writer Stephen King pronounced it "the most ferociously original horror film of the year," New Line Cinema released it in the U.S. "Evil Dead" was so successful that it spawned a sequel, "Evil Dead II," in 1987 and another, called "Army of Darkness," in 1992.

In between those films, Campbell reveled in his newfound career, making appearances in Raimi-directed films such as "Crimewave," "Darkman" and "The Quick and the Dead" as well as films by the Coen brothers, John Carpenter and others. His hilarious bits in Raimi's three Spider-Man films with Tobey Maguire and his portrayal of Elvis Presley in the horror comedy "Bubba Ho-Tep" are further indications of why Campbell has such a huge B-movie fan following.

Campbell will be in Milwaukee on Saturday, Sept. 28 at The Pabst Theater in support of his new book, "Make Love! The Bruce Campbell Way." He'll tell stories from his career and take questions from the audience after a screening of "Evil Dead II." Prior to the show, though, Campbell shared some life experiences with OnMilwaukee.

OnMilwaukee: You began your career as an actor, but since then you've become a screenwriter, an author and a producer as well as doing voiceover work for animated films and video games. What's your professional title?

Bruce Campbell: It's easiest to just call myself an entertainer. It covers all that stuff you just mentioned.

I know you work very hard at being Bruce Campbell, but you make it all look effortless.

It's pretty simple. I love what I do. Yes, I work hard, but that's the only way to get where you want to go. Was I lucky? Sure, to a certain extent – but working at something is more effective than luck. People can talk themselves out of anything if they want to. "Oh, I'm not smart enough" or "I'm not good enough." Nobody's talented at first. I just figured it out.

Is that how you and Sam Raimi got to make the "Evil Dead" film?

I think we benefitted immensely from being together at that time. And we had a little group of friends that traded off working on each other's movies. Remember: We grew up in a time when a kid could be a kid. Those were the days when you'd leave the house in the morning and show up again around supper time. We were free-range kids. No programmed activities, no cell phones, no computers and, most importantly, no fear. We weren't afraid to fail. We were just motivated. Period.

You must have been motivated because the money you raised to make the film was a sizable figure at that time.

You bet. But we had a plan and we stuck to it. We chipped away at it slowly but surely. One of our friends had a lawyer in the family, and through that connection, we learned how to raise money the right way. We formed a legal entity with investment contracts, and we sold shares. No bullsh*t. This was all above board. For $5,000, you could buy a half share; for $10,000, a full share. $5,000 was the minimum buy-in. My mom bought in – and you know what, every year she gets a check for $11,000, and she's gotten one like that for the last 40 years. I'm proud to say that all the original investors in "Evil Dead" have made 35 times their money back as of today.

Your mom gets $11,000 every year?

That's right. I called her a few months ago and asked what she bought with the money this time. She was so excited because she bought new Anderson windows for her house!

As an actor, you've worked for A-list directors like Sam Raimi and John Carpenter. What's it like being on their set?

Well, Sam's a friend, of course, and I've worked with him a lot. But on the set, he's all business, a real tough guy. The first day of a shoot, he'll be yelling at everyone – including me – making sure that every little thing is in order. By the next day, he's calmed down, and it's more like we're pals again.

I only made one film with John Carpenter: "Escape from L.A." He was deadly serious on the set. He gave me one direction on how he wanted me to play my part and then walked away. I never spoke to him again.

Do you depend on relationships like those to get your next job?

To some extent, sure. But I've amassed a body of work in film and TV that speaks for itself. I used to go to all the parties in town, but I quickly realized that Hollywood is full of phonies, and they all go to those parties too. When I'm talking with someone, I want them to look me in the eye, not be constantly glancing around the room to see who just came in. I'll do a legitimate audition for anyone that's interested in casting me for a part, but I don't like playing the games. I moved to Oregon in 1998 so I didn't have to be in Hollywood on a daily basis.

At one time, you had a project called "Bruce vs. Frankenstein" in pre-production. Is that one still going to happen?

(Laughs) I'm not sure. "Bruce vs. Frankenstein" was conceived as a sequel to "My Name is Bruce," which was a spoof of the stuff I'd done to that point. I wanted to make this one like "The Expendables" of horror films and get as many stars as I could to be in it.

What can the audience expect at the Milwaukee show next week?

There's the screening of "Evil Dead II," which was the promoter's choice. That's consistent. But when I get on stage, it all depends on what the audience wants. Some of what I'll talk about will be extensions of things I've done at Comic-Con, but I don't ever want to be boring so I let the fans take the show and the discussion where they want it to go.

You have a new book about things that have happened since you wrote "If Chins Could Kill." Will you talk about that at the show?

Of course! "Make Love! The Bruce Campbell Way" is my first novel. I'll be signing copies for everyone. (Laughs) At the conventions, I sign quite a few boobs too! My hand used to shake when I did that, but over the years, I've gotten rather good at it. It's like eye surgery. I've only blown a few.

If you hadn't gotten the opportunities afforded you by the success of the "Evil Dead" franchise, what might you be doing for a living now?

I love the outdoors. I'd be a park ranger, yelling at kids to stop smoking dope in the forest!

[rwbyremnants]

CHAPTER WARNINGS: awkward public boner, sexy underwear.

NOTE: These next chapters do not take place during Dustmas. Also I'm sorry, I wanted to get the rest of this posted last month (Christmas In July haha) but got too distracted by new writing, and also life. I really do apologise. Then again, I'm not sure people are even still keeping up with this account anyway LOL

Either way, I hope you guys like this random selection from the RWBYRemnants Vault! There’s tons more to come in the future!

=Chapter 5

A few months later, Ruby's birthday had come and gone. She had a small party of her own back at the Xiao Long residence, this time with not as much alcohol. But now, she was old enough to drink. And to do other things.

Not that it was something Blake Belladonna had acted upon. Since Dustmas, they hadn't had another such encounter. Not even a kiss. It seemed that an entire morning of Weiss and Yang flinging accusations at them sort of scared them off from pursing anything more. But it made no difference; if anything, Blake enjoyed her company and friendship all the more in those months. Despite how much fun Dustmas was, Blake didn't think to bring it back up. Not until her friend made the first move. After her negative reaction to a wandering hand, it was only fair that way.

And as agreed, for her birthday treat, she's taken her on a rather small trip around Vale. It was such a simple request that Blake didn’t dare refuse it, even though she privately hoped to find something a little more special to do for her while they explored.

"So we've been to the weapon stores, Dust Till Dawn, Tukson’s… where next?"

"Maybe we should grab a bite to eat!" Ruby chirped happily, reaching out and snaring Blake's hand. This was the most contact they had enjoyed since the bathroom that morning, though they had done it with increasing regularity. "What sounds good to you?"

"No, it's your birthday, Ruby. You should choose." As much as she wanted to say ‘fish’, she understood not everyone had her taste for it. The birthday girl ought to have something she loved. "Something sweet? I know a place that does a good strawberry sundae."

"Whaaaaah!" Ruby gasped, glowing. "Do they… do they crumble up cookies on top?! Oh, that's the best! Let's go, let's go, where is it?!"

"Hey hey, alright, alright!" she laughed, leading her up the road along the various pathways to get to where she had in mind, cutting through various different alleyways along the way.

Soon they were seated in a small restaurant, Ruby bouncing up and down and Blake humouring her. The menu was not strictly dessert items, as it turned out, but their dessert list was extensive. They found a booth near the window, where the Vale sun could smile down on them as they waited to be served.

"I'll have one hot dog and a glass of water, and then your triple-decker strawberry sundae with bananas, cookie crumbs, and extra whipped cream!" she blurted at the waitress before she had finished asking if they were ready to order.

"Sorry, she's just a bit excited," Blake chuckled, remaining calm throughout looking at the menu. Was there anything she actually wanted? "Just your fish-and-chips for me, please."

Once the server had disappeared off into the kitchen, Ruby turned back to Blake and said, "So! Um… that party was…" Dropping her voice, she whispered, "Yang should never be given both beer and fireworks."

"I had a feeling something like that would happen, a fireproof woman in control of fireworks; what could possibly go wrong?" She laughed, folding her hands atop the table.

"Everything!" Ruby chuckled in return. The server brought two glasses of water and nipped back into the kitchens, and Ruby drummed her fingers on either side of her glass. Thoughtful for a second.

"Hmm? What’s up?"

"I'm, um… I was wondering about something." As she went on, her voice got steadily quieter, and her head hunched down lower. "Is there… a reason you haven't w-wanted to kiss me the past few months? Or be alone with me for more than a few minutes? Or anything like that?"

Of course, that wasn't what Blake expected. At all.

"I wasn't sure if you were ready," she admitted. "Or if maybe it was just a drunken mistake you made, a-and you wanted me to leave it alone from then on. So I thought I'd let you make the first move instead of being pushy again."

"But I'm not… I don't make moves. I have no moves! Moves are not what I do! I mean, outside of the battlefield." Ruby shrugged one shoulder. "And I guess when you didn't try to kiss me or anything again, I just figured… yeah, too much wine. That's fine if it's true! So, um, I guess that's… what I wanted to ask. Yep."

"Well…" She was visibly blushing, leaning in toward the girl to whisper to her, "I know it sounds stupid, but I'm also kind of… afraid? Because we're both girls, and I’m the way I am – and then at the time, you were underage. If Yang found out… well, let's just say I'd have ended up like that fence she decided to throw a rocket at!"

Wincing at the mental image, Ruby whispered back, "Y-yeah, all of those things are true, I guess. But I don’t think it sounds stupid. Sure, I wasn't expecting to like kissing a girl, but that's mostly because I never thought about it before. Do we have to care about that other stuff, though? If we decide not to do anything about w-what we did before, I want it to be our decision, not somebody else's."

She made a good point. Making a choice based on how she thought other people would feel about it was ridiculous. Ruby was old enough to decide what she wanted – hell, she was their team leader!

Clearly, they both enjoyed their tryst under the Bristletoe, alongside the other events that happened. And the girl was very beautiful, and cute, and fun to hang out with. Everything she could ever want.

"…I do really like you, Ruby," she managed to breathe as she took hold of Ruby’s hands, holding her breath afterward.

"And I like you, too." Blushing and grinning, she shrugged and continued in a brighter tone of voice, "So maybe we kinda messed up at the start there and went too fast, but can't we start over? Just let things flow naturally? I'm up for that if you are."

Just then, however, the waitress brought out their hot dog and fish and laid them in front of their respective table settings. Within an instant, she let go of Ruby's hand. Not that she realised it may offend the younger girl. Unlike Ruby, it seemed with the affairs of love, Blake was extremely private. No one knew of her past relationships; Ruby was the only one to know she had a partner in that way previously at all. With Ruby, at least there was reason to hide it in public; some people still weren't comfortable with homosexual relationships, despite it being such a small portion of the global community. But hiding her past experiences from the person she now shared everything with was silly.

Ruby did in fact flinch when her hand was released, but she tried to hide the reaction behind her hot dog. They didn't say much until the sundae was brought out, and then they both gasped.

"This… is the biggest, most awesome thing I've ever seen in my life!" she squealed as she gazed at the lumps of ice cream so covered in toppings that she almost couldn't see any of it. "How do they serve this to a single person?!"

"I knew you'd love it here." Blake grinned.

Even when Ruby was well into her ice cream, she was still going on her fish, savouring the delicious flavours on her tongue. And the fries were also cooked wonderfully. The younger girl only had eyes for her dessert until she was about halfway through it and Blake had polished off her meal. Then she paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth, thought for a minute, and held it out to Blake.

"Wanna bite?"

"Oh, you don't mind?" she asked, looking down at the spoonful of strawberry ice cream, cookie crumbs spilling to the tablecloth. "It's your gift, you know."

"What's the fun of getting a dessert bigger than your head if you can't share it?"

"Well… Alright." She couldn't argue with that logic! Besides, it looked fabulous. And so she leaned across the table, taking the spoon full of desert into her mouth.

It was heaven. Unlike any ice cream he had tasted before, it was deliciously creamy, and light on her tongue. And the cookie crumbs added to the texture to overall deliver a wonderful flavour. Unable to help herself, her eyes closed in content. "Mmm…"

Giggling slightly at Blake's blissful expression, Ruby whispered, "Um, you can let go of the spoon and I'm pretty sure the ice cream stays in your mouth."

"Mm??" With that, she let the spoon fall from her mouth, giggling contentedly as she swallowed. "Holy shit. That was too good!"

That was the moment Ruby became glad they had picked a booth seat instead of chairs. Scooting closer, she dipped into the bowl for another bite and held it out for Blake. "Say 'ahhh'…"

Rolling her eyes, she gave in to the younger girl's demand, closing her eyes and opening her mouth. "Aaaaahhhh!"

"Nyooom!" Ruby said as she thrust the spoon inside.

"MFF!" Of course, she was surprised by the sudden intrusion of the spoon, but giggled as she quickly swallowed what was on the spoon. Snorting and cackling, Ruby dipped the spoon back into the bowl but then noticed something.

"Oh, you have…" Leaning in, she licked a tiny fleck of ice cream from the corner of Blake's mouth.

Blake blushed when feeling her tongue so close to her mouth. It bought back memories of their first night together, and where else that tongue was…

But those memories triggered a most unwanted reaction, as she could already feel herself becoming warm below. "Damnit…"

Ruby drew back, biting her bottom lip and raising her eyebrows at Blake in a questioning way. She wasn't quite yet aware that anything was truly wrong; she just knew she had flustered Blake slightly with her boldness, which had been the goal.

"Ruby…" She spoke quietly, quickly looking around the restaurant to make sure no one was watching them or could overhear. Thankfully, they were all tucked into their meals and ice cream and took no notice of their surroundings. Blake leaned toward her ear, whispering quietly, "Keep that up and I’ll have a problem… uh, down there."

"Hm?" Then she seemed to catch on to what sort of "problem" Blake meant. "Oh? Wait, here?!Wh-why?"

"You licking me." She looked around once again, suddenly feeling really self-conscious, one of her hands reaching down to cover herself as well. "I’ll be fine, but c-can you dial back with the flirting for a while? Just because… that definitely makes this condition worse."

Now Ruby was also looking around the restaurant cautiously. The few people there were at least four or five tables away. Added into that was the short tablecloth; it wasn't long enough to conceal her legs entirely, but certainly nobody could see that "problem" they were discussing.

"Um… okay, so I know I helped you before, but h-how can I help you now? This is kinda different!"

Managing to spot that the bathroom wasn't so far, she looked over to it, and then back to Ruby. "Look, you stay here and eat your dessert, I'll run to the bathroom and, um… take care of it."

"Really, it's that bad already?" Without thinking, Ruby reached under the table to press her hand against Blake. It wasn't quite fully aroused yet, but she could tell their conversation was making it steadily worse. "Whoa…"

"R-Ruby!!" she suddenly burst out, shuffling away from her by instinct. But her shout had gotten the attention of one of the waiters who looked over to their table. Able to sense the problem was only going to get worse, Blake quickly shuffled to the end of the seat. "I-I'm sorry, I have to- I gotta… Sorry."

And with that, she made a quick dash for the bathroom. Even when Ruby's goal was to only fluster her, it had worked too well, it seemed. But why did Ruby set her off so easily from barely doing anything at all?

"Blake!" Ruby hissed, but couldn't bring herself to speak any louder or say any more. Guilt shot through her chest. True, she hadn't meant to do anything of that nature, but she also couldn't stand knowing that her friend was dealing with something so difficult and it was as a result of something she did. A repeat of what happened in their bathroom on Dustmas also seemed to be unwise, given how upset Blake had seemed. Could she do nothing right?

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

It took quite a while for Blake to reappear again. Thankfully she had calmed down before her situation worsened, especially after washing her face with the cold water of the sink. There were words of apology when she had eventually returned, and all was back to well again as they finished dessert.

But on their walk back home, the Faunus kept thinking to herself. She couldn't keep doing that to Ruby, running off with no explanation, shying away and shutting her out. Ruby by now knew her better than anyone else, even more than her best friend and battle partner.

But there was one other person who knew her just as much, the very reason she acted that way. The reason she was so skittish about starting another relationship at all.

"Ruby?" she asked, walking by her side. "Have I ever told you about my partner before I came to Beacon?"

Looking up from her scroll, which she had just been checking, Ruby blinked at her companion. "Not that I can remember. Then again, I can be pretty scatterbrained sometimes."

"Well… I worked very closely with this guy. His name was Adam. We did quite a few raids together for the White Fang, protests, demonstrations. We were…" As she went on, she looked down, staring at her feet as they continued their journey. "We were close."

"Okay," Ruby prompted gently. She could tell this wasn't easy for Blake, but without further details she didn't quite know what else to say.

"Of course, we used to share our sleeping quarters. I didn't trust any of the other members, but Adam… I trusted him more than anyone. And the feeling was mutual, or so I thought." Her pace slowed as she delved deeper into her memories. "We were together a while, and when things were developing, we thought we'd… go further. But when he discovered what made me different from other women, he… he suddenly wasn't as kind as I thought. Or as trustworthy."

"Oh, Blake," Ruby breathed, hand closing around her upper arm gently. "That's not fair. Did he… hurt you, or anything?"

"No, not… physically." She looked back up again, and to the silver eyes looking back at her, then out in the direction they were walking. "He demanded I leave, put me in a group with men I didn't know. None of them did anything, but I was rather scared they would. Slowly, more of the members began making snide comments, giving me dirty looks. I knew he'd told a few, but of course, a rumour like that spreads."

A nauseated look flashed across the younger girl's face as she took in the thought of that. "So he… he punished you by outing you? Just for having different junk? But that's crazy, you have the same junk he has! Why would any of them care? I don't understand…"

The girl's naivety forced another chuckle from Blake. "Not everyone is as open minded as you, Ruby. Most of them called me a freak. Most of them made comments about me being some form of sex object, some even described what they wanted to do to ‘put me in my place’. It was humiliating. I don't think Adam meant for as many people to know as wound up knowing, but the fact he just tossed me aside over that… it hurt. And that's why I don't want people to know. I don't want anyone else just… Not liking me anymore over something I was born with and can’t do much about."

"Well…" Ruby's sentence died in her throat. It was true that other people thought differently from her, and she couldn't do anything about that or about Blake's past. All she could do in the moment was reassure her about the present and the future.

"Blake, I like you. A lot. And I can't deny finding out you're a little different was a surprise, but I mean, sometimes people have silver eyes and sometimes they have cat ears, or tails, and sometimes they have both boobs and a deal. That's just… it's details. Who people are on the inside is the important part, and I know not everybody's smart enough to understand that, but I am, and… and I think Weiss and Yang would probably understand, too. They're pretty smart."

"That is true. But…" She looked down again. "I just didn't see it important for them to know, you know? I'm not sleeping with them, so why is it important?"

"No, no, I'm not-" Squirming, she leaned in slightly to add, "I didn't mean you had to tell them. Just that if they found out, they wouldn't be like those White Fang guys. That's all."

"Ah… well, you’re probably right. Thanks." She smiled. Soon after, she locked her arm around Ruby's, leaning against her as they walked. "For the record… I like you, too."

Nodding, she replied, "Yeah, I'm pretty likable, huh?"

"You are. And humble." This time she leant in closer toward her ear, whispering rather quietly. "Another thing… you can help me out when we get back, if you wanted. J-just if you’re interested; if you aren’t, that’s fine."

Sputtering and flushing bright red, she whispered, "C-could I? I mean… are you sure you want me to? Because the other times it was just kind of a thing that happened, so I w-wanna make sure you really want my help!"

"Well I…" She too began to blush at the thought. Thankfully this time, it didn't cause any embarrassing results whilst they were on their way back, but she confessed, "I really, reallyenjoyed it… and I have to admit, I’ve thought about it a lot since then.”

“Really?! You thought about… me?” After a few more paces, she whispered, “Do you think about me while taking care of it?” Blake’s silence said it all, and she grinned. “That’s hot.”

“Yeah. I'm kinda curious to help you in the same way one day, if that makes sense?"

“What?!” When Blake didn’t answer, she gulped. "Well, I'm still not ready for that, I don't think… maybe I am? Wow, this wasn't what I was expecting to think about later today when I woke up!" Swallowing, lowered her voice as she responded, "But… can I explore a little? Explore you? Because it’s my turn to confess… I k-keep thinking about it. When I'm falling asleep, or in the shower, and it makes me kind of f-feel how you must have felt last Dustmas, s-so… whatever that means, I hope it's a good thing!"

"If you want to, of course. I don't wanna rush you into anything." She smiled, taking the younger girl's hand for the final stretch home. Yes, Ruby was now old enough to do this sort of thing, but after her own past, the last thing she wanted to do was to apply too much pressure on the girl.

"Don’t be silly! This is just another kind of adventure."

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

Alas, when they got back to the dorms, Weiss and Yang were already there, and immediately engaged them in a philosophical debate about whether or not using Dust on a pet was humane treatment. Blake immediately said it wasn't, and Ruby said that Zwei seemed to like the taste. The discussion wore on for quite some time, and neither of them found their way back to the "mood" afterward.

It wasn't until several days later, while they were in gym class doing flexibility exercises, that Ruby thought she might have an opportunity again. Their instructor was asking them to find people to spot each other, and she didn't hesitate.

"Spot me, Blake!" she blurted out. Weiss had been approaching, but having heard that she rolled her eyes and turned to walk toward Yang. Which of them she had been going to ask would forever remain a mystery.

"Oh don't look like that, sour-flake. I don't smell that bad, do I?" Yang smirked when Weiss was by her side again, one hand ruffling in her hair as she leant down to whisper teasingly, "Besides, you got to be as hands-on as you want…"

The heiress’s response would also be a mystery.

Ironically, that was precisely the reason why Blake was so eager to work with Ruby. Not only would it keep her secret safe, but it would allow her to also assist Ruby and touch her somewhat intimately. But not too much, of course.

Pacing off a few steps, Ruby turned back to her and whispered, "I can't believe Weiss wanted to partner up with any of us in the first place. Could have sworn she'd go for Pyrrha, given a choice."

"Pyrrha has Jaune though, that's a given." Of course when they were stood by one another's side, they awaited instructions. Truth be told, Blake didn't even know why they had this class; they were all very athletic and flexible, as performed many times in battle. Spotters weren't really necessary.

The first command came in: handstands. A simple enough start. Ruby turned to face Blake and shrugged, setting her feet slightly apart. "Okay, so do you wanna go first, or me?"

"You can, I'll make sure you won't tip over." Blake eagerly smiled, stepping back enough so Ruby could do as commanded. She was unable to help but look over to Yang and Weiss, who were currently arguing over who should go first.

A secret smile stole over Ruby's face. She had been hoping for this sort of thing. Planned for it. If her plans never came to fruition, it wasn't a big deal, of course. But if they did…

"Alright! Ready or not, here I handstand!"

In a quick, effortless move, she was being supported by only her two hands against the thick floormats, stocking feet flailing in the air above her. Right away, Blake was at hand to support her, hands quickly resting either side of her hips to help hold her upright as best she could get. However, apparently Ruby had only tucked her shirt in the back – and the view was marvelous. As she was stood upside down, her top fell slightly, allowing her to see the sultry black bra underneath.

"Oh…"

That told Ruby that she had seen the top. All that was left was to complete the show.

"Oh, what?" she said softly as she parted her legs slightly. Up through the legs of her shorts, someone at Blake's angle could clearly see yet more black lace that matched the bra.

As the blush coated her face, Blake immediately tried to look up and away from her. To other things to distract her. Ruby had planned this all along! Wearing matching bra and panties with rather lovely designs all over them. How she wanted nothing more but to strip her to nothing else and-

No. She had to keep composed while they were in the gym, and concentrated on holding her friend upright.

"Well," Ruby said somewhat suggestively as she flexed her hindmuscles. "How long do you think I'm supposed to keep this handstand up? She didn't say."

"Did you-" She looked around the room, sure enough to notice others were indeed getting out of their handstands in their own time, but Ruby had no plans just yet. Sneaking another gaze at the girl, she said as quietly as possible, "Did you plan this?"

When at last every other student had dismounted, Ruby did as well. People might talk if she kept handstanding too terribly long afterward. "Maybe," she admitted with a coy grin, though she was also flushed and panting from the effort. "Picked out some stuff last time I went into town with Yang. She, um, looked at me funny, but also seemed to think it was a 'rite of passage' kinda deal."

"I… um… wow." Rite of passage was certainly right, but it was the last thing Blake had suspected Ruby would try. She was always focused on fighting monsters, or leadership, or her friends. Never impressing anyone in the bedroom department!

Until now, it seemed. If only they weren't in public… but now of course, it was Blake's turn, and she couldn’t worry about what she might do if they were alone. "J-just spot me, you little jerk."

Nodding, Ruby stepped back so Blake could do the same, holding her arms out and away slightly. "Go for it!"

Right away, Blake bent down to her head, only to then bring her weight upon her hands as she stood upright. A lot more graceful then Ruby, there was no flailing of her legs. Of course, she had plenty of training for these sorts of thing in the White Fang, so she was a little ahead of the curve.

Indeed, Ruby reached forward to spot Blake directly as she had for Ruby, but it wasn't necessary; therefore she simply held her hands near her hips instead of on them. Of course, Blake's chest was much more ample than Ruby's was, and she elected to tuck her shirt into her shorts as a precaution against people who might want a peek.

The fact that Blake didn't need her direct spotting enabled Ruby to cast a glance over her shoulder. No one was watching them too closely. Turning back away from the crowd, she leaned in and delivered a swift and fleeting kiss against one of the thighs near her face, just under the hem of the shorts.

Now that was something to break the Faunus woman's composure! Immediately one of her arms began to wobble slightly, legs rocking as she managed to right herself. She hadn't been expecting contact at all!

"R-Ruby?! What are you playing at?!" she hissed as quietly as possibly.

"What?" Ruby giggled softly, kissing the other thigh. "It was just a little peck, no biggie!"

"J-just… G-gah!" Once again losing her balance, one arm completely gave way, making her fall over into the girl below. Unfortunately, the two fell into a rather unorthodox position: Ruby's head was right near the inbetween of Blake's legs.

That's when Ruby scented it; the smell of Blake's arousal. Oh, it wasn't particularly strong, and seemed as if it was slightly less than perfectly fresh… as if she had just felt a slight twinge a while ago and it had since departed. Even so, the scent wrapped itself around her and squeezed gently, and Ruby sighed in distant pleasure.

"Wow, coordinated much?" Weiss remarked from nearby, where she was standing on a single hand.

"Sh-showoff!" Ruby shot back at her.

After a call of concern from the teacher, Blake quickly struggled to get back up again, placing hands on either side of herself to force herself back up onto her feet. Only then did she help Ruby back up. Yes, there was arousal there from when she had stared at Ruby, but the girl was trying her best not to let it show elsewhere. That would be awful.

A flushed Ruby turned away just enough so that no one could hear her or see her mouth moving. "Blake, here? Seriously?"

"I'm trying not to…" Thankfully, no one would notice. Not unless they were really looking out for it. But it didn't matter so much. If she could hold off till the end of the lesson, the next period was lunch. And no one would be in the showers or changing rooms. Perhaps that was Ruby's plan.

Part of Ruby wanted to make things worse for Blake. At first, she didn't even understand why – but then suddenly realised it was because it meant she was enjoying her presence, the sight of her in the black lace. It gratified an ego she didn't even know she had, pleased her that she could elicit this type of reaction. But that would be a terrible thing to do.

Instead, she merely whispered, "Um… th-think about Jaune getting motion sickness."

"Eww, oh eww… " That was one way to make that go away, which certainly worked. Thankfully if she didn't think about it, she would last the end of the lesson. And then, have Ruby all to herself at lunch.

All to herself.