#live in one of the nicest neighborhoods in the city in a building with a doorman AND AN ORANGERIE

[expatesque]

My parents are looking at flats in a building built in 1912 that the Wrigley's used to live in and it's basically my dream renovation project. There are two adjacent units that could be combined. There's a massive bay window. There are 6 fireplaces and twelve foot ceilings and crown mouldings to die for.

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch 1: Here’s Your One Chance | Next | Ao3

MDNI

Vampire! Poly! 141 x Plus size! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A permanent darkness rests over the city. Cold, too. Despite living here your whole life you’ve never quite adjusted to the artificial nature of it - to the shadow hanging above the miles and miles of city and the constant chill on your skin.

Really, you aren’t meant to be here. This place isn’t built for humans despite the mass that live within the confines of the city’s dome. It’s made for creatures - beings of the night that stalk and rule. The air has become rotten in the lower neighborhoods over a century due to pollution and overpopulation. It will turn your lungs black before the age of five without the proper protection.

Apartment buildings are crowded and decent living conditions are hard to come by. Many have a waitlist longer than the human lifespan. Most operate on a dorm system - at least one person per room. Randomly assigned of course, based entirely on who can pay the rent. You’ve lucked out enough to earn a shitty studio to yourself. It’s cracked and crumbling but the locks are tight and it has a window - even if the view is just a building across the alleyway.

You squeeze into a black mini dress, tying your hair up to show off the double string of pearls on your neck. They’re the nicest thing you own - the only thing worthy of this club. The only thing that can project the image needed to get proper tips. Red lipstick as a final touch. It’s corny, you know, but the vampire clients are always suckers for it. Pun intended.

This job is important. There can’t be a hair out of place. This is your chance. Your one chance to make enough money to get out of the slums. To at least make it to the middle city. You can practically hear the grime on the sidewalk as you make your way toward the metro station. Dirt and debris so caked into the very air down here that you have to wear a respirator as you go. It’ll leave marks when you first take it off, but they usually disappear by the time you’ve made it from the depot to the club.

You don’t bother with sitting on the train. Hell will freeze over before you chance catching whatever new disease has grown in that Petri dish. Instead you join the rest of the patrons in awkwardly standing in the center of the cart, damn near falling over when the train lurches to begin its journey from the slums to the upper city. There are actual names for the two areas, but nobody uses them anymore.

The respirator makes a hissing sound as you remove it after stepping out of the train. The cool, clean air of the upper city fills your lungs. It’s satisfying in a way its sticky, filtered sister could never be. The faux fur of your cropped coat tickles a bit as you walk, blown by that strange breeze that never seems to stop in the upper city. The one that blows all the grime and smog downhill.

The club sits square in central downtown - the bottom level of a historical hotel. It’s an elegant building. Red with curled metal accents over the windows and doors. Modeled after the ancient art nouveau movement. It sparkles underneath the artificial LEDs of the city - all signs and glowing windows. You can always tell where the humans are, catching glimpses of that unmistakable glow only a UV light gives off.

You duck down the alley behind the hotel. Grimy and dark, the complete opposite of the front entrance. Your heels clack on the concrete loudly - echoing off the hard walls of the building surrounding you.

It’s easy enough to slip into the routine of your job. Going back and forth to the bartender, carrying various drinks and placating the egos of cowardly men and the vampires they lie to themselves about being equal to. You can see the hunger in their eyes when you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck to the light. When your wrists just pass their noses as you set down their glasses.

It’s hard work. Long hours and more days of the week than you would like, but it pays enough for you to afford your little apartment and save some for your future.

“Hey! New girl!” The owner barks at you as you gently set your tray back into the stack to be washed.

You whirl on your heel. Shit, did you fuck up? Ruin everything? Your mind runs through every interaction over the course of the night - every comment, every stilted moment. “Y-yes, sir?”

“Need you as a Companion.” He stands in front of you, the pinstripes of his suit warping over his massive crossed arms. The wrinkle in his nose makes his mustache twitch.

“C-companion!” You squeak. “I’m not-“

“We had a call out. Need you to take the private booth in the back.”

Your eyes are saucers - heart beating so hard you almost can’t hear his words. You don’t know what to make of this. His words are harsh and cut right though you, but the prospect they hold…

“You paying attention?” He grunts.

Your voice shakes. “Just… why me?”

“You match their preference.” Its blunt. Uncaring. Not that you would ever expect much sympathy from the owner of a place like this - feeding girls to vampires and their kin.

Generally, you’re not the type to be preferred - too big and soft for most. It’s what kept you as a server exclusively, you’re sure. Companion is such a major step up, too. You haven’t had any training. You never thought you’d get there - only a few girls make it from Server to Companion. To have it by happenstance…

With a deep breath you remind yourself that this is temporary. Just for tonight. You are acting as a replacement, nothing more. If you pull this off maybe you’ll get enough tips to finally replace the air filtration in your apartment. Maybe you can even get an overhead UV light. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely!

Another tray is shoved into your hands. Is this… actual gold? Ornate designs line the outer rim - all weaving in and out of each other inlaid with iridescent mother of pearl. It’s cold on your hands and so shiny you catch your reflection in it before the bartender sets a bottle of wine and four glasses on it. You’re fairly certain between the wine and the tray you are holding upwards of four thousand dollars a in your hands. It takes everything to keep your hands from trembling.

You slowly head for the back booth - just beyond the main floor of the bar. It’s far more quiet here. The music from the floor muffled by distance. There are only a few private booths and they are only ever occupied by the city’s elite. The top of the top. You pause at the heavy, velvet burgundy curtain separating you and your clients for tonight. They could be anyone.

You hope they aren’t the type to get rough.

Balancing the tray on one hand, you use the other the push the heavy curtain to the side - entire body alert and tense as your eyes land on the four men sitting around the rounded booth. Their eyes meet yours, and you freeze. A shiver runs down your spine.

They’re beautiful in that way only vampires can be. Untouchable. Marble-esque. Eyes clear and bright even in the low light of the booth - that sheen of night vision apparent. Lions staring down their prey and you, who walked into the den willingly.

“Good evening.” It takes everything to keep your voice steady. To slip back into that comfortable customer service headspace you’ve curated over the years. “I’ll be your Companion tonight.”

“What happened t’ Cherry?” The man on the outer right side of the booth asks. His arm is slung carelessly over the back of the booth, body slack and comfortable.

“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You say softly, carefully sliding the tray onto the table. “If I’m not to your standards-“

“Well, now, none of us said that.” A man with an imperial beard smiles. It softens his face - makes him look less like stone. “What’s your name, dove?”

“Fancy.” You murmur. It’s your chosen work name - based on a song your mother used to play from a century ago. One of your earliest memories is her lifting you into her arms and spinning around to the song. All the workers names are single words. Easy to remember. Easy to request for returning quests.

“Fittin’.” The man to your left grins, bright blue eyes sparkling. His fangs catch the light - your hands tremble for a brief moment.

“Do you know who we are?” The masked man beside him asks. His voice rumbles through your nerves, all the way into your bones. You can hardly look at him - the skull covering the top half of his face makes your gut churn.

Should you know them? Oh, fuck, you probably should. Vampires live forever - their names and legacies travel across centuries. Millenia. It’s going to give you away. You’re just a low class human from the slums. You don’t know Vampires from the uppers.

The illusion of luxury only goes so far.

“It’s not a trick question.” The man to your right smiles gently, tilting his head to the side.

“No, sir.”

“Well,” The one with the beard sits a little straighter. “I’m John Price and these are my… confidants. Cohorts. Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley.” He gestures to each as he goes.

John Price… John Price… Nothing comes to mind. Nothing about any of them, for that matter.

“Lovely to meet you.” You smile pleasantly, slipping back into the script. Swallowing roughly and steadying yourself, you reach for the bottle and slowly pouring a tester amount into the four glasses. “Tonight we have a vintage red from 2089.”

John hums, swirling the glass before taking a sip. His eyes glow in the low bar light. “You remember the 80’s, Simon?”

“Which one?” The makes you pause. How many 80’s could there be?

John laughs, whole and hearty. Little crows feet appear in the corners of his eyes. “Which d’you think?”

“I remember the blood.” The masked man mutters. He doesn’t look at John - dark eyes locked on you. You keep up the well trained smile. Neutral, comfortable.

“Och, ye would.” Johnny scoffs, taking his own glass after John gives you a nod to fill the four properly. “Cannae ever remember the good.”

“Well what’s your finest memory then Johnny?”

“There’s was this lass… think her name was Cassandra. Had the biggest tits and-“

“Enough of that. Theres a lady present.” John waves his hand. To your surprise, Johnny actually listens despite looking muffed about it. You can’t help but snort. Lady. As if.

How old are they, anyway? They look young - especially Johnny and Kyle. Definitely below thirty when they were turned. John obviously leads but that doesn’t necessarily mean he turned the rest of them. They could have just come together over the years. Vampire covens vary heavily as to why they came together. Sometimes friendship, sometimes relation, sometimes just convenience.

Simon is still staring you down, hooking a thumb under his mask to raise it just over the end of his nose. Scarred lips sip from his glass.

“Come sit, luv.” Kyle pats the booth beside him.

You snap out of your thoughts at the prompt - moving to sit in the empty spot beside Kyle. The next thing you know hands are on your hips, passing you over until you’re sat square in the middle as if you weigh nothing. You know vampires are strong - you’ve gotten thrown around by your fair share in the slums, whether a mugging or fucking - but it still startles you. They could crush you with barely a flick of the wrist.

Fingers brush over your shoulders, tracing the shape of them before lowering to rest between your exposed shoulder blades. They’re cold and leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Tell us about yourself, hm?” John prompts.

“Oh, not much to tell.” You shrug and smile. “I’m from the city. Started here about a year ago-“

“How have we never seen ye then?” Johnny interrupts, eyes locked on your chest. “A bonnie thing like ye…”

“Well…” You raise your hand to your mouth like you would when whispering a secret. “I’m not supposed to tell but I’m actually a server, normally.”

“Oh, really?” Kyle leans his chin on his palm. “In a dress like that?”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” You huff, letting the pliant facade slip just enough to make yourself seem real. Just a little less doll like before you return to the script.

“Absolutely nothin’.” Simon hums beside you, eyes near black under the shadow of his mask.

Your face heats. Client compliments never get to you and you’re not sure what about his feels so different. All of their attention is so intense. It dives under your skin and burrows deep in your marrow.

“So, seeing as you implied I should know who you are-“ You tilt your head and meeting John’s eye, “who are you?”

John chuckles, leaning close. “Oh, no one important. Contractors. Independently employed.”

“Ah, so, criminals.” You laugh.

“If you say so.”

“I can’t exactly judge.” You lean in as well, shoulder pressing against his broad chest. The material of his suit is soft and thick. High quality. “I mean, look where I am, hm?”

“Are ye a criminal, lassie?” Johnny grins at you, tilting his head. How he makes a mo-hawk cute is beyond you.

“Shh.” You press a finger to your lips.

It’s easy enough to look sultry, to play the part, to mindlessly flirt. Easy enough to fall into the simple back and forth. Scripted. Basic. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’re just clients at the end of the day, even if they have more money and power than your usual crowd.

You carefully refill each of their glasses. You can feel their eyes on you - boring through your very being. It takes more concentration than you’d like to keep your breath from hitching when John’s hand rests on your upper thigh. You lean forward, pushing each glass back to their respective owners.

Johnny takes your hand before you can retract it, placing gentle kisses from your palm to your wrist. He sighs shakily, teeth catching your skin ever so slightly.

“Johnny.” The masked man rumbles in warning.

“Not gonnae bite, LT… she just smells incredible.” Johnny murmurs against your wrist.

“Have you ever been bitten, dove?” John asks, eyes half lidded as he stares you down. That feeling comes back.

Prey. You’re just prey.

“N-no…” You shake your head, voice smaller than you’d like. You’re not supposed to. Clients aren’t allowed to bite the girls here - it’s not one of those clubs - but in reality you’re at your mercy. To book one of these rooms they surely have the money to pay whoever necessary to do whatever they might want with you.

“Donnae look so afraid.” Johnny chuckles.

“We’re not goin’ t’bite.” Kyle leans forward. “Just curious.”

“Oh…” You whisper. Johnny drops your wrist and you pray that they don’t notice how quickly you retract it.

“Alright boys, time for business.” John sighs. He suddenly grabs your chin, turning you to face him. It’s a light touch, not too rough but solid. His pupils dilate and yours with them. “You’ll forget everything we say from now until I snap my fingers.”

The next thing you know you’re blinking blearily, sitting in John’s lap with your legs across Kyle’s. The younger man’s hand rests on your leg, thumb gently stroking your ankle as you come back to sentience.

It’s like coming up from the undertow and getting your first gasp of air.

“There she is.” Johnny murmurs, smiling softly.

You were compelled - you know that much. It’s disorienting. You rub the corner of your eye, purposefully evening your breath. At least your clothes are all still in place. You don’t feel… touched. Not bitten either. A choked sigh escapes you against your will, hands trembling in your lap.

“You’re alright, dove.” John coos, cold breath puffing against your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. How much time has passed? When… what… “Can be hard t’come out of it, hm?”

“I’m okay...” You whisper.

“Have some water.” Kyle pushes a glass toward you. The concern on his face feels foreign.

A large, empty decanter of scotch sits in the center of the table accompanied by several empty glasses. That’s the closest hint you have to how long you’ve been here. You take the glass of water shakily and sip, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the rim.

John continues to coo and soothe down your hair. His other hand travels down to rest on your hip, holding you in place against him. It’s strange… this feeling. You’ve been compelled before briefly but it wasn’t like this. John has to be strong. Old. He’s been around a while to have that kind of power - for it to be this difficult for you to come out of the haze. It’s taking more concentration to keep from crying than you’d like.

Stranger, though, is the way they watch you. The way John works you back to reality. Most vampires would have been inappropriate while you were gone, wouldn’t bother with the borderline aftercare needed when coming out from under their spell. Most would have left you slumped in the booth - drained of blood and pleasure - laughing as they went.

You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter and gathering your wits. “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”

They share a look, one that you can’t quite interpret.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” John asks, voice low.

You look up at him with big eyes. Childlike, almost, staring up in wonder. It’s so strange how vampires aren’t quite white - they just lack the redness of life. The pink under the skin that signifies a beating heart and limited life span.

“I’m sure.”

John presses closer, breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Thank you for being so gracious f’us, tonight.

“Always…” There’s an honestly behind the word that startles you. A craving deep in your bones to prove yourself worthy of him and his men.

Strange.

“We best be on our way.” Simon rumbles, prompting Johnny to let him out of the booth.

John’s eyes flick between yours briefly before he moves you off of his lap with the gentle touch one might use when handling fine china. As much as you want to stay there, dazed and still coming down, you have work to do. So, you stand after them and begin slowly gathering the empty glasses on the tray. They feel heavier in your hand the normal.

A cold touch runs up your back and you freeze. Fingers trace the curve of your spine. You straighten, turning slowly only to meet those soft blue eyes again. John takes your hand, eyes alight with something you don’t understand. “I’ll tell the owner he’s wasting you as a servin’ girl. You’re made for more.”

Before you can even possibly decide how to respond, he’s gone. Disappeared through the curtain and into the forever night. Something crinkles in your hand. When you look down, slowly opening your fingers, the contents make your heart jump into your throat.

Cash. A massive roll of neatly banded cash.

How much is this? A thousand? More?

With frightened eyes and slippery hands you tuck the cash into the secret pocket of your coat. Having that much cash on your person is so out of your wheelhouse - out of the realm of possibility- you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t even get to say thank you.

Your mind whirls as you finish up your shift, eyes glazed over while slipping on your coat. The other girls look off put. A few whisper and stare.

What do they think you did?

Then again, you think as you brace yourself for the lurching and squealing of the metro, there isn’t any way to know what happened. Not unless one of the vampires tells you, and good luck prying any information out of one of them. Even if they tell you, they can just make you forget all over again.

How did you behave? Were you the same as always? Were you an entirely different person?

Some people forget themselves when under compulsion - every inhibition thrown to the wind carelessly. You need your inhibitions. They keep your job secure and yourself safe. You can’t afford carelessness.

The walk back home is tense. That small bulk in your pocket burns a hole though you as your mind runs with every possibility of what might have happened. What you might have done to earn such a massive tip. It can’t have been dignified, could it?

There’s no way they just like you. That’s not how vampires are.

It takes everything to motivate yourself to actually take off your clothing and jewelry before falling into bed. However long they had you, it drained you. Left you tired and shaky as you crawl under the thick bundle of quilts that make up for the lack of heating in your home.

Your eyes meet the wad of cash that barely fit in the inner pocket of your coat. It feels like a threat. Use me well or lose me forever! Make me count because you’ll never see me again!

For now, at least, you can bask in it.

[thecharacterchronicler]

Playing With Fire || Coriolanus Snow || Smut

Outline: Coriolanus is forced to work on an assignment with a classmate but, while alone in her bedroom, he finds something interesting in her drawers and requests a demo.

Word count: 4’700

Warnings: mostly unhinged, explicit and shameless smut.

Author’s note: this is prompt 20 from my list, it was meant to be written as a one shot but not only am I not capable of writing short stories when it comes to Coriolanus Snow, I also happen to be absolutely incapable of not making it a series so there is a part 2 to this! 🖤

It had to be her.

Their professor had decided to pair up his students himself for once, forcing Coriolanus to work with her instead of Clemensia, like he usually did. He was fairly certain that it was a provocation from his professor, a way of getting him to drop from his position as top of his class, or maybe just a twisted experiment meant to amuse him, who knew ? But one thing Coriolanus knew for sure was that he wasn’t amused at all to be walking through the city to go to her house after class, there wasn’t many people he didn’t get along with but she was a rare exception.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, if anything, he didn’t care much about her at all, they didn’t hang out with the same people, nor did they have anything in common to discuss so they basically were strangers to each other.

No, what actually made him despite the fact that he had been paired up with her was that she was one of those self righteous people who had strong opinions when it came to the morality of the Hunger Games. Maybe it was because she used to live in the districts before her wealthy parents moved back to the Capitol ?

For some reason, she couldn’t help but be very vocal about the way the Capitol treated the districts, as if they hadn’t attacked them first and caused such chaos! For Coriolanus, the things she sometimes said in class were close to being considered treason and he couldn’t understand how such a wealthy and powerful heiress could ruin her reputation for a question of dubious morales…

Coriolanus stopped in front of the imposing gates of a luxurious manor, in the nicest part of the city. The garden surrounding the modern building was lush and green, contrasting with the gray of the city in the horizon and the burnt grass of less cared for gardens in the neighborhood. He shook his head, still finding it quite unfair that she had been blessed with such wealth and luxury when he had spent so many years having barely anything to eat on his plate.

He rang at the gate and announced himself through a microphone. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure he’d be allowed in, the security around the manor seemingly high and strict. But the gates finally opened for him and he walked towards the main doors, ready to press another button to announce his arrival but they opened before he was able to, revealing a middle aged woman, in designer clothes, excitedly smiling at him.

“Coriolanus Snow, is it ?” She purred, eyeing the university student from head to toe, punctuating her analysis with a discreet nod of approval. “I was told you’re here to see my daughter ? What does the son of the legendary Crassus Snow wants from her ?”

“I’m here to work on a project with her. For class.” He clarified, with a charming smile that seemed to make her melt.

If at first he thought she was interrogating him on his intentions because she was worried, he now realized that the disappointment on her face could only mean that she was hoping for another answer. Perhaps she believed that he was here to court her daughter ? …What a ridiculous idea.

“Oh, of course, my sweet girl is such a dedicated student.” She replied, nodding at herself. “She’s brilliant isn’t she ? So outspoken and smart. I’m often told that she’ll make a wonderful wife when the times comes…”

She looked at him, waiting for some kind of response but he wasn’t sure of what to say.

“You’re late.” The familiar voice of his classmate stated, coming from the imposing double staircase in the hallway behind the silhouette of her mother, still blocking Coriolanus at the door.

He would have almost felt relieved to hear her if he didn’t hate everything about her.

“My apologies, our driver was sick and needed to go home so I walked.” He lied, making the mother gasp in horror while the daughter simply rolled her eyes.

“My goodness, you walked ?! In such scorching heat ?” She exclaimed, looking as if she was about to pass out from shock. “Oh please, don’t hesitate to let me know when you are done with your project so our driver can take you home, perhaps you could even dine with us tonight ? I��m sure my husband would love to meet you, our daughter needs…”

“Needs to work on her project, mother.” She interrupted, visibly annoyed.

“I’d hate to make her wait any longer.” Coriolanus told the lady, as an excuse to finally enter the house and join his classmate inside, although he surely couldn’t care less about her and the disapproving glance she was throwing at him.

“Of course, of course…” The mother moved out of the way and he slipped inside, hurriedly climbing the stairs as if he was running away from the talktative lady of the house, straight to the brooding heiress.

“I told you to be here at 5 because she would still have been shopping in town and wouldn’t even have known that you had been here.” She whispered, once he was just a few steps away from her.

“I’m sorry but what else was I supposed to do ? Don’t tell me the advocate of less fortunate citizens that you are would have wanted me to force our sick driver to still do his job and get me here on time…”

She looked at him and he couldn’t help but smile. He had her there, stunning her enough with his remark to leave her speechless.

Silently, she led him upstairs and walked down a long corridor to a door at the very end of it. She pushed it open, revealing a bedroom bigger than the apartment Coriolanus and his family used to live in. There was a bed larger and with more pillows and sheets than she could possibly need, a desk and modern bookshelves lining the walls, and a large window displaying the nicest view of the Capitol he had ever seen, even the president probably didn’t get to see such a magnificent scenery from his bedroom.

“What are you gaping at ?” She asked him, her tone still annoyingly upset. “Do I have to remind you - again - that we have an assignment to work on ?”

Coriolanus resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her and instead, decided to smile in a way he knew usually won everyone over to his cause. But she, as always, didn’t seem very receptive to it. She didn’t even bother to politely smirk back at him, sitting down at her desk and taking out her studying material with a loud, obnoxious, sigh.

He sat next to her and fix his gaze to the white paper in front of her, on which she only had written the title of their project for now. It was no surprise that the assignment they had been given revolved around the Hunger Games. Coriolanus knew that Dr Gaul and her team liked to get the opinions of university and academy students alike from time to times, in hopes of finding new ideas to improve the games. All they had to do was write down a few suggestions, detail why they believed it could work and then it would be done, they’d never have to speak to each other ever again… Except that their point of view on the Hunger Games were completely opposed to each other, and that was the very reason why Coriolanus believed their professor wanted to mess with him by pairing him up with her.

“I think the tributes shouldn’t be on display for all to see at the zoo, they are not animals.” She started. And once again, he had to resist his urge to roll his eyes at her.

“Having them there is a good way to get people to be interested in them.” He countered, wondering if all her ideas would be as counterproductive as this one.

“Maybe but they deserve some dignity… The Capitol could have them stay in comfortable bedrooms, give them some privacy and not mix them all together to avoid accidents…” She continued, and maybe she had a point when it came to that last argument. “Imagine being treated like an animal when you are already tired, starving and afraid! People were talking about you being a great mentor a few years ago, they said you brought them food so you know that it’s not right...”

“Feeding them would give them enough strength to fight and in turns, it might give us a better show.” He thought, out loud.

“That’s not what I’m suggesting.” She protested, clearly upset that the only thing he seemed to care about was making the games even worst.

“No, indeed, you are suggesting we treat rebels who have no shame and no hesitation when attacking us and killing our people, with more honor than what they deserve.”

“Because they still are human beings! And the tributes are just children, they didn’t do anything wrong…”

“The districts attacked the Capitol!” He exclaimed, unable to understand why she defended people who perpetuated such cruel acts.

“But children have no say in politics, they are innocents! If we put some notorious criminals in there instead, then maybe it’ll be more fair, especially if the idea is to punish the rebels for their crimes.”

“Children are sent into the arena to represent all the innocent lives we lost during the war, changing that wouldn’t make sense…”

“But it’s barbaric !” She protested, clearly disgusted by his point of view.

“It’s fair!” He riposted, determined to not let her point of view on the matter affect the quality of their assignment.

She opened her mouth, ready to counter with something but the voice of her mother, calling her name from behind the door interrupted her. She was fuming, her brows furrowed in disapproval and her knuckles white with frustration as she got up and excused herself to go open her bedroom door for her intrusive mother.

“Did you think about offering your friend some tea and scones ? Or maybe a saltier snack ? It’s not every day that you get such an opportunity to make a good impression on a man of his rank, did you remember to mention that your father is studying some marriage arrangements for you?” The mother said, whispering but he still heard every word of it. She glanced over her shoulder with embarrassment, fully aware that her mother wasn’t exactly being discreet so she stepped out of her room and closed the door behind her, hoping to make their conversation more private.

Coriolanus chuckled and moved the piece of paper in front of him, pondering which of his ideas he should present first. Surely, he couldn’t let her write her own, it would cost him his position as top of the class and might even flag him as a potential traitor if he showed this much mercy to the districts and their tributes.

He shook his head as he thought about the things she said, wondering how she could possibly think that she could get away with such ideas on their assignment. Even if the Hunger Games were revolting and barbaric in her eyes, it would have been smarter on her part to simply comply to what the university expected of her… But Coriolanus guessed she had nothing to worry about with a family as wealthy and powerful as hers, she could go on and protest against the Games, defend criminals and rebels and get away with it with a single word from her all mighty father… In many ways she reminded him of a certain boy he used to know, back during his Academy days. The kind to do foolish things and end up hanging from a tree in a public place.

Lost in his thoughts, unwanted memories filling his head, his pencil ripped on the page, a sharp line ruining the neat start of his presentation. He sighed and looked around, in search of an eraser to try and fix his unaesthetic mistake. He foraged through the compartiments of the desk, finding an exaggerated amount of study supplies and notebooks in each one but not a single item he could use to fix the page.

He sighed again as he moved to open the last drawer, forcing it a bit as it seemed blocked by a plastic box. Intrigued, he pulled it out and opened it, peeking inside despite knowing full well that he surely wouldn’t find what he was looking for in there. But his curiosity simply got the best of him, after all, he wanted - no, needed - to know what kind of dirty secret a woman like her may hide. Because if there was something he had learned in the past few years, it was that he was better off knowing everybody’s secrets in case he found himself in need of leverage.

He wasn’t disappointed when he saw what was inside the box, his eyes growing wide and his mouth hanging open as he took a closer look at the toy hidden in the box. It was shaped like a penis, making its purpose pretty clear. He felt his whole body tingle at the sight of such an unexpected discovery, his mind going blank when he realized that the toy was roughly the same size as his own cock. Even the veins on the shaft and the soft pink head resembled his, a realization that caused his imagination to run wild with images of her using this toy to pleasure herself. Did she like the feel of the veins rubbing against her walls ? Did her pussy have to stretch to accommodate for such a big toy or was she so used to it that it fitted her like a glove by now ? And if it did, did it mean that his own cock would fit effortlessly inside her too ? There was no way she could know what his cock was like, yet with an ego like his, he couldn’t help but wonder if she had chosen this toy in particular because it was almost a perfect replica of him, a device to train herself to take his whole size in, perfectly.

Her footsteps and the door opening pulled him out of his contemplation. He shoved the toy back in its box and threw the plastic container across the room. It landed on the bed, next to a pillow that slightly concealed it.

She walked through her bedroom and sat back down at the desk without noticing the blush on her classmate’s cheeks or the bulge in his pants.

“My mother insists that you stay to have dinner with us, she wants you to meet my father. I said you had other plans but she won’t listen.” She sighed, grabbing a pen from one of the drawers he had explored. “But before thinking about dinner, maybe we should at least get started on this assignment.”

He watched her, his perception of her completely altered by what he had discovered hidden in her desk. Now all he could think about was her, using her replica of his cock to pleasure herself multiple times a day.

“Well, I thought about your idea of sending criminals into the arena, I don’t think it will be good enough for our professors but if it’s important to you, we can write it down…” He offered, deciding that being in her good graces might help his cause.

She raised an eyebrow, sucpiciously glaring back at him.

“And what exactly would this great act of generosity on your part cost me ?” She demanded, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that made her cleavage even more voluminous.

“What makes you think I’ll ask for something in exchange ?” Coriolanus asked her, really struggling to look at her beautiful eyes and not lower below her neck.

“My father’s a businessman, I know nothing is ever free.” She stated and he couldn’t help but grin at her answer, it was the first smart thing he had ever heard her say and it happened to align perfectly with the way he viewed the world too.

Instead of answering, he leaned down, his hand brushing over the last drawer of her desk, causing the young woman to jump off her seat in panic.

“Don’t!” She warned, ready to throw herself between him and the content of her secret box to keep him from seeing what was inside… Buf from the amused smirk that instantly appeared on his face, she understood that somehow, he already knew. “Did you go through my stuff ?!”

“I was looking for an eraser.” He justified, which was the truth after all.

“Then you should have asked, not rummaged around in my bedroom !” She fumed. She opened the drawer in question herself, instantly blanching as she found it empty.

“So here’s the deal, I’ll write down your idea on our paper but in exchange, I want to see how you use your big toy to make yourself feel good.”

She stayed silent for a moment, looking at him with a mix of mortification and anger.

“You can’t be serious.” She finally said, hesitating between a scoff or a slap across his face.

“Oh I’m very serious when it comes to making deals.” He assured her, leaning back on his chair in a victorious stance.

“Alright… What do you want to know ?” She asked, still slightly hesitant.

“I don’t want you to tell me about it, I want a demo.”

“You…” She started, but the embarrassment that she felt stopped her from finishing her sentence, her cheeks turning crimson when she finally spotted her precious box on her bedsheet. “You’ll put my idea on our assignment and defend it in front of our professors ? In front of Dr Gaul if it’s considered worth being transferred to her ?”

“I will.” He promised, doing his best to not scoff at how naive she was. There was no way Dr Gaul would ever be interested in her ridiculous ideas to care for the tributes, all the head game maker wanted was more blood and gore to serve as an example for years to come.

She nodded and took a deep breath, standing straighter and holding her head high like a true lady of the high society of Panem as she walked to her bed. She sat on the edge, gulping down her anxiety as she reached for the plastic box and retrieved her very realistic looking toy.

Coriolanus sat straighter on his chair in anticipation of the show that he was about to witness, all the blood in his veins suddenly changing course and rushing to his cock instead, making it even harder and bigger as it strained against the fabric of his white pants.

It took her another couple of minutes to start moving again, very visibly at war with herself about it all. When she finally moved to tug her pants off and closed her eyes as she brought the toy to her lips, Coriolanus already felt on the edge of bursting into his pants.

He shuddered as he watched her suck on the pink tip with hunger, giving him a clear picture of what it would look like if he ever had the opportunity to fuck her pretty mouth. Drops of saliva escaped from her lips, rolling down the veiny length she tightly held in her fist. He was watching so attentively, he could almost feel everything on his own cock, begging to replace the toy already. But he behaved, not interrupting her until she stopped licking the toy, satisfied with the amount of saliva she had coated it in.

He saw her fingers caressing their way down her stomach with still a bit of uncertainty. Then, she tugged her panties aside, revealing her perfect pussy to him. Once again, his mind went blank with shock as he observed the shiny sheen that coated her skin, a clear sign that, despite exceptionally having a spectator this time, she still was pretty aroused at the thought of fucking herself with her big toy.

She pushed the tip of the fake cock between her folds, moving it up and down a few times to spread her arousal and the saliva still coating the silicone further. It seemed pleasurable already, making her close her eyes again and lean back down on her bed, her legs folded against her stomach, giving her attentive onlooker the best view possible of her wet pussy.

Finally, she pushed the soft tip inside her, gasping as her hole stretched to welcome it in. Coriolanus shuddered again, the urge to touch himself in front of such a delightful show becoming almost unbearable. He dug his nails into the armrests of his chair, focusing his pale gaze on the length of the toy slowly disappearing as it entered her and stretched her out wider and wider.

Her breathing was loud and sharp, her belly rising and falling almost in synch with the movements of her hand, pulling the toy in and out of her, agonizingly slowly at first. Did she like to be teased ? Or was she simply the kind of girl that needed to take it slow ? Coriolanus couldn’t quite decide but the one thing he knew without the shadow of a doubt was that, if it had been him and not some kind of silicone replica that she had full control over, he wouldn’t have been as patient and gentle with her.

Eventually, her toes curled and she sounded like she was struggling to be silent, biting down on her lower lip as she arched her back and came with a desperate whimper.

Even if it had been a bit too slow and soft for his taste, it still had been a lovely demonstration. She knew her body so well that it didn’t take long for her to climax, but he was still curious to see more. So much more.

She sat back straight on her bed, after pulling the toy out of her. A shiny layer of her arousal still covered the pink synthetic material. Her face was flushed and she didn’t dare to look at Coriolanus right away, awkwardly pulling her panties back in place instead.

“I’m not sure if you fully held your end of the deal.” He stated and she glanced at him, still lightly panting.

“What else did you expect me to do ?” She asked, her tone frustrated and breathless.

“Well, I’m sure you know better ways to put that suction cup in good use.” He remarked, pointing at the round end of the toy. She looked at it, as if she needed to make sure it was indeed a thing and blushed, her face turning a few shades darker, making his imagination run wild with possibilities, surely if that was her reaction, she must have been doing some even filthier things with the help of that suction cup to hold her toy in place. “Show me.”

His voice was low and commanding which didn’t leave her any opportunity to protest. Or maybe it was just because she actually enjoyed being the center of his attention, showing him her body and the delicious things it could do in a controlled way.

She stood up, bringing her hand to her mouth and spitting in her palm. She used her saliva to prepare the suction cup to stick, but Coriolanus’s body was reacting in a whole different way to such a suggestive gesture.

He had expected her to stick her toy up in the shower, or maybe on the shiny surface of her desk, but never had he imagined she would glue it to the large window behind which the sun was setting on the Capitol.

He admired the curves of her body, her ass still cupped by her wet panties and his need for relief became almost painful. His cock was begging to cum inside her warm pussy and yet, she preferred to be fucked by a plastic toy mimicking his size.

This time, she pushed her panties down to her knees and turned her back to the window. She took a few careful steps backwards and impaled herself on her toy, her gasp of pleasure loudly resounding through her bedroom, making his cock twitch with despair still constricted inside his pants.

She seemed to enjoy herself even more this way, getting fucked from behind with her legs closed and the whole city to witness how her dripping cunt swallowed the replica, over and over again as she rocked her hips back and forth.

“Are you not concerned someone might see you ?” Coriolanus couldn’t help but ask, wondering if - if he managed to sneak into her street at night - he might be able to watch her from the sidewalk across the street as she used her window as a prop for pleasuring herself.

“Not really, the possibility of being watched by strangers always sounded pretty exciting to me.” She admitted, so caught up in the intensity of the pleasure she was giving herself that she didn’t care about being embarassed anymore, shamelessly pleasuring herself as she even held his gaze with defiance.

She squeezed her round boobs with each of her hands, leaning slightly forward as her legs started trembling from her efforts. She was so close to him, it would have been easy for him to pull his erection out and force her to take it into her mouth as she’d keep rocking herself against her toy. They both would have enjoyed it immensely, but Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman and, as his request had only been about watching and not touching, he made sure to respect it, even if it pretty much equaled torture.

A few desperate cries escaped her lips as they still kept their gaze glued to each other and the sticky sounds of the toy thrusting inside her soaked pussy filling the room were enough to make his cock unload itself inside his pants, the warmth spreading over the fabric as it kept coming out like an erupting volcano, making him feel pretty miserable about it all. She hadn’t even touched him after all.

It didn’t take long for her to follow him into a blissful climax, her breathing becoming so erratic that it almost sounded like she was suffocating until she fully pushed herself back, fully leaning her body against the window, the toy completely buried inside her as she whimpered even louder, shaking with pleasure and relief.

“Coriolanus.” She breathed, as she shook with violent spasms of pleasure and another load of wasted cum pooled in his pants at the sound of his name on her lips. Was she thinking about him ? Imagining that it was him who was fucking her from behind ? Or was she just attempting to speak to him and tell him that the demo was over now ? Whatever it may be, he was pretty sure that he’d never forget such a lovely sound, a melody to his ears.

“Can we… Get back to… Our assignment now ?” She asked, breathlessly as she once again pulled the toy out of her and put her panties back on.

“Of course.” He nodded, glad that she didn’t notice the wet spot on his pants. He didn’t want to seem pathetic for coming undone without any help.

She put her pants back on and abandoned her wet toy on top of her bed and, despite the relief he got, it took Coriolanus all his willpower to not attempt to fuck his classmate on top of her desk for good measure. But, charming as always, he behaved, even letting her believe that the show she had given him didn’t have much of an effect on him and only served to satisfy his curiosity… Little did she know that, as soon as he got back home that evening and after he rewrote their entire paper, he spent hours pumping his cock and milking every last drop of cum out of his body while thinking about her perfect curves and the delightful sounds she made when she was getting fucked by what could have been his own cock.

(Masterlist) - (Part 2)

Other series:

[anonymouslymadebydesign]

Nocturna

Fandom : Welcome Home

Ship : Wally Darling x Male ! Novelist Reader

Word Count, Chapter 1- : 2324

Content Warnings, Chapter 1 : N/A

Synopsis : You, a well published author, have just moved to The Neighborhood, a cozy little place in a tiny town that barely made the map. As you settle in and begin your latest novel, you learn more about the residents that already reside within the Neighborhood. Everyone is very nice and polite, you fit in perfectly !

The only difference between you and your new neighbors is your fine touch of heavenly temper. But they know you’re the nicest neighbor a puppet could ask for, right ?

✿ ⌂ ✿ ⌂ ✿ ⌂

You stretched your arms high above your head as you watched the trees wizz by from your window seat. The train you sat in was currently slowly but surely slowing down, signaling your upcoming arrival. You had moved to a small town with an even smaller population with the help of your most recent selling novel. The extra cash you got from the novel was just enough to break your lease and get out of the city. Moving from a crowded townhouse to an actual stand alone home was exciting, but also daunting. You didn’t know anyone here, hell, you hardly even knew the town you were going to, only from sleight of mouth or when used as a landmark when traveling to further locations.

A voice from the front of the train announced that you had finally come to a full stop and were free to grab what items you had brought on. Unsure of how long they’d stay, seeing as you were the only one getting off at this stop, you quickly thanked the train attendant as you snatched your little luggage bag off the top rack before jogging off the train.

Things hadn’t worked out quite how you wanted them to, schedules didn’t like up, and people were unwilling to compromise, which ended up with you having to send all your stuff ahead and hopefully all arrive accounted for. Not being able to supervise your items, leaving them in the hands of complete strangers, made you nervous. Not only had you just bought a new typewriter, but all your manuscripts, outlines for various projects, and an obscene collection of books were in the hands of people you don’t know. Oh god, even thinking about finding your brand new typewriter with even a dent made you restless.

As the train began to pull away from the stop, you took in a deep breath as you squared your shoulders. “No time like the present. Besides, if the movers were kind, all our items should be in our new home.” You said to yourself aloud.

Other than the inhabitants of the forest around you, you were completely alone. Seemed like this place didn’t get enough stops in town to warrant anyone supervising the train stop. Briefly wondering how those who live here come and go, you began walking on the only path available. An old sign, easily twenty years your senior, said the Neighborhood was just up ahead, an easy half mile right up the street.

With just your carry-on bag that contained your previous day's clothes, you had to stay in a little motel the night before your train departed, the walk to the main part of the town wasn’t so bad. The forest that surrounded it was lush with life, beautifully captivating, and it was enough to think about how hardly anyone lived here despite its wondrous surrounding life.

As more and more buildings came into view you realized suddenly you weren’t sure which was yours. You had remembered the address for it but upon entering the town you realized you weren’t quite sure where it exactly was.

“Oh, a little shop!” You perked up upon seeing the bodega just ahead. “I’m sure the shopkeeper knows the way.”

The building was a vibrant shade of blue, large red and white striped awnings that draped over the entire front, cutely named “Howdy’s Place” in nice green lettering. One of the massive windows that shown toward you displayed a variety of items, some household objects and other things, while the window adjacent had multiple types of produce neatly stacked in their respective bins.

‘This must be the town's bodega, like the one back home.’ You thought as you stepped inside. The air inside was still, soft music from the overhead radio crackled in and out, and distant sweeping could be heard from across the aisles.

“Excuse me?” You called out, cupping one hand around your mouth to carry your voice. “Sorry to bother you, but I need a bit of help.”

“Be right there!” A man's voice replied to you, the audible smack of the broom he had been using hitting the wall, and footsteps clicking on the linoleum floor all sounded within seconds of each other.

“Oh!” He paused upon rounding the corner and locking eyes with you. “You must be the new resident!” He smiled widely and his eye shown with excitement.

‘Ah, dammit all.’ You thought the minute he greeted you. Irritability crept up your throat and you felt your eyebrows twitch, nearly feeling inclined to scowl at this man. So word of your arrival had been passed around, no big deal, a new resident probably was exciting for them, only god knows when the last person came and left. ‘Swallow it.’ You followed your own command while putting on your best face.

“Yes, that would be me!” You matched his cheery disposition, walked towards him, and stuck out a hand. “A pleasure to meet you, I’m (F/N) (L/N). Thank you for having me.”

“I’m Howdy Pillar, a pleasure to meet you as well!” He chuckled as he shook your hand. “How can I help you, young man?”

“If it’s not trouble to you, see, I just got off my train and don’t seem to know the layout of your town very well.” You rubbed the back of your neck feeling slightly guilty. “I’m lookin’ for 1904 Cherry Street, you wouldn’t happen to know where that is, would you?”

“You’re in luck, cause that’s exactly the street right behind here. Cmon, I’ll show you how to get there.” Howdy gestured to you to follow him as he left the shop, opening the door open for you with one of his many arms.

“Don’t…you need someone to watch the shop while we’re gone?” You asked, looking around the empty store. It seemed like Howdy was the sole person who worked and operated the place.

“Don’t you worry about that, neighbor. I've got the keys right here.” He patted his bright orange apron pockets.

Letting out a knowing ‘ahh’ you thanked him as you exited the bodega and he locked the door behind you.

As he began walking you to your new home, he pointed to the various houses that surrounded the Neighborhood. “You’ll see the town is more in a circle shape than anything else. Although, this street that connects to the train station makes it look like a tree from a map's view. The bodega is two floors, upstairs bein’ my house and downstairs bein’ the shop. We’re all pretty spread out around here so you’ll have plenty of space to yourself.” Howdy explained as he took you along a smaller path of stones and pressed grass.

‘People will always carve out a desired path, even with one already present.’ You mused internally as the two of you strayed off the main path and to the adjacent street.

“Those two houses we just passed back there belong to Sally and Poppy’s, both who I’m sure you’ll run into soon enough.

“Who’s was that in the center? The one a bit further from here, near your shop?” You asked feeling curious.

“That’s Home! Wally lives there, Wally Darling.”

“Wally Darling,” You parroted back tasting the new name on your tongue. It was nice. “What a charming name.”

Howdy laughed a deep hearty laugh at this. “He lives up to his name too, although he can be a bit rambunctious. He’s my main customer when it comes to apples, I’ll tell you what, for such a little guy he can sure pack em away.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his description of the man. At first, especially upon arrival, you were anxious to meet those who lived here. But now, chatting away with Howdy, you felt at ease. How he spoke of his neighbors and friends made the knot in your stomach unravel.

“Ah! Here we are,” Howdy stopped suddenly, two arms on his hips and the others pointed at your new home. “1904 Cherry Street.”

It was a simple house, really. Unlike the houses you had passed before, many which seemed to be two stories like Howdys own, this sat at a single floor. What it lacked in height, though, it made up for in length. It was exactly like your realtor had shown you before you moved, and within the house you could see dozens upon dozens of cardboard boxes, hopefully, containing every single one of your belongings.

“Thank you for walkin me to my new home. You have a very lovely neighborhood.” You nodded in thanks as you pulled the house keys out of your bag.

��It’s no problem,” Howdy said while putting a pair of hands on his hips. The other arms fiddled with the hem of his apron seemingly anxious. You quickly looked from his hands to his face, seeing a familiar expression.

“You got a question?”

Howdy chuckled. “I don’t mean to sound intrusive but, ah, what made you move to our little town? I mean, what do you do for work?”

“Oh, I’m a writer. I’ve been writing books for a couple of years now, and uh, my latest novel gave me enough push to move outta the big city.” You explained, jerking a thumb back to the mountain of boxes shoved against the living room windows. “Those boxes there will hopefully have my typewriter and scripts in em.”

Howdys expression changed from that of anxiety to curiosity. “An author!” He exclaimed. “That must be a lotta fun.”

His boyish like happiness made you laugh. “Yeah, it can be. Although,” You turned your body slightly towards your house to glare at the unsuspecting boxes. “I’m about to find out if those jackasses were able to keep all my shit together and not loose anything.” Your voice dropped flat, sounding upset.

You had heard stories of people moving and somehow between point A and B, boxes seemed to vanish into thin air. The idea alone of movers loosing your items, even a single box, was enough to cause that familiar feeling of anger and irritability crawl its way back up your throat. How could someone be so careless with your items, anyone for that matter, to loose a few items between moving? Isn’t that their job, moving you and your things from one place to another? You could feel yourself getting heated.

‘Don’t loose your temper, (Y/N).’

“O-Oh…” Was all you heard from Howdy.

You had to remember where you were quickly. Who you were, when you were, and what you were doing. “Ah- Sorry! Sorry, gosh, lost myself a little there.” You returned back to facing him once more. “I’ve, uh, got a bit of a temper that I’m working on. Also, I’ve got a lot of important and expensive stuff in there. If anything’s lost, I’d be awfully upset.” You found yourself apologizing and trying not to vomit too many words while backtracking.

Howdys body seemed to relax at this, and it wasn’t until he loosened up visibly, that you realized you were holding yourself just as tense. “I see,” He nodded understandingly. “I wouldn’t move outta here, but if I absolutely had to and found my things had up and gone, well, I wouldn’t blame ya for getting upset.”

“Sorry about that..”

“It’s okay,” Howdy placed a hand on your shoulder before patting it. “If you ever need me, you know where to find me.”

The two of you said your goodbyes before you waved him off and back into the main section of the town.

“Alright. Let’s check if we got all our stuff.” You mumbled, watching the caterpillars silhouette disappear over the hill. Turning around and fiddling with your keys, finding the main house key, you finally let yourself inside to get to work.

✿ ⌂ ✿ ⌂ ✿ ⌂

Unbeknownst to you, your simple arrival in town had gotten everyone excited. You were quite literally the talk of the town.

“You spoke to them!” Sally had cried out, sprawling herself dramatically against Howdy's front counter. “What were they like? What’s their name? How old are they? What do they like to do?”

“Hold on, hold on!” Howdy held up his hands defensively. “I only helped him find his house is all! I didn’t pry like a nosey Nancy, now.”

“Learn anything neat?” Sally asked, peeping out from her shirts puffy sleeves, her eyes full of fake unshed tears. The theatrics never stop.

“Well, he’s a writer. An author! He didn’t say what kind of books he writes, other than that whatever his latest novel gave him enough money to move here.” Howdy said. “He mentioned he’s got a bit of a temper that he’s working on. Maybe livin’ in the city was no good for him, ya know, bad for his mental health.”

“That’s so cool, being from the city!” Julie pipped up. “Now I really REALLY wanna meet him.”

“Everyone does,” Barnaby agreed. “But it’s best not to crowd him all at the same time. Everyone trying to get to know him on his first might scare him into never comin’ out. And if he’s workin on not being so snippish, then crowding him might make him worse.”

Julie and Sally groaned at this, but they knew Barnaby was right. Everyone in town trying to clammer for your attention might freak you out, and who’s to say if they make a good impression or not. Howdy made a good one, that’s for sure, but the rest of the Neighborhood all at once?

“What do you think, Wally?” Barnaby asked.

“Hmm..” Wally hummed thoughtfully looking out the window in the general direction of your house. “I think Barnaby is right…what if he’s nervous? It is his first day home afterall.”

Howdy clapped his hands bringing everyone’s attention towars him. “Alright everyone, we’ll introduce ourselves slowly, over time, ease him into it.”

✿ ⌂ ✿ ⌂ ✿ ⌂

[x-ceirios-x]

restore life the way it should be

part four (and final part) of a series about the ashfair family and their history. prev | next

takes place moments after city of fallen angels, chapter 19: hell is satisfied (part 2)

rowan finally has the chance to ask the questions they'd been asking for eight years, to aric, who is finally ready to answer them. while explaining, he reflects on moments in his life with the people that were the most important.

cw: emotional scenes, mentions of major character death, mild cursing

Aric remembered New York, but it had never been like this. Growing up in the Heights when the mundane drug situation was worse instead of better, he struggled to accept that Brooklyn could look so beautiful. Then again, it was a nicer neighborhood: couples walked by in designer clothes with flashy logos, flaunting whatever money they had. A few years ago, they would have been fun to follow and shake up with his older friends if he was hurting for money at home. Instead, he walked down the street in his jeans that were torn to shreds, the nicest denim jacket he could find, and his only vest that didn’t have a hole in the side. He thought he looked like a knockoff Marty McFly. His sneakers were new, but they were also a gift from Céline for his birthday. She grew tired of him complaining his toes were cold, or of seeing his socks poke out of the end. 

Snow fell from the sky, though it didn’t accumulate much on the ground. A few piles sat on the inside edge of the sidewalk, kicked against apartments and brownstones, but the streets were surprisingly clear. Next to him, Mollie Penhallow looked around the city, her eyes shining. He -struggled to look at the city with such an optimistic view—even as an artist, Mollie was the one that found the beauty in everything. He watched as snow fell into her hair, covered by a blue beanie she’d bought on the same trip Céline insisted he needed new sneakers. He’d realized that morning the sweatshirt she was wearing was actually his, with the paint stains and cigarette burns on the sleeves. If that was one good thing becoming a shadowhunter did for him, it was stopping his habit. 

“How did you ever manage to make a friend that lives here?” he wondered aloud, speaking mostly to himself. The question was fair enough. Then again, he felt like all Shadowhunters had some weird, skeletons-in-the-closet type relationships with people. Apparently, most of his friends’ families had all known each other for centuries. Even Jeremy, whose dad was a bit of a shut-in (and a drunk, but they didn’t talk about that part often. Not his favorite topic; Aric had a personal grudge against the guy). 

Mollie shrugged. “I told you before, I helped him with this little vampire problem one time when I was here with Dad,” she said. It was the same story she’d told him a million times before, but Jeremy had summarized some of the paperwork for him: it was a much deeper case than she usually let on. She wondered if it was because she didn’t like to talk about it, or if she did it for the mystery. “Dad’s good friends with Tamara Whitelaw’s parents, so we visit once in a while. Summer holidays and all that.”

“Because you go to New York for summer vacation,” he said sarcastically. “You Shadowhunters are insane. Only time I left the country was for the damn Academy.”

She snickered at his comment. “We don’t have to pay for travel, you know. Makes a difference.”

With that, she took his hand and led him inside one of the apartment buildings. It was strange to be back in the city, but what was even stranger was how casual Mollie was with such affection. He struggled to show how much she cared for her like that. Instead, he did things like pick flowers or draw little things on her notes, always in red pen, like she liked it to be. 

They stood in the elevator quietly for a moment. He barely knew who this Magnus Bane guy was—not because he didn’t pay attention, but because Mollie hardly talked about him. He knew he was the High Warlock so he was preparing himself for tense, way-too-respectful small talk and an apology hot cocoa after this. It couldn’t be worse than when he met her father for the first time and he heard a couple insults relating to his Dominican heritage, right? 

“Is this going to be like the last time I met one of your Downworld friends?” he asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. His mood, at least. Mollie was excitedly rocking on her heels. “You know, that time we met that vampire in Zürich and she tried to kill me?”

Mollie giggled and shook her head. The bit of her hair that stuck out of the hat bounced as she moved. He’d never been one for drawing portraits, but seeing her grin like that made his hands itch for his pencils. Freckles dotted the tops of her cheeks, even in the winter, and her green eyes crinkled when she laughed. She was beautiful in the same way his first sunset he witnessed at the Academy was—so colorful, so full of life and light that it was breathtaking to witness. 

“That was a one-time deal. And, also, a bit of a trap for her. I just needed someone that was good enough eye candy to distract her long enough that I could—” She made a noise that simulated a crack and moved her hand as she would have with her whip, replaying his memory of watching the vampire’s head come off and land on the floor. At the time, it had been disgusting but looking back on it, it was funny. He supposed that was how all Shadowhunters dealt with the things they saw. 

“Is that all I am to you?” he asked sarcastically. “Eye candy? One of your Bond girls?”

“I don’t know what that is, but yes.” She flashed him a smile, one that he didn’t trust right away—over the years, he’d learned her tells, and he knew she was plotting something. Just when he let his guard down, she dropped his hand and pinched his ass. He yelped and nudged her arm, knocking her to the side slightly. She, in return, pushed him a little harder and made him fall into the wall of the elevator. 

He laughed as the doors opened and ran his hand through his hair. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he said teasingly, though spared no time catching up with her in the hallway as she walked away. “Really, though. You think this friend of yours will like me?”

“All the friends I’ve introduced you to so far love you. Hell, you stole one of my best friends to be your parabatai.”

“Gimme a few months.” His ascension, as well as those in his year, was scheduled for the end of the school term in May, and he tried his hardest not to think about it. He knew the chances of things going wrong, but he was doing all he could to prepare. If everything went according to plan, he and Jeremy planned on going through the first of the parabatai trials just a few months later. 

Mollie stopped in front of an ornate front door, much nicer-looking than the ones he’d seen on the way down to the elevator. She stood there for a moment, then turned to face him. “I know you’re nervous,” she said, her hand coming up to hold the side of his face. Her fingers were freezing from the outside air, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. “I also know that Magnus is about to charm your pants off, and you’re gonna love him.”

He looked at her curiously. “I hope you don’t mean literally.”

She only laughed and turned away. She reached up to knock on the door, but instead, the door swung open. No one was in the entryway opening it, but a voice called from down the hall, “you two were taking too long.”

Mollie chuckled and shed her winter jacket, as did he, and she led him through the apartment. The walls had the most god-awful wallpaper he’d seen since he visited his grandparents in The Dominican Republic when he was a child, and the furniture and decoration seemed to match. Everything was ill-sorted, but at the same time, coordinated in its own, strange way. Everything in the living room, he noticed as they walked by, was its own statement piece, but the place was very clean for how busy it looked. She dragged him onward and into the kitchen, connected to the living room, where a man with a black T-shirt and sparkling pink pants stood facing away from them. He was tall and tan with very dark hair, colored electric blue on the ends, and he noticed his nails were painted as he watched him bounce around the kitchen, grabbing various jars and vials of different ingredients from all over the kitchen. 

He stood awkwardly against the wall, staying out of his way, as he whirled around the kitchen. Mollie chuckled and stood with him, her hand comfortingly in his. Despite his nerves, she was there with him. When Mollie was around, there was nothing that could go wrong.

“Hand me that jar, would you?” he asked, not looking away from the book he was reading. Mollie followed his gesture and grabbed something off the shelf on the wall, sliding it to him on the counter easily. He caught it with little effort and poured the contents into the bowl in front of him. With a few words in a language he didn’t know, the mixture turned a vibrant magenta color. He looked around more—the kitchen was much brighter than the living room, with a large picture window next to the dining room table shoved in the corner. A large plant hung from the ceiling, its teal pattern a nice accent to the yellow and white kitchen. With a quick wave, everything disappeared except for the now-red bottle in his hand, which he tucked away in a cabinet above his head.

Magnus turned and beamed at Mollie. “How are you, my dear?” he asked, and without a second's delay, ran towards him and hugged him. Her feet kicked off the ground as she squealed in excitement, her arms around his neck. It took everything in Aric not to frown. 

He set her down quickly, however. “I’m sorry about all that. I promised a friend a little potion. It is so wonderful to see you again.”

“It’s been too long,” she agreed. She came back to Aric, only to drag him closer. “Magnus, I want you meet my boyfriend.” She spoke with much emphasis, which made heat rise to Aric’s cheeks. They’d been friends for a long time and the prospect of being her boyfriend was still a little new to his ears. “Aric Darrius. Aric, this is Magnus Bane, High Warlock of Brooklyn and a very good friend of mine.”

Magnus’s eyes settled on him, and he noticed that they were an unnerving yellow-green color, and in a similar shape to that of a cat’s. He smiled, nonetheless, and extended his hand to shake. “I’ve heard good things,” he said. “I hope you can’t say the same thing.”

He shook his hand, though was taken off guard by the glittering wink he dropped. Very literally glittering, as it was the most makeup he’d ever seen a man wear (if you discount the videos of David Bowie that came on the TV once in a while when he was home). 

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” Mollie said, and based on her laughter, Aric made an effort to treat it as a joke. He wasn’t sure how serious Magnus was, but he didn’t want to think about it too much. He turned away, though this time, he produced three mugs and began brewing coffee. “Mollie, if you want your whipped cream, there’s some on the door in the fridge,” he said over his shoulder. “Aric, how do you like yours?”

“Loaded with sugar,” Mollie answered for him, shooting him a teasing smile. “He hates the bitterness.”

“I think Jeremy is insane that he can drink straight black coffee,” he said with a sigh. “There’s nothing wrong with sugar. I’m perfectly fine with being diabetic by thirty.”

“You say that now,” she said, and grabbed the cream for Magnus, who took it graciously. He made the three cups for each of them, with some whipped cream and cinnamon on top for Mollie’s. He handed them each their mugs, which Aric appreciated to warm his cold fingers, and gestured for them to follow him back into the living room. Cheesy pop music came from nowhere—no speakers he could see, nor was the TV playing anything—and the lights turned on without anyone hitting a switch. Maybe that was the way warlocks lived: without the need to do ordinary tasks. Mollie sat on the couch and he joined her, keeping careful hold of the mug that was helping keep him warm. 

“So, Aric,” Magnus said, sitting down in the armchair a few feet away. “Mollie tells me you’re quite the artist.”

He froze for a moment, when he realized that wasn’t anything accusatory. The longer he was here, the more this felt like a job interview than meeting one of Mollie’s friends. “I, uh…I do some stuff, yeah,” he said. “Nothing major.”

“You mean not like when you got detentions for a week because you spray painted Freeman’s window because he called you some name in your maths class?”

“I only did that because he’s a racist prick,” he muttered, glancing at Magnus to gauge his reaction. He noticed Magnus’s style immediately and it was clear to him that he was quite the…flamboyant type. He didn’t think he’d have an issue with something like that. The only boy he knew at school that dressed like that was ridiculed to no end—then again, as High Warlock, he didn’t think anyone was willing to outright say anything wrong to him. 

Magnus grinned a cat-like smile. He reminded him of the Cheshire Cat—not that Mollie would know what that was. “A rebel,” he said. “I like that. So you’re the bad influence that’s giving Mollie the guts to stand up for herself better.”

Aric flushed. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Sure, Mollie had gotten her first write up because they’d cut class together, but he wasn’t that terrible of an influence, was he?

“I stand up for myself fine, thank you,” she said stubbornly. “I did tell my dad off for making me try to watch Gunny last-minute today, though. Told him I was leaving, I had plans, and I was seventeen and could get around New York perfectly fine by myself.”

He nodded and gestured vaguely to Aric. “My point exactly. You managed to turn the little bookworm into someone who takes no shit. I’m amazed.”

“Now if you could do the same to Jer, we’d all be happy.” She chuckled; Aric relaxed as he realized that it wasn’t something Magnus was upset about. He was actually impressed. Aric didn’t feel like he’d changed Mollie at all, but instead, she’d changed him. For the better. He looked over and saw that same crinkle near her eye when she smiled, and he smiled back. He remembered being fourteen and on the brink of expulsion from the Shadowhunter Academy because of his poor grades and behavior; he’d been acting out in class, started a fight with someone, and had been graffitiing the halls, when Professor Rosenhart called him to his office. He taught several different language classes, demonic and Earthly, but also managed the study hall that he was in. He met Mollie that day, and was told the only way he was going to stay in the school is if agreed to clean up his act and agreed to peer tutoring. She was in the same year, though in the nephilim track, and was top of her class. She had a brilliant smile and cheerful attitude that, at the time, pissed him off more than anything, but she proved how genuine she was, and that she wasn’t going to pull the mean-girl card and talk shit about him behind his back. Once he warmed up to her, they became good friends. He couldn’t describe the impact she had on his life. He had friends, ones that really cared about him, and for once he was happy. Not angry all the time. 

She held her hand out for him and he took one of his off the coffee mug to hold hers. It was second nature at this point. He watched her thumb run over the back of his hand as they sat there; she caught up with Magnus and he got to learn more about them both. Her familiar yet chipped green nail polish, the scar that peek from under her shirt sleeve from a training accident when she first was learning to use her whip, and the comforting scent of her floral perfume all reminded him that he was at home wherever he was, as long as he was with her. 

He caught Magnus’s eye as Mollie spoke about her latest outing with Céline, and his smile softened. He looked at him in a way that he didn’t quite understand, but he didn’t seem to be judging him anymore. Instead, he was smiling at him and looked pleased that they were so comfortable around one another. 

Time seemed to freeze around the two of them; Rowan stared into Simon’s eyes, studying his face, waiting for something to happen. Something like a look of confusion, maybe one that told them he thought this moment was strange and unwanted, but he didn’t move. As they took a breath, they could see the air fog in front of them, turning into a smoky cloud and dissipating as soon as it appeared. But nothing changed, he didn’t pull away, he didn’t push them away, so they waited. 

Something changed. They couldn’t describe what, but he relaxed and his expression softened, in a way that they were sure few people could actually see. Rowan didn’t know if they’d seen a change or just sensed it, somehow, but it was there. They struggled to find words, but eventually uttered one word: “Simon—”

Out of the corner of their eye, they saw something move, and it drew their attention. Stepping through the doors to the balcony, stood their father. They jumped away from Simon, holding their ribs as the quick movement had aggravated the pain there again. They spared Simon an apologetic look just before staring down their father. “Dad,” they said. “I didn’t know you came.”

He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and tried again. “I need to talk to you, Rowan.”

They had no idea what difference a name could make, but in that moment, Rowan felt something in their chest tighten and melt at the same time. It was a strange feeling—one of acceptance, but one of anger that it took him so long. They turned toward Simon with a sharp breath. “I’m sorry,” they muttered, feeling guilty that they’d ruined their moment. Frankly, they weren’t sure even what the moment was, but it was something they wanted–no, needed—to figure out. “I’ll call you soon, if I don’t see you for the rest of the night.”

Simon was very obviously uncomfortable and they wanted to let him get out of there as soon as possible. No one, not even Isabelle, wanted to be around when they were alone with Aric. He shook his head. “I’ll text you when I get home. Promise.”

They offered their best, encouraging smile. “I’m glad you’re okay,” they said. They felt butterflies in their stomach from the way he looked at them again, and in a moment of confidence, pushed themself on their toes and kissed his cheek. He stared for a second, like the only thought in his head was a loading screen, then smiled. With that, he made his way inside the building again, leaving them outside, alone with their father. 

He was quiet for a long moment, as if trying to decide what to say. Rowan couldn’t read their father’s expression; he looked angry, and he looked tired. They leaned back against the banister behind them, arms on top of the railing, but sucked air through their teeth at the movement. Being with Simon had made the pain fade, even for a moment; they were too busy listening to their heart pounding in their ears every time he looked at them. Their ribs hurt and breathing made it worse. 

Aric walked slowly towards them and pulled a stele from the inside pocket of his jacket. “Where are you hurt?” he asked carefully. 

“I can do it myself,” they said, answering his question without really answering it. They took the stele out of his hand and began drawing an iratze on their wrist. It wasn’t where their injuries were, but it was something. It faded almost instantly, just as the runes they’d tried earlier did; this would be something they would have Alec or Jensen do for them, but neither was anywhere to be found. 

He sighed and held his hand out for the stele. “May I?”

Begrudgingly, they caved and gave him the stele back, and pulled up the side of their shirt, allowing him to draw the healing runes on their ribs. He knelt next to them and they felt the familiar burn of the stele. 

“You look pale,” he said, glancing up at them. “Did the vampire…?”

“His name is Simon,” they said as if they were cursing at him. “And yes. But I let him bite me, he needed it.”

He hummed in acknowledgment and nodded. He forced forward such a neutral expression that they could never see what he was thinking. It bothered them that he didn’t show any emotion when he spoke to them, not unless he was angry. That only happened when they pushed just the right buttons. He spoke after a beat, “You two seem…close.”

They made a frustrated noise. “What do you want?” they asked, angry with his small talk. “You should be home, watching Jensen. Why are you here?”

“Jensen is perfectly fine by himself for an hour or so,” Aric muttered. He sounded hurt, but quickly covered it. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

They scoffed.

He stood and put the stele back in his pocket. They felt the effects of the iratze begin to sink in as the pain in their ribs faded. They felt the dizziness in their head disappear, too, and wondered how many runes he’d drawn. Not that it mattered—as long as they were healing, they didn’t care. “I spoke to Magnus tonight,” he said, almost like it was painful. He was dancing around whatever his point was, specifically choosing words that wouldn’t upset them. “He made me realize that things haven’t been…fair, lately. And you deserve more answers than I’ve given you.”

They looked at him for a moment, staring with their eyes half-lidded. Really? they thought, rolling their eyes. “Understatement of the century,” they said sarcastically. “Glad someone made you come to your senses, but I’m not interested.”

“Rowan,” he said, irritation rising in his voice. 

Their temper flared. “Don’t pull that on me. I’m glad you’re finally respecting my autonomy as a person to exist and all, but I’m not going to be all up in my feelings because you decided me almost dying was enough for you to start being a father.”

“Dammit, Alice, will you just listen?” 

Rowan rarely heard Aric raise his voice at anything. It wasn’t anger in his voice, though—when they paid a little further attention, he sounded like he was ready to cry. They stood there silently, staring at a pebble on the balcony floor. 

Aric took a deep breath, leaning over the guardrail and looking out at the city below them. It was silent for a long moment. 

“I am trying,” he said, pulling himself back together. He spoke calmer, now, though didn’t look at them. “I need you to see that. I have been trying for you, for Jensen. And I can’t make up for the time I spent away from you both—”

“No,” they said, their voice cold. Not angry anymore, just uninterested. “It can’t.”

“I want to show you that I want to fix things,” he insisted, ignoring their comment. A beat of silence passed again. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, not now. All I’m asking…” he trailed off for a moment, and hung his head. “I’m asking you to listen, alright? Then you can make whatever decision you want and I will respect it. I’ll stay out of your life, if that’s what you want.”

They stayed quiet. They didn’t want to listen to more reasons that bordered on excuses, full of comments about how they were too young to understand. They weren’t, firstly, and they were tired of everyone thinking they were a child. Maybe sixteen was a child by official standards, but they’d seen more than even most Shadowhunters would in their lifetime. And still, they persevered. 

He took their silence as compliance and began to speak. “I never wanted to burden you with my past,” he said. “I grew up here, in New York, up in Washington Heights. It wasn’t a great area, but my mother did everything she could for me. I…I was always a strange kid, and saw things that others didn’t. It started with flashes of, what I thought was, glitter or something shining in some fake fortune-teller’s window or someone with incredibly pointed ears, but the older I got, the more I recognized. I never told anyone.”

“Like Clary,” they said. “Without the whole…magic memory thing.”

“Very similar to Clary. That’s why Maryse wanted me here to train her. I could empathize with what she was going through,” he agreed. “First time I realized I wasn’t just going crazy was when I was fourteen—I was out with my one friend, Ramon, and these…people tried to jump us. We got into a huge fight about it later. He remembered the fight as these guys pulled a knife, but to me, they didn’t have weapons. They were trying to bite, and I learned later, kill us.”

They looked at him for a moment. They rarely heard their father’s accent, only when he was angry or incredibly tired. It was slight, but they found out through Maryse that his family was Dominican a few weeks ago. Just another thing about him they had to learn from someone else. They wondered if he grew up speaking Spanish, or if he just learned the pronunciation from his friends. “Vampires,” they said. “How old were you when that happened?”

“Barely thirteen,” he said. “Next day, someone comes to the door—my mother, my amá, thought it was the cops showing up and I was in trouble again.”

They scoffed. “What kind of trouble were you in at thirteen?”

His expression hardened. “More than I ever wanted you to experience.” They could tell from the way he spoke about it that it was better not to ask. They didn’t think someone so young could get into too much, but at the same time, most thirteen-year-old shadowhunters already had a general idea of what weapons they preferred and how to use them to kill any number of demons. Most of it was training and work in theory, not in the field, but still. Maybe mundanes didn’t get that kind of structure. Not all of them, at least. He continued, “Delaney Scarsbury showed up personally—he was the training master at the Academy when it was open, and basically recruited me. I was a mundane with the Sight, and back then, the Mortal Cup was still regularly used to Ascend mundanes.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you grew up in New York?” they asked, looking over him, imploring him to give them an answer. All these thoughts about why he had or hadn’t done things spun around their head until it hurt. “There’s so much I don’t know about you. I guess I don’t understand why.”

He hesitated. “My childhood wasn’t good by any means. You don’t need to know the details, not because I don’t think you can handle it, but because I didn’t even tell your mother most of it. She learned not to ask.”

Their mouth fell open slightly, though they pulled themselves together. They decided to change the topic. “So what happened with the Academy? You went?”

“From thirteen on. Told my amá it was a tuition-free boarding school, but I’d be gone nine months out of the year. She wanted to give me a better life, so let me go.”

“I don’t think I can do this, Jer,” Aric said one morning before breakfast. The two were preparing for the day as they usually did, with Jeremy sitting on his bed, his nose buried in a book he wasn’t paying attention to, as he amused himself watching Aric scramble. They had five minutes until they were due to be in the breakfast hall, which he couldn’t miss today, because he promised Mollie and Céline he’d be there. After all, he might not be there the next day to see them. 

He’d spent the last week studying everything about all of his friends. He never wanted to forget Céline’s shy smile, hiding behind her blond hair that she played with when nervous. He watched Jeremy in the evenings when they were winding down for bed and watched the way his brown hair curled at the ends, and the gold-rimmed glasses that always sat a little crooked on his nose when he was reading. And most of all, Mollie, whose eyes were greener than the grass in the Academy courtyard and her eyes lit up his darkest days. 

He stared at himself in the mirror in front of him, anxiously fidgeting with his shirt. It wouldn’t lay quite right, then he’d untuck it and tuck it back in, trying to figure out how to look his best. His hair hung in his eyes these days, and he’d spent many days laying in the grass and having one of the girls braid it. He was tanned, taller, covered head to toe in freckles, and had filled out much more than the scrawny kid he was a few years ago when he first arrived. To him, he still felt like that kid, even if his shirts and his shoes seemed to be too small on a regular basis, no matter what he bought. 

Aric felt a hand catch his as he went to pull at his shirt again, and he realized Jeremy was standing next to him. It was strange, he realized suddenly, how much taller he’d gotten than his roommate. They’d been friends for a few years and swore, if he saw the other side of this, that they’d become parabatai. It felt like only a few months ago he stood eye-to-eye with him, but these days, he saw the top of his head more than the rest of his face. 

“Please breathe,” he said. He spoke with the same dry sarcasm he usually did. “You’re making me anxious.”

“Thanks,” he said, and turned back to the mirror. He looked fine, he supposed, but he wanted to look nice. There were all sorts of sayings about first impressions, but what about last ones? He wanted his friends to remember him nicer than he might have been, and less of a pain in the ass. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Jeremy said. He grabbed his shoulders and turned towards him. “I don’t care what you think will happen today. You are Aric Darrius, and you’ve been through hell and back. You can survive a little angelic magic.”

He was right. Out of the three of them, Jeremy was the only one he’d mentioned some of his stories from home to. Céline never asked, Mollie stopped after it turned into an argument; he hadn’t wanted to tell Jeremy, either, but he argued that if they were going to be parabatai, he couldn’t worry about what he thought of him all the time. He was going to be there for the best and worst moments of his life, whether he liked it or not. 

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes casting to the floor. “No, you’re right. I know.”

“Believe it when you say it,” he said, and suddenly pulled him forward. He stumbled, just slightly, but caught himself as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Jeremy squeezed him tightly and Aric felt himself relax a little. He didn’t have an option to fail this, he couldn’t leave Jeremy and everyone behind. 

“I’m not going to do all the tears and pep talks later,” he said quietly. “You know I love you; you know I believe in you. Prove to those assholes who call you a dreg who the hell you are.”

“I will,” he said, and with a deep breath, pulled away. He watched Jeremy wipe the corner of his eye and fix his glasses, clearly more upset about the situation than he wanted to let on. He didn’t blame him.

He headed towards the door and grabbed his bag off the floor in the corner. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, and headed out the door. 

Aric took a final look around the room he’d been in for the last year and a half. Usually, the shadowhunters and mundane students didn’t room together, but since they announced their willingness to be parabatai, the rules bent a little. Maybe, administration wanted to make sure they wouldn’t kill each other if they spent twenty-four hours a day together. He cracked a smile and closed the door behind him. 

Breakfast passed in a tense silence. No one wanted to break it—no one wanted to speak. It was only when they realized Aric had to leave to prepare for the ceremony later that day that someone finally broke the silence. They stopped in the courtyard, in front of the training area where he was supposed to meet his teachers and the rest of the students preparing. 

He wasn’t prepared for Céline, who was rather small in her nature, to practically knock him over in an enveloping hug. She lunged for him, her arms around his neck, which practically lifted her feet off the ground. He leaned into her and felt her shake, very obviously holding back tears. “You better be here later,” she said. “We’ll meet here, same place, right after the ceremony. Okay?”

“Okay,” he said as she finally let him go. He, gently, wiped some of the tears off her cheeks. “You’re gonna see me in a few hours, alright? I’ve got this.”

“I better,” she said. He thought she sounded like a child, which to him, made the situation almost funny. She stepped to the side and practically hid behind Jeremy, who held her hand reassuringly. He wondered if there was something going on between those two, but now wasn’t the time to ask. 

He knew who was standing in front of him. Mollie Penhallow, the girl who made him believe in childish things like true love and soulmates. The girl who’d pulled him out of a deep, dark depression and very literally saved his life a few times. His favorite thing to draw, though he could never get her personality to come through quite right. He could spend hours just looking at her; she was the sun to his shadow, and he didn’t think he loved anything else more in the world. 

“Hey,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She stepped closer to him and took his hand, gently, like she always was with him. In the beginning, he thought it was pity. When they first met, all she was to him was his tutor, someone who probably thought she was better than everyone because she was smart and strong and all that. But he’d learned to see around his own prejudices and realized she was just kind. He didn’t know what Professor Rosenhart meant when he said that he’d specially picked his peer tutor for him, but he was right; Mollie was special, and she was perfect. 

He knew better than to look at her, but his eyes deceived him. He saw the way tears lined her gorgeous green eyes, and how her lower lip quivered, but how she was trying to stay strong in that moment. He knew if he looked at her that he’d start crying too—she was the only person to ever make him do that. But he did, and the felt the tears well in his eyes, and kissed her. He kissed her with all the love and emotion he had, trying to convey how much he loved her in such a simple action. 

He pulled away slowly, and she smiled sadly. This wasn’t goodbye, he reminded himself, but it certainly felt like it. No one knew if he was going to survive this, not until it happened. He had the chance to, but just in case…

She tucked a piece of hair behind his ear and dropped his hand. “I love you,” she said quietly. “I know you’re coming back to me.”

“I am,” he said, even if he didn't entirely believe it. He vowed never to lie to her, but if it preserved the onslaught of emotions he knew was coming, he could pretend to be fine just for a little while. Mollie left his side and hugged Céline, who was still sniffling, and buried her head in her shoulder, no doubt hiding her own tears. 

Jeremy left the two and walked him closer to the training area, just out of earshot of the girls. He held the side of his face, and Aric mirrored him on the other side. “For whither thou goest, I will go,” he said.

“And where you die, I die, right?” he asked. “Or something like that.”

“Not today.” Jeremy looked at him for a moment, as if deciding something, and pulled away from him. “Like Céline said. Meet back here later.”

“I might not be here later.”

Jeremy, who rarely acted with any sort of confidence, was the most assured he’d ever seen him when he spoke. “You will be. I know it.” 

“I had a parabatai,” Aric explained. “My best friend, I met him through your mother. He was—”

“Jeremy Lovelace,” they said, looking over at him. He raised his eyebrows and they turned back away from him. “Magnus told me about him. Not that he knew much. He’s a Silent Brother now, right?”

He nodded solemnly. “I see him, once in a while. Brother Elijah. It’s not the same as it used to be, with all the…” he paused for a moment, unsure of what words to use, “...Silent-Brother-ness, but he was the one that performed your and your brother’s protection rituals when you were born. He adored you both, but could only do so much due to his responsibilities in the Brotherhood.”

Rowan smiled softly at the idea. They wondered what it would have been like to grow up with more family on their dad’s side, even if it wasn’t by blood. They had Uncle Patrick and Aunt Jia, and Sebastian’s parents when the three of them were alive, but a parabatai was something special. Once, they thought they’d be Alec’s and they’d been heartbroken when they found out Jace and Alec were going to do the same. The older they got, the more they learned to deal with the feeling. “What happened?” they asked softly. 

“He was hurt. A rogue warlock,” Aric sighed, and they noticed he gripped the railing tightly. “The magic was killing him slowly. He was just…dying. We sent you to Magnus for a few days, but in the meantime, he got ahold of Brother Zachariah for us. He knew someone who’d been through something similar and offered the idea. It was better than him dying, and Jeremy had always liked books and archives. He was always smarter than me; so was your mother.” A soft smile graced his features; he spoke of them fondly, in a way they rarely saw with him. “You remind me of them in that way.”

They looked at him for a moment and watched how his expression turned wistful and nostalgic. It was the first time they could remember that he’d talked about their mother and looked almost happy. He said her name like it was some kind of painful secret, something he wanted to keep in the past, but they insisted they dug it up. Despite his pain, they wanted to know where they came from. 

He’d never seen Jeremy look so pale. Sure, he preferred to spend a beach day under an umbrella reading, but he looked sicker than the day before, and the day before that. There was a pain in his side, just above his hip where his parabatai rune sat, that told him something was wrong. Even if he didn’t see him, he could tell. 

A voice said his name. He turned to see Mollie in the doorway, leaning against it. Her smile was soft but sad as she walked towards him, running her fingers through his hair. He leaned into her touch, leaning his head back. She pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Darling,” she said, “you can’t stay here all day. You have to eat something.”

“I can’t,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned back against the dining room chair that they’d dragged into the bedroom for him. “I don’t want to be…”

“Sweetheart,” she said with a sigh. “If something was wrong, I’d call for you. You know that. Why don’t you let me stay here, and maybe shower, or eat, or—“

“Mollie,” he said, his voice hard. “I’m not leaving.”

She sighed but conceded. Jeremy was her friend, too, but he didn’t know if she could understand what he was dealing with. She and Céline, despite their close friendship, had never been parabatai. He comforted her when the Circle pulled her further and further in as their actions got worse. The two of them together barely convinced Mollie’s brother, Patrick, to get out of there while he still could. With Céline, they had no such luck. She was in love with Stephen Herondale, and she felt that she’d found a family among their ranks. Mollie had been heartbroken to hear her say such things—she thought she had been enough family for her. 

“Alice is doing fine with Magnus,” she said. “His offer is still open. He’ll contact his friend in the Silent Brothers.”

“It won’t come to that.”

“If it does, love,” she said. She kissed his temple and sighed. “You know we’ve done what we can.”

“And I’ll find something else, Mol, I can’t—“ His voice cracked terribly and he took a deep breath to settle himself. He’d never been one for tears, but the years with his friends slowly melting his icy personality had affected him more than he wanted to admit. “I can’t lose him, too. I won’t.”

“You won’t.”

Aric’s head shot up. Jeremy had spoken, awake for the first time since the previous morning. He smiled and quickly wiped his eyes. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

He smiled weakly. “Like hell, frankly.” He held his hand out for Aric, who took it without a second thought. Mollie, the attentive nurse she was through all this, helped him sit up enough for him to adjust the pillows, and said she’d be back with some water for him. Jeremy thanked her, though didn’t speak again until the door clicked shut. 

“You need to call Magnus,” he said, his voice strained. 

Aric’s eyes flew open wide and he sat up straighter. “Absolutely not. There’s more we can do, I haven’t heard back from Guinevere yet in Paris—she said she might be able to help—“

“Aric.” He squeezed his hand, but even in that, he could feel how weak he was. He was right. If he wanted to stay alive any longer than possibly tomorrow, the Silent Brothers needed to be called for more than healing. When he was awake last time, Mollie had breached the idea to him, and he’d accepted it. Aric, not so much. 

Aric stared at him for a long moment. The vibrancy in his eyes had faded, there was a thin layer of sweat on his skin but his hands were cold and clammy no matter how many blankets they applied. The last time they reapplied bandages on him, the poison had spread from his hip where he’d been hit, up further, and now was close to his heart. 

“Entreat me not to leave thee,” Aric said slowly, recalling the words he’d spoken to his best friend years ago, “or return from following after thee.” He paused for a moment in an attempt to settle his voice, took a breath, and continued. “For whither thou goest, I will go, and where thou lodgest, I will lodge.”

Jeremy smiled. “Thy people shall be my people, and thy God my—“ He broke into a coughing fit, leaning to the side and coughing into his hand. He tried to hide it, but Aric could see the hint of scarlet blood on his hand. 

Aric shook his head and continued. His voice shook but he tried his best to stay steady. “Where thou diest, I will die, and there I will be buried.” He sighed deeply and held Jeremy’s hand between both of his. He didn’t want to think about the idea of Jeremy dying, but he knew he was running out of time and options. “The Angel do so to me, and more also, if aught but death part thee and me.”

Jeremy smiled. “I was so happy you memorized that,” he said. “I know how much you struggled with it. Old English and all.”

“Yeah,” he said. At the time, it was something that made no sense. He didn’t know that the vows even meant until Mollie broke down the words and explained it to him. Since the day of their ceremony, though, the words felt like second nature. Death would be the only reason they would ever be apart, he was sure of that. “Now it doesn’t seem so bad.”

“I know.” He coughed again; this time, Aric handed him a tissue and promptly tossed it away when he settled down. “The Silent City really isn’t so far away. I wouldn’t say visit,  but if you really miss me…”

For the first time in days, Aric smiled. “I don’t think I would be around the Brotherhood more than I have to be. I’ll make an exception for you, though.”

“You’d better.”

He nodded but didn’t reply, only leaned forward and rested his forehead against his hand. “Just like you told me the day I Ascended,” he said, closing his eyes. “We’ll make it through to the other side of this. You will.”

“Can you…” Rowan started, trying to put the words together in a way that wouldn’t make him pull away again. They came up with a better question instead. “How did you meet mom?”

He cracked the smallest hint of a smile. “Your mother was my tutor, assigned to me by one of my teachers. Like I said, she was…god, she was brilliant. I thought she was getting bonus points to be my friend in the beginning, or something along those lines, but she was just so…kind. A good person, really. We did the scheduled tutoring meetings once or twice a week, but one day she offered for me to eat lunch with her and her friends. I joined them and never looked back. By the time the next school year rolled around, I was already close with Jeremy and Céline, too.”

“Céline Herondale?” they asked. “Like Jace’s mom, right?”

“She was Céline Montclaire when I knew her,” he said. “She was a tortured girl, but she had a kind heart. Mollie took her under her wing when they were kids and insisted she be involved in everything she did. She and Jeremy got on well, and I got to know her when Mollie had me start joining them for things. She…she got involved with the Circle after Jeremy, Mollie and I left the Academy. She was lonely without us, which I guess our busy lives didn’t help with. But Valentine’s presence was getting stronger. I heard Amatis and Stephen had their baby, but he left her not much later for Céline. It was Stephen’s choice, sure, but Mollie begged her not to go through with marrying him. That was their last big fight—I really don’t know if they ever spoke again. I know she never talked about her.”

Rowan made a face as he spoke, though quickly pushed it away. This Stephen Herondale guy seemed like a prick, the more they heard about him, but so did everyone that associated with Valentine at the time. When they heard about Maryse and her days in the Circle, they thought she was acting a little self righteous, too. “So it was just the two of you?” they asked. “Plus me, I guess. And Jensen.”

“Jensen didn’t come along for another few years, but…yeah. We were happy, despite it all. And the second you were old enough to start walking, you wanted to climb.” He chuckled; it was the happiest they’d seen him. So we built that treehouse in the backyard—do you remember all that?”

“Not building it,” they said. “But I remember it.”

“You spent every day in there, drawing or reading or hiding away from the world. The number of times I heard one more chapter…” he trailed off, looking down at the city below them. 

Despite the regular city noise, it was rather peaceful. And now that the runes had worked, they felt much better about talking to him like this. Having a literal pain in their side while trying to do something that set them on edge wasn’t the best idea, but he was good with runes. They didn;t hurt as much when he did them, even though the burn of it didn’t bother them anymore. Maybe Jensen got it from him. 

Aric didn’t think he’d ever get used to living in the country like this. The Academy was one thing—there was always some chatter in the hallways, leaking pipes or creaking boards in the incredibly old building. But after Mollie’s father passed, the family estate passed down to her and her siblings. Patrick was in Beijing with his wife and their young daughter, Guinevere got engaged and was out in Paris with her fiancé, and after traveling for a little while, Mollie decided she wanted to return to Idris. Anywhere she wanted to be, he would follow. 

The sunset above the trees casted a warm glow over the landscape, one that he would have painted if he wasn’t so busy these last few weeks. He started getting more involved with the Council and Clave politics with Mollie’s encouragement when he expressed interest in it, but shortly after they found out she was pregnant. Safe to say, things had been busy for them. Neither were sure they were ready to be parents, but it was a happy surprise they were going to figure out together. And Penhallow Manor felt empty with just the two of them, anyway. 

He stepped through the front door and was immediately hit with a strong smell from the kitchen. He wished he could say it was good, but he knew Mollie’s cooking abilities better than that. At least he didn’t smell smoke. That was a good sign. 

He walked into the kitchen and saw Mollie, as carefully as possible, placing a leaf of some kind on top of a plate of food as a garnish. He chuckled and waited until she stood back up to greet her. “I thought today was going to be a zombie day when I left,” he said teasingly, kissing her cheek. “Not so much?”

“I got a burst of energy about an hour ago, but after this, I am so done for the day,” she said, sounding incredibly proud of herself. He noticed, then, the music coming from the corner of the room. He wasn’t sure how these shadowhunter machines worked without electricity, but he gave up trying to figure it out ages ago. It was basically a record player, and it worked with mundane records, and Mollie was listening to Elton John for the millionth time. 

He chuckled and took her hands, pulling her close. “You know, I really need to introduce you to good mundane music,” he said, beginning to sway with her. And, just like their wedding day, she kicked her shoes to the side and stood on his feet, allowing him to control where and how they moved. There was a time he believed Mollie was perfect and could do anything, but he learned quickly that she was a terrible dancer. It only made her more charming. 

“I like this stuff,” she insisted. “Your music gives me a headache.”

“I like something that’s a little harder than cheesy pop, sorry.” He grinned at her, and she shoved his arm for it. Not hard, not even enough to interrupt them, but they’d had a habit of play-fighting since before they started dating. Or, sometimes, actually sparring. 

They stayed like that for a long moment, swaying in the kitchen, listening to the music, and waiting for dinner to cool off. He’d mutter to her, something to make her laugh, and she’d giggle and rest her head on his shoulder. Or she’d say something about her day, going into some tangent about how she was getting very tired of taking five minutes to put shoes on, and insist that it really was his fault, and he’d reply for the nth time that she seemed to enjoy herself at the time. It was the little moments like these, by themselves, that he clung to when he was having a particularly rough day, or they were fighting. They’d been through the loss of her father, losing Céline, and later finding out about her death, Jeremy turning into a Silent Brother and breaking the parabatai bond and the severe depression he fell into for a few months after that. Because despite rough patches, they still had each other, which was the important part. 

The music stopped after a moment, and Aric sighed, realizing that he had to flip the record if they wanted to keep listening. He wanted to stay in that moment forever, even if his toes might hurt later. She smiled at him, her green eyes warm and loving. She dropped his hand and wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with his hair. He loved it when she did that. “You know, believe it or not, I love you,” she said. “Novel idea, I know.”

“Oh, I’ve never heard such words. Are you sure?” There was some truth in his words. Before the Academy, he didn’t get much of the soft and affectionate kind of love he’d grown used to now. The first time she heard about that, Mollie insisted that she’d do whatever she could to remind him that she cared for him, no matter what he had or hadn’t heard before. I love you became a constant phrase between them, something that took him a while to warm up to, but as he got comfortable with it, he began to say it back just as often. Now, it was something of an inside joke between them. 

Her smile flickered for a moment to a look of concern he was used to with her. She, despite his best efforts, worried for him. “I’m serious,” she said, brushing a bit of hair from his face. 

“I know you are.” He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I love you, too. More than anything else in this world.”

“I guess…” they started, speaking lighter than they expected to. Something in them was still angry with him, but they couldn’t yell at him for doing the same thing they’d asked him to do for years. “I don’t understand. If everything was so great, what happened? All I know is one minute mom’s alive, and the next we’re at her funeral and Jen and I are getting shipped off to New York.”

He nodded solemnly—he held no energy to try to argue against that. In short, that was what happened. “Did Magnus tell you about Cairo?”

“Yeah,” they said with a frown. “Mission gone awry, right?”

“Basically.” He looked pained to be speaking about it, but he continued nevertheless. “We were helping out the Institute there—they were severely understaffed and dealing with a few too many demon attacks for them to handle. We walked into battle together and never walked out.”

Aric sniffled and wiped the corner of his eye, looking away like he was trying to hide from them. It was the most emotion they’d ever seen their father give. In a rare moment of sympathy for him, they placed their hand over his on the rail; neither acknowledged it, but they didn’t move.

“Your mother’s death destroyed me in a way I can’t explain,” he admitted. “I’d lost everyone, and through it all, she was always there. I didn’t know how to cope with it.”

“So you sent us away,” they said, glancing over at him. Even in the darkness, his eyes looked a little red. “Wouldn’t you want your children around you, then?”

“Not like that,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I couldn’t think straight. Maybe it wasn’t a good decision by any means, but it was the one I made. Patrick and Jia couldn’t take care of you both by themselves, and I…I couldn’t function.”

“Why New York?” they asked, changing the topic slightly. “Of all places—why with the Lightwoods? Had we even met them before?”

He nodded. “Once or twice. After the Uprising, I got more involved with the Council in Idris and befriended Maryse and Robert. Mostly Maryse—I don’t think Robert ever liked me very much.” He chuckled wryly. “It was ironic. Your mother and Maryse hated each other in school, mostly because of academic rivalry and ideologies clashing. But years later, as adults, they settled their differences.”

“Didn’t mom have as sister, though? Younger than Patrick?”

“She did. She died before Jensen was born, unfortunately.”

Rowan frowned, balling their opposite hand into a fist. They dug their nails into their palm. “This family seems to have a lot of death in it.”

Aric sighed defeatedly. He couldn’t argue that. “It does. But the Uprising hurt a lot of people, and demons breaking through the wards around the world have gotten more frequent as time goes on, even just in your lifetime, let alone mine.” He turned slightly towards them. “I don’t know, and I’ve never known, if I made the right choices for you and your brother. I constantly think about what could have happened if you both had stayed with me or if there was anything else I could have done to make things better. I always, always, wanted what was best for you.”

They didn’t say anything to that. Even a few days ago, if he would have said that, they would have laughed in his face and told him he was full of it. But this made more sense. It didn’t excuse some of the things he did, but they understood that his options were limited. Would they have grown up better staying with him? Would things have been different? Would they have ever known Alec, or Isabelle, or Max, or Maryse, or Robert, or Jace, or even Hodge? All the people who were so influential in their life now would have never even known them. They supposed they had to thank him for that—they had a best friend, a great mentor (before his betrayal, they supposed), a sister they never really wanted but were glad to have anyway, and parents that, despite their best efforts, probably did care about them. And because they were in New York at the right time, they met Clary and Simon, who single-handedly turned their life on its head and gave them a different kind of friendship they weren’t used to. Especially not with Simon. 

Simon. They felt terrible they had to send him away, but they knew from the expression their father had that there was no way to procrastinate this conversation. They wanted to talk to him, maybe ask what the hell all that waiting was about, and if there was something going on between them that they didn’t know about. They weren’t even sure how they felt about him, but they knew that they’d thought about kissing him one-too-many times to know they were ‘just friends’. But he was interested in Isabelle, wasn’t he? Or Maia? Or maybe he was still into Clary? Surely not them when he had so many options of these beautiful girls around him. 

Aric spoke again. “I hope you never have to experience the loss I have, Rowan,” he said. And there it was again: he not only remembered, but he was making an effort. “But I do hope, someday, you’ll feel the love I did, surrounded by friends that treat you the way mine did for me. I’d like to say I was never exactly materialistic, but I was rich with the people I had in my life. Your mother was the most important of them.” He paused for a moment. “Though, from what I can see, you might have already found that.”

They turned towards him, eyes wide in surprise. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He got a smug smile on his face; it reminded them of Magnus and his stupid little looks when he talked about things they ‘wouldn’t understand for a while’. “You’ll get it eventually. Just don’t wait for someone to knock you upside the head and tell you you’re into the vampire.”

They spluttered, heat rising to their cheeks. The only thing they could manage in the moment was to shove his shoulder, pushing him away. “His name is Simon!” they said, and groaned into their hands. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

He laughed. Really, genuinely laughed, and Rowan couldn’t remember the last time they heard him do that. “You don’t have to,” he said, though his smile didn’t disappear. 

The doors on the balcony swung open again and they looked to see who it was. Maryse, her face pale and panicked, looked at the two of them. Another moment, she might have been happy to see them laughing together, but something was wrong. “Aric,” she said and rushed towards the two of them. “You both need to get back inside. Andromeda just came back from checking the roof, and Jace is gone. So is Sebastian.”

Rowan stared for a moment. “What do you mean he’s gone?”

Maryse looked like she hadn’t heard them, only looking at Aric. His jaw set, and he placed his hand on her shoulder. “We’re going to find him,” he said. “I promise, we will.”

The two rushed back inside to join the group of panicked Shadowhunters and Downworlders, some family, some friends, and some Conclave members dispatched to help with Lilith. Aric started talking to people and they could see groups moving towards the elevator. Izzy was close to her mother’s side, clinging to her arm. She couldn’t see either of their faces but they both looked rigid. They turned away from the chaos and pulled out their phone which thankfully hadn’t broken in the fight. They dialed a number quickly and pulled the phone up to their ear. It rang a few times and left them on voicemail. They called again, then a third time, with no different outcome. 

Hey, it’s Jensen. I’m probably asleep, or maybe busy. Shoot me a text or I’ll call you back when I get this. Thanks!

Rowan’s stomach dropped as they thought of the worst, though they tried to keep themselves steady as they rejoined the group inside. They stood with their father, eyes staring at the floor, until he was done speaking to the people he was with. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone dropping to something softer than the authoritative voice he used when he was focused on work. “Rowan?”

“Jensen isn’t picking up,” they said. “He’s probably asleep, but with Jace missing, I just—”

He didn’t let them finish. “Magnus!” he called among the chattering voices. They rarely heard Aric raise his voice at anything. It wasn’t anger in his voice, though—when they paid a little further attention, it was panic. 

Magnus appeared, Alec just behind him, moments later. He didn’t look angry at him anymore but was surprisingly willing to help. “What?”

Aric took a breath, frustrated that he had to ask but knowing that he had limited options. “I need a favor.”

Years before, the record player in the kitchen was moved outside and into the treehouse. Aric spent most of his time there instead of indoors these days, painting the walls or playing pretend with the children. Mollie missed having the music sometimes but she could always get another if she wanted it. It was better to listen to the laughter that poured through the open windows. 

An hour or so ago, she had to deal with the daily fight of getting Jensen to lay down for his nap. If they skipped it, he was a wreck for the rest of the day, but if she wanted to lay him down, he argued that Alice didn’t have to, so he shouldn’t either. He was a big kid now, right? She laughed each time as he tried to come up with a better argument, and eventually brought him inside with the promise of a story before a tantrum started. 

She returned outside, now, when she was sure he’d settled. The laughter died down and now it was quiet, save for the music playing from the treehouse. Music she recognized, and she giggled to herself as she realized it was Elton John—Aric’s supposed least favorite. He wouldn’t be listening to it if it wasn’t his idea. 

She climbed the rope outside the opening and sat on one of the knots, watching the scene inside. Her child’s unruly hair had been pulled into uneven pigtails, pinned by tiny bow clips and ribbons that were scattered all over the floor. That had to be why Jensen came in with one in his hair, too. Their dress was caked in mud, especially at the knees, to which she rolled her eyes—it was every day she had to fight to get the grass stains out of clothes for her two troublemakers, but they were growing out of their clothes so quickly these days that she didn’t mind. Freckles dotted their arms and legs, and she noticed their Mary-Janes were also disgusting with mud. Of course, the nice shoes she bought were the ones they decided to play in. 

The child had their face buried in their father’s neck, who was holding them, rocking slowly to the beat of the song. Aric didn’t seem to notice that she was there but was instead lost in singing quietly along and staring out the window. He didn’t look much better than them—his jeans also had mud and paint on them, no doubt from the countless hours he’d spent in that treehouse, painting it to perfection for them. Mollie pulled the camera from her pocket—ever since Aric introduced them to her and she found out they worked in Idris, she kept one on her—and snuck a picture of the moment. She noticed when she put it down that her child had caught her eye and smiled, their tiny hand extended out in a small, sleepy wave. 

She sat there for a moment, enjoying the moment, but decided to let them have their fun together. She stuffed the camera back in her pocket and climbed down, leaving the two in the treehouse to start preparing some lunch for when Jensen woke up. She thought of her childhood memories in the house, when Gunny and Patrick used to race each other around the house, and she’d time them, or when they’d go down to the small lake in the woods and splash around for a few hours. While Guinevere wasn’t there anymore and Patrick was busy with his own life, she still thought fondly of them and hoped her children would have the same memories of home. 

[umichenginabroad]

Week 3: The Berliner Odyssey

Who doesn’t love a nice homey and cozy week, especially after that roller coaster of a weekend previously. As you probably could’ve guessed, this week was spent all in Berlin. The theme for this week was exploration, whether it be exploring in and around our neighborhood or throughout the city of Berlin. 

We loved to go out for food or just to enjoy ourselves. This week, we went to what is known as a Bierhaus (Beer House), which was basically a massive restaurant whose main selling point was their signature beer. We also walked around shopping streets like Wilmersdorfer Street and explored large retail stores and malls, like the Mall of Berlin. It was fun to go shopping and socializing with the people that I was closest to, and it made me closer with them because we got to hang out almost every single day after lab and just talk and get to know each other better. We would have long chats about which hoodies to buy, or which shoes look the nicest and so on. 

Outside of the hustle and bustle of shopping malls, my friends and I also went out into nature and explored new areas and participated in extremely fun group outdoor activities. This week we started to play soccer as a group, and it has quickly become one of our favorite activities. Despite everyone having varying skill levels, we are all able to still have a blast because we can get everyone involved and not have anyone feel left out. Another one of my favorite activities that we did was going to the beach as a group. The beach offered some breathtaking views of the sunset, and once again, offered a nice open space where we would partake in group activities, like playing with frisbees, or rock skipping competitions (occasionally). It was a great way for everybody to destress and just live and enjoy the moment.

I love the beach, but you know what else I love? Museums. Seeing as how Berlin does this cool thing where on the first Sunday of each month, the museums have free admission, we decided that it would be wise of us to take up that offer. So on Sunday, June 2, we did just that. However, since everybody with a brain also decided that it would be worthwhile to see some of the coolest museums in the world for free, we were met with the bane of my existence: LONG LINES. Each museum had their own long lines, but it was worth it as the artifacts in the museums were so historic and had so much history behind them. Here were some of my favorites: 

Friday was a bit of a bittersweet day for everyone as it was the final German class of the program. After 3 weeks, everyone had gotten really close to their German teachers, but as we all know, all good things must come to an end. For me, I was also a little bummed because my teacher, Alexander, was a very chill teacher who regularly engaged in discussions about German politics, sports and even American politics. The others in my class loved him equally as much, so it was sad when we found out that we weren’t going to see him again. However, it seemed fitting that our final moments spent together would be spent roaming around the entire city of Berlin speaking only German and completing the IESS Berlin Scavenger Hunt. He gave us great insight into the history of some of the German buildings and architecture, and also was a great guide as he knew his way around Berlin. Because of his insight and help, my team was able to finish first, and I feel that it was the most fitting way for us to depart. Although I don’t know how we will fare without each other now, I’m sure that we’ll be well looked-after by the legend of the Gerichtsvollzieher (a legendary inside-joke in our German class). Farewell Alexander. 

Dervin Tian

Data Science

Engineering Laboratory Experience at TUB in Berlin

[acquire-realestate]

4 BHK Flats in Vesu for Sale

Surat, the fourth fastest-growing city in the world, is also recognized for its cuisine, textiles, and diamonds. Surat polishes more than 90% of the world’s raw diamonds before they are converted into high-quality jewelry that is worn by people all around the world. Surat, which has a long history of conquering and industrialization, will be one of the country’s first smart cities. As the city grew and prospered, attracting a rising number of people, it ran out of space to house all of its population. Surat, on the other hand, welcomed everyone and began to expand outward.

And as it has began to migrate towards the suburbs, Acquire has begun initiatives there as well. Acquire here offers the best 4 BHK homes for sale in Vesu that are kept for sale and have the best facilities. This is the type of flat that everyone would have yearned for, and people of all ages would not mind leaving because the flats are of great quality.

Vesu is the newest location to grow in terms of public transportation infrastructure, residential complexes, commercial parks, and shipping arcades, and Surat Railway Station is around 15 kilometers distant, while Surat Airport is only 5 kilometers away. It is clearly the first choice for any family to call home, with huge schools, universities, retail malls, and shopping centers clustered in the neighborhood. A calm, refreshing environment is beneficial to all city dwellers, especially if their home is located there. And it offers the nicest building for sale in Vesu, making it an ideal area to live with your family and raise a family. Surat’s top real estate developers “acquire” have presented their region’s best projects.

Vesu is a town within a town. Those who live and work here rarely feel the need to leave the suburb, offering a sense of autonomy and independence that is unique in Surat. Acquire, the leading building construction firm, has created a few buildings in Vesu with four bedrooms, a hall, a kitchen, and all the wonderful amenities. And they are kept for sale so that people who want to live the ideal life can do so with their families, and the prices are likewise affordable.

[vanstonelawfirmfl]

The Top 5 Nicest Neighborhoods In Sarasota, Florida

When you move to a new place, there are always a ton of things you have to consider. The weather, the culture, and most importantly, the neighbors. Whether you want to live in an area with some old family friends or want to be tied in with the closest group of people that are like you and your style, here's a list of the five nicest neighborhoods in Sarasota, Florida.

Arlington Park

Arlington Park is a well-established neighborhood that is home to many families and retirees. The area is located in northern Sarasota County, just south of State Road 72. The community features an elementary school, park, and swimming pool.

Arlington Park is close to shopping and restaurants, as well as the beautiful beaches of Siesta Key. Residents often travel here for weekend getaways or vacations during the winter months when it's too cold to spend time around Lakewood Ranch.

The average home value in Arlington Park is $295,000. This price point makes this neighborhood one of the most affordable in Sarasota County.

Sarasota Downtown

Downtown Sarasota is the main hub for dining, entertainment, and shopping in the city. Downtown is also home to many of the city's oldest buildings, including the 1905 Sarasota Opera House, which has been restored and renovated into a vibrant venue for concerts, performances, and more.

The area has several parks, including John Ringling Park on Siesta Key and Lido Beach on Lido Key. The park has a boardwalk that leads to a beachfront promenade with shops and restaurants.

Sarasota's downtown area is filled with historic buildings, including the Asolo Repertory Theatre, which hosts live performances all year long. The city also hosts an annual outdoor art festival called Art Walk Sarasota.

Northwest

This neighborhood is located near downtown Sarasota, which means that it's close to shops, restaurants, and other entertainment options. It also has access to many public parks so residents can easily enjoy nature without leaving their neighborhood. There are several subdivisions within this area including Brookridge, Brookhurst Park, Laurel Oak Park, and more. Each subdivision has its own unique characteristics but they all have one thing in common: they're close enough to downtown that living here doesn't mean sacrificing convenience!

Harbor Acres

Harbor Acres is a neighborhood in Sarasota, Florida. The most common type of home in this community is a single-family home, and the majority are traditional style, ranch style, and contemporary style single-family homes. Homes in Harbor Acres are 1,100 square feet on average and typically have four bedrooms and two bathrooms. Homes in this neighborhood typically sit on quarter-acre lots. The most common type of parking in the community is the garage.

Harbor Acres real estate is primarily made up of medium sized (three or four-bedroom) to large (four, five, or more-bedroom) single-family homes and townhomes/condos. Most of the residential real estate is owner-occupied. Many of the residences in the Harbor Acres neighborhood are established but not old, having been built between 1970 and 1999. A number of residences were also built between 2000 and 2009.

Oyster Bay

Sarasota's oldest neighborhood, Oyster Bay is located in downtown Sarasota. This historic district has been designated a National Historic District and is listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The neighborhood is known for its beautiful tree-lined streets and its many architecturally significant homes.

Oyster Bay boasts some of the most important historical homes in Sarasota and has become a popular spot for filming movies and television shows, including the recent production of "Flamingo Road."

Takeaway: Hopefully, this article has helped you get a better feel for where the nicest neighborhoods in Sarasota are. Because no one really wants to admit that they're living in an unsafe neighborhood—lord knows I've always been hesitant to do so—certain areas of the city can be overlooked by people looking for a new home. However, if you're able to look past the superficial elements, and see the beauty that so many people overlook, then maybe you'll find a new home in on of these top five neighborhoods.

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[liaromancewriter]

Hey Lia,

Request for 22. Making up after a stupid fight for Ethan x Cassandra.

Surrender

Premise: When an addition to the Diagnostics Team shifts the dynamics, it places Cassie and Ethan on opposite sides of the issue.

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)

Rating/Category: Mature (light NSFW). Fluff.

Words: 1,340

A/N: It kinda went in a different direction than I had originally planned, but I hope you like it @rosebudde. And yes, the Tobias Carrick convo is from the text messages that Max and Cassie had in this Maxenna text fic.

Requested from this list of prompts.

Ethan Ramsey had never noticed how quiet his apartment could be when it was just him there. Once upon a time, the silence had been a welcome respite from the constant busyness and cacophony of hospital life.

And then he’d held the hand of one Cassie Valentine two years ago in the waiting room of Edenbrook Hospital. Week by week, month by month, year by year, a lifetime of quiet started to strip away to reveal a world of color and noise and laughter. Often all at once.

Now as he sipped his expensive scotch, watching the city lights twinkling bright outside, he realized that he couldn’t remember what silence sounded like anymore. Even the scotch was starting to taste sour on his tongue.

He reached for the phone, scrolling to the text app and the person that was at the top of the list. He started to type out a reply, but the words wouldn’t come. He hated texting at the best of time, but it was Cassie’s preferred way and he adapted.

But some things couldn’t be said over text with words that lacked emotion unless one used one of those emojis to express what they really felt. And even then, he wasn’t sure there was a combination of emojis — at least not that he was aware of — that conveyed that he was an idiot and could she please come back.

He knew it was late and she was likely asleep, but he hated the way they’d left things. And yes, the silence was getting to him. It spoke volumes when it needed to and was making him deaf from the pressure of it.

Exiting the message screen, he clicked on the rideshare app instead. He wasn’t drunk, but he’d certainly drank more than he should have.

Forty-five minutes and an awkward car ride later where he’d shut down any attempts by the bubbly driver to start a conversation, he stood in front of her apartment building.

Taking a deep breath to brace himself, he pressed the street door buzzer and hoped that of all her roommates, Dr. Trinh would answer. She was the nicest of the lot and would be least likely to ask questions.

He got lucky.

A few minutes later, he ascended to the penthouse floor. He and Cassie usually met at his place as it was more private, but he’d certainly spent his fair share in the apartment she shared with her friends.

He was about to press the doorbell when the door swung open and there stood the woman who’d made him hate the quiet.

“Slumming?” she mocked.

She was leaning against the open door with her arms crossed, one eyebrow quirked in that way he found incredibly sexy. Not that he would ever tell her that. She had too many weapons in her arsenal already.

“Last time I checked, Rookie,” he remarked, emphasizing his nickname for her, “a penthouse apartment in this neighborhood doesn’t qualify as a slum.”

“Anything would, compared to the quiet luxury that you live in, Doctor Ramsey,” she retorted.

The use of that word — quiet — in this context had him harking back to his earlier thoughts and he turned an uncomfortable shade of red.

Her arms dropped as she straightened away from the door to reach for his hand. Her fingers laced through his as she moved closer.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked softly, her tone concerned as she gazed up at him, easily reading his discomfort.

“Can we talk? Inside?” he asked.

She nodded, keeping her hand in his as she led him inside, closing the door behind him before they walked down the hallway to her room.

He was relieved to see that her roommates had made themselves scarce.

“Don’t worry,” she said, reading him accurately again. “Sienna and I are the only ones here tonight. The others are either on shift or away for the night.”

She shut the bedroom door behind them, leaning back against it rather than joining him by the bed.

“You’re going to make this hard on me, aren’t you?” he asked as she continued to watch him.

“If this is about our text conversation earlier, then yes,” she said unequivocally.

She moved away from the door then, brushing past him to sit down on the armchair next to her window. He waited a beat and then sat down on the side of the bed, facing her.

“You were right,” he said with a huff. “I’m being an ass and I’m sorry. Tobias Carrick saved your life when he developed that antidote. For that alone, I am forever grateful to him and am willing to put aside any ill feelings from whatever transpired before and welcome him to the team.”

She smiled at the disgruntled expression on his face.

“Aww. What a lovely apology,” she teased, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Excruciatingly so,” he admitted with a pained expression. “Am I ever going to win against you?”

“It’s doubtful,” she said with a laugh. “If you make it a competition, I’m winning. You just gotta accept it, babe. After all, isn’t that how I earned my spot on the team?”

He rolled his eyes at that. She let out a yelp when he suddenly leaned forward to grab her by the arms and pull her onto his lap.

She rested her forehead against his, hands clasped behind his neck as she found her balance.

“Now that you have me here, Dr. Ramsey,” she quipped, her tongue teasing the inner shell of his ear, “what do you plan to do with me?”

“We’re going to play another type of game, babe,” he said, his lips slowly trailing down the side of her neck, leaving nerve endings in their wake. “And this time, we both get to win.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said, pushing him back on the bed as she climbed over him.

Her fingers made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt, but when her hand touched the front of his pants, he flipped her over. He lowered his hips against hers, watching her eyes darken as she felt him push into her through their clothes.

Smirking at the effect he knew he had on her, he shifted only to press one palm against her core, revelling in the way she groaned, her hips rising off the bed. His hands untied the strings holding up her shorts, pushing them down and then off along with her panties.

“You might want to hold on,” he leered, slithering his way down her body. “And remember, Sienna’s in the next room. Ten bucks you can’t hold back your moans.”

Cassie would have said challenge accepted but she was too busy biting the inside of her cheek as his tongue dived in. Those clever fingers of his kneaded her breasts, tweaking her nipples until she ached to have his mouth on the hard points.

Her hands found purchase on the sheets, grasping them as her body thrashed on the bed when he increased the pressure. Unable to hold back, despite her best efforts, Cassie buried her face in the pillow, but it wasn’t enough as her muffled cries echoed across the room.

When she finally came down from the high it was to find him holding his hand out to her.

“Pay up,” was all he said, smirking in that self-satisfied way she couldn’t help but find sexy.

Not that she would ever tell him that. He had too many weapons in his arsenal already.

“Can I pay it in kind?” she asked with a sly glance, her hands cupping him through his pants.

He appeared to give that some thought before smiling down at her.

“I told you,” he affirmed, reaching for her hand to entwine their fingers. “This is one game we both can win.”

With that they both lunged for each other, clothes flying across the room. They got lost in their world, which was full of beautiful colors and sounds that were unique to them.

Perma-tags: @jamespotterthefirst @starryeyedrookie @genevievemd @forallthatitsworth @queencarb @ohchoices @openheartfan @danijimenezv @potionsprefect @quixoticdreamer16 @schnitzelbutterfingers @mainstreetreader @tsrookie @bex-la-get @chaoticchopshopheart @headoverheelsforramsey @thegreentwin @dorisz @custaroonie @pixelnathayes @takemyopenheart @jerzwriter @mm2305 @a-crepusculo @barbean @beastlyinstrument @electroniccreatorwerewolf @rosebudde @lucy-268 @crazy-loca-blog @writer-ish @pixelberrygirl @wanderingamongthewildflowers @trappedinfanfiction @rookiemartin @drakewalkerfantasy @anonymousrookie @natureblooms24

@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

[the-void-writes]

For those pipping hot OC asks-

I have fallen for Dante - I'm so sorry 🙈

I'm sorry there's so many things I want to know about him - SO: 🥵💪👀🧠😍💐 for Dante xD

Thank you 😏❤️

@bloodlessheirbyjacques ✨(:

@bloodlessheirbyjacques 🤣🤣🤣 Don’t be sorry, I’m so glad you love him!

So I got carried away by the end of this 😅 Sorry for the length.

🥵 : Is your OC perceived as physically attractive to others? Is it at first glance or is it something that takes more time to reach fruition?

It’s funny because it depends on what time the people in Paradise came from. If they lived more recently, they absolutely think Dante’s hot. Everyone from the more historical side just ignores him and runs straight into King Gazali’s arms (it’s the Sweet Himbo King energy 😂) They start to change their minds after Dante opens up more and shows his kinder nature.

💪 : What is your OC’s most physically attractive attribute?

That million-dollar-smile. He flashes that once and everyone just forgets what they’re doing. Those golden eyes are also pretty deadly, when they catch the light just right, and he kind of hates it, because it’s part of how the Infection is mutating him. (Vesely’s disease is color-coded, how fun 🤣)

🧠 : What is your OC’s most mentally attractive attribute?

His creativity and mechanical intelligence. Dante’s stepfather was an ass, but at least his money got him a good education in robotics and engineering. Dude went from making voice-activated toys for the poor kids in his old neighborhood to building six lifelike android dancers because he didn’t want to hire any real people and make them uncomfortable. He doesn’t let anyone touch his bots in a demeaning way.

👀 : Does your OC believe they are attractive? Do they use that to their advantage?

Oh, he knows he’s hot stuff, and he’s proud of it. He doesn’t really use it, though, except maybe on Will the first time they meet because they both kind of got sidelined while the others fought Vesely’s army, and Dante’s sitting there like “well the only thing I can think of is making out until the war’s over.” But Will is fed up with people deciding he’s too useless to fight and asks Dante to help him sneak into the new facility because they were both Infected and deserve their justice against Vesely. That’s when Dante knows that there’s something interesting about this new guy, something worth sticking around for.

😍 : What does your OC find irresistible in others?

Mystery. His powers let him see people’s emotions and sometimes change them, so he can usually read people like a book, but Will shows up with all his repressed memories, and Dante is excited to get to know him without immediately sensing everything about him. Dante also can’t resist someone he can be playful around. He knows he’s hot, but he wants his relationship to be about more than that. He wants someone he can sit with at the back of the palace so they can roast people together, someone who’s up for sliding down the hill in a shopping cart like the good old days.

And as mentioned above, Dante loves when someone takes charge and fights for what’s right. He fell in love with Vani after seeing how hard he worked to make their city a better place to live, but Vani wasn’t always the nicest person. Will, on the other hand, risks life and limb to save people that weren’t even that nice to him because he won’t let anyone suffer the way he and his family did. Dante almost proposed to him right then and there 😂

💐 : What is their courting style? How would they woo someone?

Back in the day, he would have just done the old “movie theater date” routine, but after he sees what Will’s been through, he takes things real slow. Nothing explicitly romantic at first, like a walk around the market or hanging out at one of Gazali’s parties. Then, when he’s sure Will is open to it, it’s stargazing in the observatory or out in the forest. And then, he’ll actually ask him to a royal dance. It’s the patience that does it for Will, but he has to admit that he loves the attention, as well.

Thank you for letting me ramble about them, I love them so much ☺️

[phantasmagoriaoriginals]

Aurora Volkov — Character Questions

How old are they? — Thirteen. 

What gender are they? — Female. 

What is their romantic/sexual orientation? — Bisexual/romantic

How tall are they? — 5′0/153cm

What do they look like? — Fair skin, petite build, even for her age. Smoky gray hair cut in a short bob and parted to the left. Big, round, crimson-colored eyes, a small nose, pointed chin, and thin eyebrows. A spattering of freckles over her nose and cheeks. Small hands and a perpetual smile. 

What are their defining features? — Her height and small size, the freckles all over her face, and the hair and eyes that match her brother’s. 

Does their name have a meaning? — Aurora means “dawn” and Volkov means “wolf”. Her first name was given to her by her brother. 

What family do they have? — Her brother, Oberon, is her only living family that she knows of. Oberon doesn’t talk about anyone else. 

Do they have a good relationship with their family? — Oberon won’t tell her much about her parents. He says that they were bad people, so he took her away from them. Aurora has the feeling that he did something to them, but there’s no way of knowing. When it comes to Oberon himself, she couldn’t be closer. Her big brother is her everything and closest friend. 

If not, why not? — Aurora has never known any of her family outside of her brother, so she doesn’t have any idea why Oberon doesn’t like them. All she has to go on is what he’s said. 

Where do they live? — In a decent-sized apartment in a relatively isolated part of the city. Fifth floor in the building and with a window with a view of distant skyscrapers. It’s not the biggest place, but it’s clean and well-furnished. Oberon has moved her around a lot, so Aurora doesn’t expect to live there for long. 

Is it a safe place? — Kind of. The area isn’t the safest place, but Aurora has never had trouble. Oberon makes sure that she never has to be afraid of anything. People in the neighborhood seem to avoid her. 

Are they poor, middle-class, or wealthy? — Middle-class, she thinks. Although she doesn’t know what Oberon’s job is, he always has enough money to keep her fed and taken care of. They’re not rich, by any means, but she usually gets what she asks for if she’s reasonable. They were poorer when she was little. Aurora can’t remember when that changed. 

Do they look up to anyone? — Oberon, above anyone. Aurora’s big brother is both the nicest and strongest person in the world to her. He’s the one who’s always taken care of her and kept her safe. There’s no one she loves more. 

Who is their best friend? — Again, her brother. She doesn’t have many friends, and the only people she interacts with regularly are him and Kalon. 

Do they have any enemies? — Not that she knows of. While Aurora has a feeling that her brother has a lot of enemies, no one’s ever gotten close to her. There’s always someone “babysitting” (more like bodyguarding) her, so she’s never had anything to worry about. Although she does wonder why that is, she doesn’t want to question Oberon or cause him stress. He tells her things when she needs to know, so she doesn’t ask. 

Who is the person they hate most in the world? — Her parents, probably. Aurora never knew them, but Oberon seems to hate them, so she does too. She thinks that they did a lot to hurt him. 

Do they have any love/hate relationships? — Kalon, kind of. He’s the person who babysits her more often... and probably Oberon’s only “friend”. Kalon seems scared of her brother, but he treats her nicely. Aurora sort of resents him because he likes to tease her and because he’s a little too protective... even though she knows Oberon would be mad if he wasn’t. 

Have they ever fallen in love? — Nope. She hasn’t been around enough people to have had a chance at it. 

Who is the person they love the most in the world? — Again, Oberon. For the same reasons as listed above. 

Does that person love them back? — Yes. Oberon absolutely adores his baby sister, and Aurora knows that he’d do anything to protect her. She’s never had to feel afraid or unloved because of him. She’s probably the only person in the world that he loves, and she treasures that. 

Have they ever hurt or lost anyone? — In a way, her parents. Aurora knows that she has to have had them, but she also knows that Oberon took her away from them shortly after she was born. 

Are they a good shoulder to cry on? — Somewhat. Aurora isn’t the most empathetic person, but if she likes you, she’ll always try her best to help you feel better. She’s the type who likes to solve problems through action, so she’s more likely to go out and find a solution to why you’re upset than sit there and comfort you during the tears. 

Are they well-liked? — In a complicated way, yes. The people she’s met that Oberon works with seem to like her, but that might just be because they’re too scared of her brother to say or do otherwise. She’s never had any friends, so she’s not sure if normal people would like her very well. 

How do they handle being complimented? — Takes compliments well. She’s used to getting them from her brother, so they don’t take her off guard in the slightest. Smiles and thanks the person who complimented her, and usually has something nice to say in return. 

Are they an affectionate person? — Very much so! Aurora doesn’t have many people to be affectionate with, but she looks after Oberon as well as she can. She’s the one who cooks for him, patches up his wounds when he gets hurt, and hugs him when he has nightmares and wakes up with tears on his face. She has to know someone to be affectionate with them, but at that point, she’s a natural caretaker who wants the people close to her to be okay. 

Are they very driven? — Absolutely. While she doesn’t have much to aim for yet, Aurora is driven to be as useful as possible to her brother and do everything to support him. When she sets herself to a goal, she’s unstoppable. 

Are they very political? — Doesn’t think about politics at all. 

What kind of state is the world that they live in? — Aurora lives in a world created by her brother. She’s ignorant to most things that go on outside of it and really only sees what Oberon wants her to. She’s had a happy life for the most part... but it’s one of being blind to reality. 

Does the character worry about their place in society? — No. Aurora is as happy as can be with how she lives. 

If they could change one thing, what would it be? — She’d like her big brother to be happier. Oberon, even though he never says it outright, seems sad to her. If she could change anything, Aurora would want him to have an easier life where he doesn’t have to fight so hard to protect her. She’d like to be stronger so she can take care of him too. 

Do they like themselves? — For the most part, yes. There’s nothing not to like. Aurora has good self-confidence, mostly because she’s been raised by someone who sees her as the light in his life. 

Are they a good person? — Kind of. Her morals are debatable by technical standards, but she’s the sort of person to do what she thinks is right. It just happens that Aurora’s definition of “right” and society’s tend to be different. 

Are they very forgiving? — To a certain degree, and it depends on the offense. Over small mistakes, yes. For big things, it can take a while for her to forgive. 

Do they believe in destiny? — She’s never had a reason to, and she doesn’t think much about things like destiny and chance, in the first place. Life is best lived day-to-day, not thinking about what could be. 

Are they trustworthy? — Not exactly. Aurora is a somewhat selfish person who would rather get what she wants than tell the truth, and she’s picked up some bad habits from her brother in that regard. If she’s serious, she’ll always do what she promises, but she’s alone prone to lying. 

Are they a good liar? — Incredibly so. She can lie with a perfectly straight face and make up impeccable stories on the fly. The only people who can tell she’s lying are Oberon and (sometimes) Kalon. 

How do they react to criticism? — Usually brushes it off and doesn’t pay it much mind, but it does depend on who it comes from. She won’t listen to “nobodies”, but if her brother criticizes something she does, she’ll take it very seriously and try to improve. Her response relies a lot on how much she respects the person giving the criticism. 

What is their moral alignment? — Good... sort of. Aurora has good intentions, but because of how she’s grown up, she also doesn’t hesitate to do some pretty shady stuff. She’d lie, hurt people, or manipulate them to get what she wants, but she doesn’t do it for no reason. 

Can they fight? — From the time she was a little kid, Oberon taught her self-defense skills and basic combat. Aurora never knew why he was so insistent that she know how to protect herself, but she learned anyway, and learned well. As it is, she’s a very capable fighter for her age and size.

Would they ever purposefully hurt someone? — Yes, and she has. She was a pretty violent child, even if it was often just playing around, but even in recent years, Aurora is quick to resort to violence if she feels that she has to. Threatening people to get what she needs (a learned habit) is easy for her, and she’s not afraid of violence or enacting it herself. It doesn’t bother her a bit to see people in pain. 

Have they ever been seriously injured? — Not in the slightest. Aside from typical childhood scratches and scrapes, Oberon has made sure that she’s never suffered a major injury of any kind. 

Do they know first aid? — Quite well. It’s another skill that her brother made sure she knew even when she was little. 

Do they have any other survival skills? — Aurora has survival skills in the sense of street smarts. She was taught young how to keep herself safe from harm when she’s on her own and how to rely on her instincts when she needs to. 

Are they a fast learner? — Incredibly so. She’s a lot smarter than she initially appears, and picking up skills, in particular, comes very easily to her. It does depend on what she’s learning, but generally, Aurora learns fast, and if she’s interested in it, she’ll study like crazy to improve. 

How intelligent are they? — Aurora’s intelligence is somewhat unusual. She’s not outstanding when it comes to book smarts, but her practical and survival-based intelligence is off the charts. Living with her brother (and some level of natural aptitude) has given her good instincts. When it comes to keeping herself safe and knowing what to do in a tough situation, she’s very smart. Making quick decisions comes easily to her. 

What is their school system like? — Entirely homeschooled. Oberon didn’t let her go to a regular school. Instead, he brought home textbooks and workbooks (from unknown sources) and helped her get through them himself. Aurora is pretty sure that she’s better schooled than he is, though. 

What is their job? — She’s too young to have a real one, so her “job” is looking after her big brother and taking care of their house. 

Do they enjoy their job? — Very much. The happiest Aurora can be is when she makes Oberon happy and takes some of his constant stress away from him. She likes her life, in general. 

. . . 

(Questions used from here)

[oasisspringstownie]

FAME: A Legacy Challenge

Sul sul simmers!

Like many of you, one of my favorite things to do in The Sims is play Legacy Challenges. They lead you to explore new aspects of gameplay, give you new imaginative ideas, and facilitate storytelling. So, a couple of nights ago I got the idea to create a new kind of legacy challenge revolving around different aspects of fame.

The goal isn’t exactly to become the most famous using said career/ skill, but to play around with different elements of the fame system in the game. You by no means need all the packs to play through this legacy. While the experience would be more complete and you will be missing careers and skills and stuff you can obviously adapt it to your need. Also, you are more than welcomed to use mods to enrich your gameplay. I myself can’t play without mods and look forward to see what kind of chaos mods can add to this challenge.

So without further a do below are the 10 generations I concocted like a fever dream at 2 am on a Saturday evening:

Gen 1: A Shaky Foundation

Traits: Cheerful, Ambitious, Self-Absorbed

Career: Acting, Style Influencer (Trendsetter Branch)

You move to a new city full of hopes and dreams. You initially pursue your dream of becoming an actor. However, your career is cut short by the unexpected arrival of your first child. You retreat from the spotlight in order to raise your baby and put all of your energy into making sure they have the best future possible. The rest of the time you spend either working or trying to unwind from your demanding life. What will fate bring you and your descendants?

Goals:

Move into an empty lot with 1600 simoleons for the bare minimum.

Start in the Acting Career, but abandon it for the Style Influencer career once your first child is born. Remain in the Style Influencer Career and eventually choose the Trendsetter Branch.

Max out the Style Influencer Career.

Reach level 10 of the Parenting and Wellness Skills.

Be close friends with all of your children and make sure they each age up with at least 2 positive character attributes.

Gen 2: Get Your Head in the Game

Traits: Active, Music Lover, Outgoing

Career: Athlete, Entertainment (Musician Branch)

Your parent might have seemed very overbearing at the time, but they instilled a work ethic in you like no other. Your entire life you were split between your two passions: basketball and singing. Okay, fine, you're Troy Bolton. After succeeding in the sports world you still find yourself feeling somewhat unfulfilled. You enter the entertainment career later on in life to live out your dreams. Will this be the start of something new?

Goals:

Max out the Athlete Career and then switch to the Entertainment Career (Musician Branch).

Max out the Fitness and Singing Skills.

Be in the drama club in high school.

Gen 3: Going for the Stars

Traits: Clumsy, Loner, Genius

Career: Astronaut

Your parent always told you to shoot for the stars, you just took it a bit too seriously. This world was always a bit too pedestrian for you and you yearn to finally lay your eyes on the astronomical craters of Sixam. There's just one problem: you're terrible at it. It's not your fault, you're just a bit clumsy; but will your two left feet keep you from reaching your dreams?

Goals:

Work in the Astronaut Career your entire life. Get demoted and fired at least once in your lifetime.

Destroy and repair a rocket 3 times.

Live in a tiny home for your young adulthood and adulthood.

Have at least one set of twins. *You can cheat for this!*

Gen 4: The Finer Things in Life

Traits: Materialistic, Hates Children, Lazy

Career: None

You've seen all the generations before you work their little pixelated butts off for every simoleon, but you're not about that life. You were destined for the finer things in life.

Goals

Reach level 10 of the Charisma and Mixology Skills.

Marry and survive 5 spouses. Take that wording however you want. Divorce is not allowed. You must be the last once standing. After all, spouses are like infinity stones. Meaningless.

Never have a job. Only make money from spouses, family, or children. If you get desperate enough you can ask a friend for a loan or steal, but no working of any kind.

Each child you decide to have with one of your rich spouses comes with a 20k trust fund. If they get taken away or die before coming of age, all the money has to be returned to the evil capitalist overlords. You can't get rid of them that easily.

Own at least 1 restaurant/ retail/ business with one of your spouses. Decorate it, assign the uniform, and hire everyone, but you never run it. Why would you go through the trouble?

Gen 5: My Precious

Traits: Art Lover, Kleptomaniac, Self-Assured

Career: Criminal

Your childhood was pretty hectic and you felt like you barely knew your parents. Who needs them? You've never needed anyone else anyway. On your 18th birthday, you receive your inheritance and use it to buy yourself an unfurnished apartment in the nicest building you can find and that's when your money runs out... literally. However, will a new job as a tough guy be the first of many great ideas or will it only be the beginning of the end for this famed family?

Goals

Once you become a young adult give yourself enough money to buy one of the apartments in the Uptown Neighborhood in San Myshuno. It must be unfurnished. After moving in set your money to 0 simoleons.

Complete the Criminal Career.

Reach level 10 of the Mischief and Dancing Skills.

Gain an atrocious reputation and spend the rest of your life trying to cover it up.

Steal 10 paintings from a museum and exhibit them proudly in your home. You are never allowed to sell them. As an adult, hide them in a secret attic nobody else has access to or knows about. They are your precious.

Gen 6: The Muses

Traits: Creative, Family Oriented, Insider

Career: Painter

You could have anything you wanted in the world thanks to your family's empire so you pursued your passion: painting. While you were never close to your other family members you were always very close to your art teacher. This led you to have very close ties to your friends, co-workers, and eventual children. Will your legacy remain for longer in the memory of strangers or your loved ones?

Goals

Complete the Painter Career

Reach level 10 of the Painting, Cooking and Baking Skills

Have a better relationship with your art teacher than anyone else in your family until you're a teen.

Move to a new world once you become a young adult and cut ties with your family.

Be the leader of one club for all your young adulthood and adulthood.

Be close friends with 3 co-workers and all of your children.

Prepare a meal at least once a week with the help of your children. *I know we don't have this in the game yet technically, but I'm hoping to have Cottage Living by the time I play with this generation*

Hang 5 paintings in a museum.

Retire from Painting Career to help care for your grandchildren.

Gen 7: Mole

Traits: Good, Perfectionist, Paranoid

Career: None

You always had a good relationship with your parents. You told each other everything... well, almost everything. You never understood why but one of your parents never talked about the rest of your family members. They explained that they simply never had a good relationship and would rather not talk about it. You respect this until their death when you return to their seemingly abandoned childhood home. While exploring the house you find a not-so-subtle bookcase door and a long forgotten attic filled with paintings. You take them in hopes of returning them but unbeknownst to you, you are being watched.

After an unfortunately unavailable nail-biting car chase, you shake off your attackers. You can't just lead them home to the rest of your family and what would the police do? They don't even arrest Vlad when he's trying to bite all of your sims!

Sorry, different rant.

So you do the only logical thing: you sell the paintings you just stole for some cash to buy an empty lot and skip town. A new life awaits you... just a bit underground.

Goals

Reach level 10 of the Writing, Logic, and Handiness Skills.

Complete the Best Selling Author Aspiration.

After your parent dies, you visit Gen 5's main home and retrieve the paintings hidden in the attic generations ago. Sell them and use the money to buy an empty lot in a completely different world.

Use your remaining money to build a small underground bunker. You can now never leave your bunker or risk immediate death.

You make your income by writing books under your new name. Oh, didn't I mention that? You changed your name to avoid detection. Your children may carry this new fake last name or your partner's.

Gen 8: Part of Your World

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Outgoing, Geek

Career: Social Media

All you knew was the bunker and it's not that you hated it, you just wanted a bit more. You're basically the little mermaid, except you don't get to be a mermaid. You just get a bunker you can never leave and a desperate yearning to explore the outside world.

Your outlet is the internet. From a young age you loved using it to play video games and make friends. As a teen you began to make videos and fostered a community online. Will you finally take your place in the world or remain hidden underground?

Goals

Reach level 10 of the Media Production and Video Gaming Skills

Complete the Social Media Career.

You're never allowed to leave the underground bunker until you're a teen.

You aren't allowed to go to school. Instead you play video games and use your computer for outside interaction.

As a teen you start developing your online presence by posting on social media and making videos on the video station.

You are only allowed to move out of the household once your parent dies and you have enough money in reserves to buy a furnished home.

Gen 9: Natural Born Performer

Traits: Gloomy, Unflirty, Adventurous

Career: Entertainment (Comedy Branch)

Due to your parent's fame, it was always expected you would follow in their footsteps. While a bit more gloomy than most, you are happiest when you make others laugh. So you join the Entertainer Career where you flourish as a comedian. You're also a bit unlucky in love. Will the family name's fame and your own notoriety keep you from finding true love or are you destined to a lifetime of gold diggers and one night stands?

Goals

Complete the Entertainer Career (Comedy Branch).

Reach level 10 of the Comedy and Rock Climbing skills.

Complete Serial Romantic Aspiration

Have four children.

Die suddenly and *mysteriously* in your adulthood.

Gen 10: A Grand Finale

Traits: Kleptomaniac, Ambitious, Perfectionist

Career: Actor

After losing your parents at a very young age, you and your siblings were sent to live with some distant relatives you didn't even know about. While you and your siblings are all very different and you bicker plenty, you always stick together.

After learning you are a descendant of some of the most famous and infamous sims in history, you are determined to meet and surpass their achievements. Will you come out on top or have you flown too close to the sun?

Goals

Complete the Actor Career

Achieve level 10 of 10 skills of your choosing.

Become a Global Superstar.

Get a star on Starlight Boulevard.

Throughout your lifetime you must go on vacation to every house you lived in throughout all previous 9 generations. Oh, and your three other siblings need to come along too. Think of it as Narnia meets It. Also make sure to steal something from each of the houses as a souvenir and display it proudly in your own home.

After you've completed all the things above, get turned into a vampire and choose to end your mortal legacy here... or start a whole new type all together.

Thank you so much for indulging me in this insanity. While I haven't played through any of these generations myself as of yet, I look forward to see the chaos and cuteness possible in The Sims.

Happy simming!

V

[bibislut]

A Girl Walks Into A Tower

After finding out her best friend is actually Spider Man, Leena's whole world changes. Enter: a meddlesome billionaire, some flirty super soldiers, and one (1) stubborn God of Mischief. Throw in a real need for better communication, a game of spin the bottle and a whole load of banter - and you'll have yourself a real good time at Stark Tower.

Also known as Loki is hella sexy, hella moody and really freakin' stubborn. Featuring: Peter Parker being the cutest, Sam Wilson being a cheeky bitch and a little bit of being a bad ass on the reader's part.

This work has explicit language, sexual content and some mentions of blood / violence, so please take this into consideration before reading!

Word Count: 19,260

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1

You couldn't help but close your eyes as you took the stairs up to your apartment by memory. You'd lived here for nearly a decade now, and the 9 flights' every creak and whine were ingrained in your memory by now, and the 10 hour shift you'd just done could be felt in every muscle: you couldn't help but rest your eyes for a moment.

You finally reached your landing and opened your eyes only to find Peter Parker dozing against your door frame, dried blood staining his skin from his hairline to his eye. The seventeen year old often came to you for a stitch up, not wanting to frighten his Aunt with his injuries. You frowned down at his snoring form and hitched your bag better on your shoulder, crouching down to place your hand on his cheek. "Peter." you whispered, not wanting to startle him. The teenager opened his eyes with a dopey smile.

"Hey, Lele."

"Hey idiot, let's get you inside." You couldn't help but return his warm smile as he shrugged off your attempt to help him up - you always forgot how strong he was. You pulled your keys from out of your pocket and opened the door. Dropping your bag to the floor, you flicked on the lights and shut the door behind Peter, watching him limp to your kitchen table.

"What happened this time?" you asked as you rolled up your sleeves and washed your hands. You reached for a flannel from the bottom drawer and ran it under the hot water.

"Just some kids from school."

Even though you couldn't see his face, you knew the teenager would be picking at his lips like he did every time he lied. You knew he'd never tell you what really went on before he turned up to your apartment - he never did. You rung out the cloth.

"I swear to God Peter, if I come home one day to find you dead on my doorstep, I will resurrect you just to kill you myself." You couldn't help the motherly tone that clipped your words, despite only having a few years on the boy. Peter winced both at your words and at the pressure you applied as you wiped away the blood. As you cleaned the wound, you were relieved to see that it wouldn't need stitches, but there was a good chance it would scar. You frowned.

"I know, I know! I'm sorry Leena..." He surged forwards to wrap you in a tight hug and you sighed into his hair. You'd known him since he was 6 and you were practically family now. His uncle and your dad had died the same year, your mom joining them a few years ago. You'd always looked after each other, silently vowing protection over the other with each funeral attended. A loud banging at the door pulled you both apart, and you looked at each other in silence as you went to the drawers and pulled out your handgun, Peter walking into the shadows as was protocol (though you had never had to follow it before).

You were a good shot, but Peter was much more quiet and agile - a surprise attack suited him well. You don't know when you'd both become so jumpy, perhaps it was when Aliens began ransacking the city in 2012, or when the murders on the news became more frequent, or when... It didn't really matter. The world was a shit storm, and you'd let hell freeze over before you let anyone you loved get hurt because you weren't prepared.

You looked through the peephole to see someone you most certainly would not have expected. You turned to whisper to the shadows where you knew Peter was. "It's Tony Stark!" Peter emerged quickly, pushing you out of the way to unlatch the door, leaving you gaping like a fish.

"Hey, Mr Stark!" He threw himself at the billionaire, wrapping his arms around him. The businessman-turned-superhero patted the boy's back. The dirt that covered Peter smeared across the obviously expensive navy suit, but neither seemed to care.

"Good to see you alive, kid. Friday said you had some injuries and when I looked on your suit tracker you weren't in your apartment." He pulled Peter back to stare at him sternly. "Care to explain?" You looked at the two of them in shock. Since when had Peter met Tony Stark? And since when had they become so obviously close? The worry etched across the philanthropist's face certainly seemed genuine enough.

Peter turned to look at you anxiously. "I was with Leena, I stopped a robbery a couple blocks away, but they must have got me because I was bleeding, so I came here. She does a great job of cleaning me up, and I didn't want to scare Aunt May, you know how she wo-" he babbled, looking between the two of you, but stopped as Tony made a 'zip it' motion. You frowned at Peter's words; since when did he stop robberies? You put the gun you forgot you had been holding in the waist pants of your jeans and stepped forwards, offering your hand, which was far steadier than you expected.

"I'm Leena, I've known Peter since we were kids."

Tony shakes your hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, Tony Stark." You look between the two of them as awkward silence begins to fill the air. You turn to gesture towards your apartment.

"Would you like to come in?" That was what you were supposed to do, right? Offer hospitality? You shook your head quickly to yourself. What the hell was going on?

You lead the way for the two guys, but put a hand on Peter's chest. "Go wash your hands before I catch you putting dirt in the wound I just cleaned." He offers you a salute as he turns down the corridor.

You make your way back to the kitchen to find Mr Stark lounging at the table in the spot where Peter had sat. "Tea or Coffee?" you ask. You wonder for a moment if the month old dollar brew in your cupboard is even worth offering.

"Coffee, black, one sugar." He offers you a thankful smile. You turn around and pull out three mugs, one tea, one coffee and one hot chocolate for Peter. "I bet cleaning up Mr Friendly-Neighborhood-Spider-Boy gets a bit tiring." The billionaire offers as a replacement for the silence. You stiffen, turning to stare at him.

"What?"

He curses under his breath “He didn't tell you?" The business mogul suddenly looks panicked - a glaring contrast to the confident man you'd seen on TV.

You snap your neck to look at the now-frozen Peter Parker standing in the doorway, a sheepish smile on his face.

"What the flying fuck, Peter?!"

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

You woke the next day at noon, not as rested as you'd hoped after you'd spent most of last night arguing with Peter. You had to admit you were proud of him, and it did make a lot of sense now that you thought about it. His constant 'fights at school', how light on his feet he was, how agile, how strong he was. You were kind of pissed that you hadn't figured it out before to be honest. You had had a hard time believing it all, but once Peter pulled his suit from his stash behind the couch, you didn't really have a choice but to accept the truth. Tony Stark had also been quite nice to talk to, and the way he treated Peter as his own was so great to see. He'd always needed a father figure. Tony had watched the two of you with rapt interest, seemingly pleased to meet someone so close to Peter. After a while Peter fell asleep on the couch, his head on your shoulder and you and Tony had mouthed your goodbyes. He'd woken up about an hour later and you gave him a hug as he climbed through your window to sneak back to his own apartment.

You sat up and stretched, stifling a yawn as you padded down the hall to the kitchen. A big yellow envelope hung from your letter box and you grabbed it curiously.

EVICTION NOTICE!

"Shit!" You cursed loudly, tearing it open. You knew the landlord was a slimy bastard, but you couldn't believe he was kicking you out. He was a selfish layabout and owned a few of the apartments in the building, yours being the nicest and largest. Knowing him, he probably wanted it so he could move in with his new girlfriend. Of course, he didn't say that in the notice, only that you had two weeks to pack your things and go.

*****

You'd spent the whole day at work lost in your thoughts, barely noticing the caffeine crazed customers around you.You didn't have enough saved to move anywhere decent, yet alone pay the first month's rent upfront as most landlords wanted. You couldn't move in with family - they were all dead or on the other side of the country. You didn't really have any close friends, only your work colleagues. That left Peter's place - but you knew they didn't have a spare room and you certainly couldn't squish everything you had into their living room.

You were still racking your brains by the time the last customer left the coffee shop at 9.55PM, and you hurried to wash their cup and sweep up, locking up and leaving. You trudged through the bitter cold of late-October the five blocks back to your building, bumping into the spider-boy himself in the foyer. You began walking up the stairs together, but found Peter frowning at you as you realized he'd asked you a question. You blinked at him.

"What?"

"You alright Lele? You seem distracted."

You pushed your hair out of your face with a grimace. "I'm being evicted."

It was Peter's turn to blink at you. "What?"

"That bozo, Ethan, is kicking me out." You tried to keep the childlike petulance out of your voice but failed miserably.

"Oh, shit. What are you gonna do?" You hated to be the reason for Peter's worried expression.

"I don't know. I'll figure something out though Pete, I always do." You kissed him on the cheek and patted him on the arm as you reached your perspective doors. "Goodnight, Pete."

Friday was usually games night, but he seemed to understand your lack of excitement without you having to explain. You threw him a grateful look and went your separate ways.

Read the rest on Ao3

[purple-baby-d]

a good man.

Choi Seunghyun (T.O.P.  — BIGBANG) x female reader.

Genre: I don’t know, it’s kinda angst, but also fluff and then it gets kinda smut... I’m a mess but whatevs.

Word count: 2,994.

Content: rich!top, gambler!gdragon, heartbroken!reader, college friends, descriptions of domestic violence, top being a hella interesting and caring man, vanilla sex (love making), unprotected sex, just the fluffy smut I needed to write as soon as zyanya told me she needed a good top reading material.

Brief: as you finally run away from your years-long toxic relationship, your best friend is right there to pick you up, and some feelings might bloom all over again once you let your hearts speak.

Dedicated to @theravengoddess​ 💜

"Do whatever you want, but leave me out of it!", you yelled, shutting the door closed as you left the apartment you and your troubled ex-boyfriend lived in, rain falling over your shoulders and your luggage as you cried silently. Where did it all go wrong?, you asked yourself, trying to understand why Jiyong, your former couple, had fallen into the darkest roads, and it was his short-tempered mood and up-to-the-clouds ego that led you both to self-destruction, and you knew it was over a long time ago.

But still, you somehow wanted to blame yourself for it.

Running down the roads of that small neighborhood you lived in, you sobbed to yourself, wanting to get as far as possible from that misery you left at your apartment. The buildings slowly started looking nicer as you kept running, ending up on one of the nicest neighborhoods of your city. As you walked in front of a nice restaurant, you bumped into a tall man, who sadly you recognized as your best friend, Seunghyun.

"Y/N? Princess, you're soaked!" he told you, giving you his old, rusty leather jacket to protect you from the cold night you ran into. "Why are you crying? What happened?", he kept asking, concerned by the tears that kept streaming down your face, not really knowing what to do anymore. "Come on, tell me something, please".

You just laid your head in his hands, reuniting every last strength of yours to tell him about the worst night of your mid-length life. Jiyong had bursted into your lovenest, the one you've shared for years now, looking desperately for money to pay his debts. You walked out of your workspace after hearing his whole rendezvous, the scandal making the neighbors concerned as things kept crashing on the floor, breaking into little, tiny pieces of glass as he then repaired on you. He shook your shoulders, asking you where you'd left the money you were saving for your years-planned dream vacations with him. You knew exactly what happened: he was gambling again, even when he told you he would stop after losing his dream car to it.

You told him to stop looking, that he wouldn't find it and he was definitely not using it, but you knew you were up to no good when rage got the best of him, combined with the drinks he was having back at that illegal casino he loved. He pushed you to the floor and kicked you out of the way once you tried to stop him. Still in pain, you got up and grabbed the bags you'd packed weeks prior in case of emergency, the money he was desperately looking for safe in one of them. You left your old phone at the apartment, along with everything he could locate you with. And although he deserved it, you still cried thinking about the years of your life you wasted on him, hoping he could change somehow.

Hoping he could become the good man your mother always said you deserved.

"God... I'd kick his ass, but that would lead him to know where you are", Seunghyun sighed, looking at you as his thumb stroke your cheek, weeping your tears off. "Don't cry, princess, you're breaking me slowly", he begged you, holding you close without caring about getting his expensive designer clothes wet or damaged. In that moment, he cared solely about you, about how you were dealing with finally leaving the toxic relationship you've kept yourself in for the last few years, at some point even thinking of marrying the guy who had just hurt you phisically and emotionally. "Come on, you can stay with me for as long as you please", he offered you, looking down at you with a smile. "Are you hungry? Wanna grab some food before we go?", he asked softly, to which you couldn't say no. Even though you weren't in the mood, you were starving, and the mixture of all the time you spent running combined with the nice smell flooding your nostrills thanks to the restaurants that surrounded you made your mouth water.

He ordered takeout as you waited in his black sports car, the heat was on as he tried to keep you from freezing, his jacket still over your shoulders as you watched him through the window. You met Seunghyun years ago, in college, to be precise. He was a natural hardworker, the best in his classes, the most promising future from our generation, and he stood up to that title. He started his own business, dedicated to funding different medical researches and environmental causes, such as cleaning the oceans or preventing deforestation. That was his happy place, knowing he was doing what he could to help, and he was tremendously well-known amongst the Korean community, earning several awards and rename because of it. Still, he was sweet, kind, polite, humble... everything your mother could wish for in a husband for her daughter.

You still couldn't understand how his only friend in college was a humble girl from a working class family, let alone how he still was single at his thirty-two years of age.

He sighed as he got in the car, touching your forehead gently to check on your body temperature, his concerned expression somehow making you feel safe. "You're still quite cold, but at least you won't get sick", he told you, his deep, raspy voice making you smile with the words it pronounced. "Thank you, Seunghyun", you muttered, making him smile to you in return. He drove down the roads that lead to his apartment as the city lights made the tamished glass of your window look quite artistic, and the raindrops that stuck to it started blurring as he sped up. Some low-fi music playing in the background as he looked ahead, his hands shaking on the steering wheel until he finally turned onto the underground parking lot of the building he lived in. He parked the car and got out of it, taking your luggage out of the car and taking it upstairs as he walked next to you, not letting you move a finger.

You gasped as the elevator led you to his apartment, the penthouse of one of the fanciest buildings around the whole city. Still on the minimalist spectrum, it looked so fancy and elegant, just like its owner. "Mi casa es tu casa, princess", he told you, taking your luggage to one of the rooms. "Get yourself comfortable, you can use the library as your workspace, and I'll settle a room for you. Until then, you can sleep on mine, I sleep on the couch most of the time, anyways". Without letting you hesitate, he left your bags on the laundry room, washing them over since they gained a certain smell because of the rain.

You noticed he wasn't the average bachelor, even though he lived alone, he still managed to keep everything nice and clean. He then grabbed something from his office, handing it to you. "Use this", he told you, handing you a new phone. "It's my old phone, I also have a spare computer in case you need one. It has a new SIM card and my number's saved on it. It's yours". I nodded, taking it in my hands as I sighed. "Thank you", I muttered. He showed me a little grin, a slight chuckle coming out of his throat. "Is it all you know how to say?", he said, making you smile as he kneeled in front of you, caressing your cheek. "Mine is yours too, princess. You won't need anything as long as I'm here".

There was this tiny moment of tension, you felt like he was way too far from you. The way he made you feel suddenly reminded you of the way you felt about him years ago, that slight crush you developed in him that you immediately faded away with the fear of losing your best friend. Your only friend. But the way he looked at you made you sense something else... something new.

His phone rang, and the caller's ID made him clench his teeth at the most opportune moment. "I'll pick this up, you should take a shower. You can use my clothes for now, my sweaters will probably fit you like dresses", he smiled a little for you, and you nodded, doing as he commanded. He got up from his spot in front of you, picking up the call and walking away from you far enough for his voice not to sound as clear as if he talked in front of you, but you still could hear every word. "The fuck do you want, Jiyong?", he growled, the rage burning through his eyes. "I have no fucking idea, she doesn't pick up her phone and that means she wants to run away from you, so stay the fuck away from her!", he yelled at the phone. "I'll pay every single cent of your goddamn debts only if you promise you'll disappear", he snarled again, making you confused. "I'll find her, and when I do, I'll do what I should've done from the very start, what I didn't do because I cherished our friendship". You then entered the shower, letting the water run over your skin and the noise keep you from listening to the conversation Seunghyun kept on the phone. You washed your hair, appreciating how everything was made to your tall friend's fit, having to stretch out your hand to reach the shampoo.

You got out of the shower, wrapping a towel —a very long one— around your chest to cover you up while you looked for something to wear. You grabbed one of his oversized sweaters, the smell of his cologne making you obsessed with it. Just as you expected, it looked like you were wearing a dress, covering up to the middle of your thighs, giving you some sweater paws which you folded while combing your wet hair. You decided not to wear underwear, since you were dressed enough for it not to be obvious. But as you got out, you could tell he was still on his phone.

After one last "get lost", he hung up, sighing as he rested his back on the wall and your curiosity started shooting up like fireworks. He then got back to you, the rage you sensed in his voice not showing in the comforting smile he dedicated you. "Come on, let's have dinner", he invited you, getting two glasses and some chopsticks out of the kitchen, he then sat down with you, sighing as he served a glass of wine to the two of you from the bottle he bought, not knowing if you were in the mood for soju and deciding to go for the safe choice, your favorite wine. He served even portions of food for the two of you, again not letting you move a single finger to help him. It made you upset, but you couldn't deny how touched you were by the way he was treating you. He caressed your cheek and smiled at you. "Be my guest, princess", he told you with a smile.

You bowed politely at him, grabbing your chopsticks and having a bite of the food he'd bought for you, having you moaning in pleasure at the delicious flavors invading your tastebuds. It was so good, and he made you so happy you nearly forgot what you were about to ask him. But once he'd had his last bite, you took a deep breath and looked at him. "Seunghyun, what were you and Jiyong talking about?", you asked, after a soft "eung?" came out of his full mouth when you called his name. He then took a deep breath and a sip of his glass of wine, turning to look at you. "How much did you hear?", he asked you, concerned. "You said you would find me and do what you should've from the start".

He then sighed, his sight going down to the floor. "Princess, do you remember how you met Jiyong?", he asked softly. "I met him at a party in the dorms", you answered. "He was the host of that party, and he told me to invite you because he thought you were pretty", he told you. "Since he was my senior, I respected his order and did what he said, but the truth is I didn't want him to get anywhere near you... because I was falling in love with you".

You looked at him, shocked. Why was he saying those things? How could he ever fall in love with you? That wasn't the line he drew when you met Jiyong, not even before. But then, I got it: Seunghyun found it difficult to express his true feelings with words, if not to express them at all. He was tender and loving, but when it came to expressing his heart, he wasn't that much of an expert. "But I saw you were developing feelings for Jiyong too, so I stepped back and gave you the freedom to do your life however you decided to do it, because I knew you were strong enough to be good by yourself", he explained, breaking your heart in two as he muttered his point of view with nostalgia. "I wanted you to look at me in other way so badly, but I didn't want to force my feelings into you, nor to ruin our friendship. So I made my vows, I would stay away from you and Jiyong hyung, but I would always take care of you, and so I did".

You took his hand in yours, not really knowing what to say. Your feelings were mutual all along, but you were both so scared to lose eachother, you never thought about letting them bloom. How could you make up for the time you've lost? You were all grown up now, the age for joyful childish dates leaving you behind as soon as you started getting bills to pay. But neither of you cared about that, but about the way the other was feeling. So as Seunghyun leaned closer to you, you leaned in as well. "But I always wanted to be a good man for you, princess", he muttered.

Your lips then met, in the softest yet most special way yours had ever been kissed. His lips were soft and tender to yours, and the way they could naturally move with each other made the two of you know it was worth the wait. No matter how long it has been, you deserved this. You deserved eachother. You broke the kiss, looking for air to breathe as you didn't know how to function anymore as for doing such a simple thing. You looked at him, knowing that you wanted more, that the two of you did. He took your hand and pulled you to his lap, his lips meeting yours again as he held your waist tenderly, and your arms wrapped around him as he lifted you up, walking the two of you to his bedroom and laying you down slowly in his bed. The soft feeling of his sheets under your skin making you smile as he leaned down to kiss you again, holding up the weight of his body as he straddled over you. His lips started leaving kisses down your body as he took off his shirt, later on taking off his sweater from you, biting down on his lip as he realized you were naked, but then undressing himself completely so you were even.

You crawled up to his lap, his throbbing erection making direct contact with your dripping core, and you couldn't handle the foreplay much longer, none of you could. So he did it, right there, he guided you until you sat down on his length, taking it completely once you sat down on his lap, his lips connecting to yours as you kept a slow pace the whole while. You kept going up and down, feeling every single inch of his as he groaned, enjoying your tight, wet core more than he could ever express. You've had sex with Jiyong plenty of times before, but having sex with Seunghyun was different for one single reason: it wasn't sex, you were making love.

He kept up to your pace, respecting it as much as he could, and when the two of you reached the edge, you collapsed in his chest as he collapsed in the bed. You laid over the bed again as he got down to your core, eating out all of your arousal and the combination of his climax with yours. He didn't care, he found it so fantastic he actually could give two shits. He wanted you to feel comfortable, and the moans you let out of your mouth let him know you were enjoying it. Once you were clean, he got up and you grabbed his cheeks, kissing him for what felt like forever. But it felt good, it felt right.

It felt like that was where you needed to be.

"I'll make you fall in love with me too, princess", he told you, but you shook your head in denial. "I fell in love with you a long while ago, Choi Seunghyun", you muttered. And with a little smile of his, he covered the two of you with his bed's sheets and held you close to him, taking a deep breath as everything finally felt like it was the right path to follow, the two of you together at last. And as you were about to fall asleep in his loving arms, you muttered one last sentence.

"You're the good man I needed".

It’s short and not so smutty as I’ve been doing them lately, but I hope you like it! :)

[serenzippity]

Terra

Words: 3324 Member: Jaebeom Pairing: Jaebeom/POC Reader Genre: Angst, Alternative Universe Warning(s): Death, blood, suggestive if you squint

Part 3 of Atrocitas

Cotonou, Benin

It was supposed to be a regular day, one where you woke up and resumed your everyday activities of catering to those who turned their nose up at you. Those rich businessmen and women who found themselves in your port-city—either by chance or obligation—overlooking you as they checked into the nicest rooms Cotonou had to offer. You were invisible and irrelevant to them, just a passing face in the crowds as they worked on shipping deals that were worth more than you’d ever see in a lifetime.

Rising with the sun and falling with the moon, you worked diligently and quickly in your receptionist role that melted the days into agreeable blurs. Despite the monotony, you were content with the lack of color in the monochrome world you’d grown accustomed to.

Wake up. Get ready. Go to school. Go to work. Go home. Eat with your boyfriend. Go to bed. Repeat. It was bland, but you savored the lack of spice.

The slow churn of the world beneath your feet stopped when an errand rock flew through your window at 2 in the morning, waking you from a dreamless sleep. The scattered glass-coated your carpet, and you felt the rare prickle of anger creep up the back of your neck. “Fucking kids,” you muttered putting your slippers and robe on to survey the damage. Making your way to the shattered window you calculated the cost of replacing the pane and gnawed your lip at the thought of having to dip into your humble savings account.

Benin wasn’t a rich country, the lack of streetlights in your modest neighborhood failing to light up your small second-story apartment to what was happening outside. Through the jagged planes you could see shapes moving in the darkness. Squinting through the inky night you could see four people moving quickly, the sounds of cracking concrete pouring through the broken glass. Three people, all dressed in black and blending into the night, were firing off guns at a lone fourth figure. Their silencers muffled the crack of the bullets, but you could see the tell-tale flash of fire each time a trigger was pulled. The fourth figure was standing behind a rudimentary wall of rock, and you had to strain your eyes to see that the wall was in fact made up of chunks of concrete and brick in the middle of the street.

Rubbing your eyes in a bid to dispel any sleep-induced visions, you hoped that you were still dreaming as you watched the rock wall shudder and grow in front of the lone man. You weren’t watching for long, maybe only a couple of minutes in stunned silence or so, before the wall shuddered and seemed to explode from an invisible force. Pieces went flying, most of them meeting the three gunners and crushing them with a sickening crack. Each break of a bone echoed up into your apartment and felt like a needle sticking under your skin. You could hear breathless gasps and the clattering of stone, but all at once it was silent.

With wide, glossy eyes you watched as the final pieces of stone stilled. The lone survivor stood there in silence, as the bodies before him broke under the weight of the rocks. It was obvious to you that the three people firing were dead, and a small cry of fear escaped your lips when your mind put the pieces together. This small noise carried through the broken window and out into the silent night, causing the survivor to sharply turn his head towards you.

In a flash of fear and panic you scrambled away from the window, the dark flashing eyes of the mysterious figure outside making you feel like you were dropped into a horror movie. A shard of glass embedded itself in your palm, breaking the skin and staining your carpet with crimson heat, but the pounding of your heart in your ears was drowning out every other sensation. Seconds ticked by as you huddled against the wall and out of the dull moonlight that shone through the window. You could feel the blood drip down your palm, but the terror you felt kept you from moving. It didn’t take long for any inkling of courage to get snuffed out as you tried to access what you just saw, a multitude of far-fetched scenarios making their way through your head.

You were contemplating if everything you just saw was a figment of your imagination when a loud knock echoed through your apartment. The thuds caused you to shriek in fear, heart pounding in unadulterated panic. The knocking quickly grew impatient, practically pounding through the thin door to the rhythm of your rapid heart.

Call it what you want—stupidity, curiosity, or a complete lapse in judgment—but the knocking grew in volume and you rose to your feet with trepidation seeping into your bones. The shuffling of your slippers on the dingy carpet was drowned out by the incessant pounding as you made your way to your front door.

Taking a deep breath once you stood in front of the door that seemed to be buckling right before your eyes, you gripped the knob with an uncharacteristic strength. Cradling your injured hand to your chest in apprehension—half to prepare yourself for the worst, and half to dull the pain that was starting to steep into your consciousness—you threw open the door not knowing what to expect on the other side.

It was definitely stupidity that took over at that point.

There stood a man, still shrouded by darkness but an inner light seemed to shine through his skin showing his handsome features and tattered clothes. Deep, glowing green eyes stared at you in what looked like pain and fear—two emotions you weren’t expecting to see. Another thing you weren’t expecting was the obvious iron scent of blood and the way it overpowered your nose. You thought you would open the door to see a supernatural murder ready to snuff the life out of your small body, not a handsome stranger with a pained grimace on his perfect features.

He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a pained groan before he collapsed in the threshold, his body meeting the ground in a harsh thud. He was half in and half f your small apartment, the blood seeping out of a clear bullet wound and onto the carpet. You were frozen in shock, mouth agape as you tried to fathom what you were seeing. A half-dead handsome stranger had just collapsed in front of you after building a wall of stone and killing three people who were firing guns at him—one of which seem to meet its mark. You were delusional and seeing things, not fully awake to truly contemplate what was happening. At least you felt delusional until the stranger let out a deep groan that shook the entire foundation of your building. The walls and floor shook like an earthquake was rolling through the city, knocking over the meager bouquet of flowers on your kitchen counter and shattering the vase. Wall dressings would have been knocked down if you had any, but the ripple of the floor beneath your feet resurged your fear coating you from head to toe.

As quickly as the tremors started they ended, leaving you vibrating in panic.

What the fuck just happened?

-x-

“Could I borrow this?” He asked, picking up your phone with a gentleness that looks uncharacteristic in his large hands.

“Uh, sure.” Turning back to your cooking you ignored the clicks on the screen as you stirred the chicken and vegetables in the searing pan. You and Jaebeom—JB as he preferred to be called—had slipped into a casual comradery ever since he fell through your door bleeding and alone. You dragged him in, spreading blood across your carpet as you tried to fell him onto your couch. Ever since that night when you gave him a rudimentary patch up job for his bullet wound you both felt a weird sense of attachment.

He was attached to you because you were the one who saved his life, and you were attached to him. After all, he was a colorful glimmer in your monochromatic world. This link made you both feel funny—neither willing to give the other up despite his secrecy and your relationship. He was essentially the best roommate you’d ever had and you were his personal guardian angel.

He hadn’t fully explained to you his genealogy or where his powers came from, but you also didn’t pressure him to explain the rock wall you saw that night. JB explained that he and his six brothers were descendants of a very old, magical race and you saw that as all the information you needed.

“Plausible deniability,” you said, a small smile coming to your face that both endeared and confused him.

Everything since that day was shared. Your couch had become his new home, while your fridge was now doubly full since you were feeding two people. It put a strain on your finances, but you picked up extra weekend shifts to make up for it. Your days were spent at the University or work in order to earn the extra income needed to feed the strange yet beautiful man living in your apartment. In addition your IUMA textbooks became a good escape for him to dive into, learning both English and Economics when you weren’t using them to study.

You both stayed out of each other’s way, showing infinite gratitude for the ease that came with living with him, but at the same time, you couldn’t imagine your small apartment without him anymore.

Once your simple dinner was ready and plated you joined JB on the couch, watching him silently as he scrolled through the internet on your phone. His jaw was ticked and you could see his tongue poking his cheek, wholly engrossed in what was on the screen.

“Ya know,” you said with a chuckle as you set down your half-eaten meal onto the coffee table, “If you’re not hungry I can always save it for later?”

That snapped him out of the screen, and he looked at you with a sheepish smile. He didn’t relinquish his hold on your phone, but he used his free hand to shovel the food into his mouth. You both ate in companionable silence, not having to say much but enjoying it nonetheless. When you were both done you took the plates and washed them for later use, choosing to return to the couch next to him to read when they were properly put away.

You were maybe four pages in before JB jolted next to you, practically causing you to drop your book in sudden fright as he quickly leaned in close and held your phone in your face. “Have you ever heard of white and black cities?” He asked eagerly, like a child asking their parent for a cookie.

“Uhhhhh,” you said squinting at the small font of the screen. Quickly scanning over the words to garner what he was all excited over. “I mean they seem pretty straight forward.”

“Exactly!” He whooped completely leaning into you closer with every passing second. The close proximity that you were used to was welcomed, but this was something entirely new. With your bodies pressed so close JB was pretty much laying on top of you causing your breath to catch and your heart to stutter. Butterflies began to take flight in your stomach as his torso touched yours and you felt like you couldn’t move. “They are cities of magic! Each city is either made up of light magic or dark magic, and they attract beings of both types to them!” His zealous rambling was accompanied by a shine in his eyes that made them glossy with emotions.

He looked at you, bringing his face within a hairsbreadth of yours. Your heart was pounding at how close he was and a small part of you realized that you only had to move of couple centimeters to close the distance and—no. You shook the thoughts out of your head before they could form, reprimanding yourself at the dangerous thought.

“W-what does that mean?” You asked, hating how you stuttered just from being this close to JB.

His mouth stretched into a dazzling smile, showing all of his perfect teeth and causing his eyes to turn into little smiles themselves. “It means I know where my brothers are!” JB was so excited that you don’t think he fully thought out his next move, but in his reverie he completely crashed into you. Winding his arms around your body he pulled you into a tight hug that had him invading all your senses.

His strong arms held you against his chest, and the fluttering in your stomach increased ten-fold. It felt natural to be in this position with him and it didn’t take much for your own arms to wind around his waist. You could feel his deep chuckle reverb through his chest and you couldn’t help but bury your head into his neck at the vibrations. The hug felt different from that of your boyfriend—you felt like you belonged there like your bodies were two puzzle pieces who had just clicked together. The thought made you both nervous and content at the same time.

“I’m happy for you Jaebeom,” you whispered into his neck, silently wishing that he would never let go and that this moment in his arms would last forever.

-x-

It may have just looked like a simple hug on the outside, but on the inside you were raging. Emotions that had you feeling like stupid schoolgirl boiled to the surface every time you simply looked at JB. And considering he was your impromptu roommate those emotions were often clouding your consciousness. You toss and turned that night coming to two conclusions: One, JB would eventually leave you so you needed to quash anything you felt for him. This meant that for the last two weeks you had limited your time at home to the bare minimum. You only came back late at night, to cook dinner for you two and immediately retired once the dishes were clean. You blamed your crazy boss for maximizing your work schedule, but in reality you asked for every shift available. You were at the point of collapse, but you held fast to the idea that you could breakdown after JB left. He had taken notice of your lack of interactions, and whenever you would reject any invitation to spend time with him his soul ached more and more. He missed your presence and he wished you would stop flitting around like a ghost he couldn’t grasp. JB’s chest constricted when he saw you and everything you did to avoid him hurt more than he knew it should.

The second conclusion was that you had to end things with your boyfriend. You were adamant about not staying with him if your emotions weren’t in it, and since JB came into your life you knew that your heart no longer beats for him. He took it relatively well and it ended quickly much to your relief. There was no animosity so you were easily able to put a checkmark next to that task.

One epiphany down, another left to deal with.

You thought you were doing well at quelling the hormones raging through you, but every synapse in your brain fired off one night when you returned home later than usual. There was a faint smell of food in the air as you unlocked the door. Peaking in, JB was nowhere to be seen which had you on edge the moment you stepped through the threshold. The apartment was silent and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up at the stillness. Creeping in you made your way to your bedroom door in a quick effort to once more limit any contact with JB.

You didn’t go far.

Eyeing the neat couch suspiciously, you didn’t notice JB silently come out of the bathroom in the hallway. You didn’t notice his bare chest until you ran into it with a small oof. Blinking in a daze, the first thing you saw was JB’s perfectly sculpted chest that was slick with water. Blinking in a daze you followed the flawless skin up and up until you were looking at his face, the distance practically nonexistent between you two.

JB was about to lose it. Your big eyes were looking at him with both innocence and fear, and he swore he could see constellations in their depths. He could vividly see every crevice and pore on your beautiful face and he savored the sight to recall later. Your dark skin was taunting him with how it seemed to glow from the inside calling him forward like a siren on the sea. If he leaned down a couple of centimeters he could claim your lips as his, and it took all his willpower to not do so without your permission.

He tested the waters, hoping to possibly move forward in some way from the awkward dichotomy between you two for the last couple of weeks. His hand reached up to cup your cheek gently, soft and delicate in his touch that felt featherlight against your heated face. The contrasting colors of your skins were so enticing to him, like day and night in the world’s foremost paradise. To him it seemed to work naturally and easily he was just hoping that you felt the same in some way.

His touch felt right. Your mind was reeling, but your heart was thrumming a rhythm that sang a song only you could hear. It told you that this was meant to happen and it was perfect. It told you everything was fine and for once in your life it was okay to not act rationally.

So in response to your singing heart you turned your head to nuzzle JBs warm palm.

He took this as an affirmation, either foolishly or not, and swiftly leaned down to connect your lips. Stealing all the air in your lungs, the forceful kiss caused you to squeak in surprise but you began to kiss him back within seconds. When he felt you reciprocating his body felt like it was floating. He’d wanted to kiss you for a couple of days now, coming to terms with his feelings for you when he began to feel the sting of distance as you avoided him. JB realized that he was falling for you when he realized he was losing you and this moment right here affirmed everything he felt in his tortured soul.

He knew he wasn’t good for you and that his life was constantly covered with a dark cloud of danger, but for one singular moment he let reality slip away. His arms wound around your waist, drawing you deeper into his naked chest. You hummed in contentment at the feel of his skin and you couldn’t help but brush your hands all over his upper body in appreciation. The air went from tentative to fiery in a matter of seconds as all of the unresolved emotions and thoughts from the last two weeks bubbled to the surface.

Pent up and frustrated after spending days walking on eggshells around each other, you and JB moved in sync to your bedroom in an effort to spend the night exploring these emotions swirling between you two. For the night JB was able to forget everything that plagued him day in and day out, whispering affirmations into your naked skin that no matter what happened to him you would now be the center of his entire world.

JB was a rock that was now floating happily within your orbit.

A/N: JB’s is done! I kept rewriting this, trying to figure out what worked. But I felt like this one was a good way to show the extent of their powers and explain why each city was chosen for each member. Every city in each installment is a “magical” city of either Black or White magic. 

[whats-a-time-for-greatness]

Building a Happy Life: 10 Key Ingredients

If you ask the majority of people what their number one goal in life is, it would probably sound something like: to live a happy and productive life where I feel like I make a difference in other people's lives. Many of us are productive in our lives and we do make a difference in others lives, yet the key ingredient - happiness - seems to be missing. The following tips will help build more happiness into your life:

1) Find something to be passionate about. What drives you? What motivates you? What gives you meaning and purpose in life? If you want happiness in life you need to be able to answer these questions. Without meaning; purpose; something to be passionate about- life can become stale and boring. A stale loaf of white bread probably isn't going to make most people too happy.

2) Simplify your life. De-clutter your house and your life. If possible, take a week off from work and go through every single room in your home. Set aside bins or bags marked throw away and give away. Get rid of things that you don't use anymore or haven't worn in the past 12 months. If you have projects that you haven't completed make sure to either dispose of those projects or finish them up while you are off from work. If you can't take time off from work, set aside time each evening or weekend to go through each room.

3) Set goals that you would like to achieve. Having a goal and achieving it brings about a sense of accomplishment. Often, the sense of accomplishment or pride in a job well done brings about a certain amount of happiness in life. When we live our life without goals, we often get lost and life starts to feel bad. We get stuck and start to feel miserable and helpless. Having a purpose, a set or progression of goals helps keep us on track in life.

4) Start some traditions in your life. What made you happy as a kid? Can you build that in to your life now? When I was a kid, I loved the holidays. My mom had a ton of cookie cutters that we would pull out for each holiday season. We would make Halloween cookies, Thanksgiving cookies, Christmas cookies, Valentine cookies, you get the idea. It was a fun tradition. It is something that I do with my daughter now. It's bonding time and a chance to just be happy in the moment of baking and decorating cookies. You don't have to wait and have kids or a family to build traditions. You can plan a yearly trip with your pals to go hiking, site-seeing, or shopping. It's just something that you do each year where you can kick back and have some fun in your life.

5) Along with setting up traditions, it's important to connect with others. If all you do is work, and come home and watch television- life is going to get pretty boring pretty quickly. If you are an introvert and new to the area you live, find a non-profit that you can do some volunteer work for. If you are more social, skim the local weekly newspaper for clubs that meet. I live in the suburbs of a major city. There is every single kind of club imaginable for people to join. When I lived in a smaller area there were still ways to connect- joining a fitness group, or gym, going to a community recreation center for an art classes- there are lots of places to connect with people. All you have to do is look.

6) Do not compare yourself to your neighbor (or anyone else for that matter). Accept yourself for your uniqueness and celebrate your individuality. There are certain things in your life that you will never be able to change so stop trying. On top of that, you never really know what is going on in your neighbor's or friend's home/life. For example, you may envy how thin and fit your friend is, yet don't know that she has been struggling for years with bulimia and poor self-esteem. Or the nicest house in your neighborhood is filled with the anger and hate tied up in an ugly divorce process.

7) Be responsible for yourself. Stop waiting for the perfect mate, the perfect job, the perfect set of friends to fill your life with meaning. No one else can make you "whole" or fill your life with "meaning." Only you can do that. If you want a happy life, figure out what happiness means for you and take the steps to start building that in to your life.

8) Get enough rest. It is hard for anyone to be happy when they are walking around sleep deprived all of the time. Good quality sleep is important to our overall health. We need it to make sound decisions and to move effectively throughout our day.

9) Eat right. Along with getting quality rest, it is important to eat a healthy diet. Too much sugar and caffeine can create not only a physical crash but an emotional one too.

10) Choose to be happy. You aren't going to be happy in life if you don't decide to be. Happiness isn't going to just descend upon you 24/7. It requires making conscientious choices in your life. Just letting life happen isn't going to result in the maximum amount of happiness that you can have.