#local 2700

[scrapheapchallenge]

Ok, so this is not good news. TL;DR, I need help fundraising for a new wheelchair. Please share even if you can't donate.

So they say if you look after it and service it regularly (which I do, and the service agents always compliment me on how well looked after StarBug is), that a powerchair should last up to 5 years. Well StarBug has lasted over 6 years now, and given me SO much freedom (it's called a "Freedomchair A08L" and the name is extremely apt.)

But sadly, it's now exceeded that lifespan, and has an irrepairable crack in the frame, and trust me, I have spent the past month trying every avenue possible to get it sorted one way or another, but the service agents are adamant that it's a write-off. I also know, due to its age, that the insurers, if they pay out, won't give me anywhere near enough to cover a replacement, and the replacement MUST be new (full explanation in fundraiser link if you need to know specifics of why).

I have found a local welding specialist who is going to take a look and see if they can try a temporary patch repair to tide me over until I can fundraise for the replacement, and I'm hoping that it works, but even if they can fix it, it's not a permanent repair and StarBug DOES need replacing now.

The good news is, that while Starbug cost about £3,000 new, the *upgraded* version I need - the DE08L, is only £2,700. Also, my existing batteries will fit it, so I can expand my range without needing to pay another £300 per battery to do so. In addition, 99% of the parts from the A08L can be used as spares for the DE08L, so I can keep StarBug as a backup or spares frame for emergencies in the future if needed.

Please, if you can spare even £1 or $1, I'd be very grateful, but even if you can't, could you please share the fundraiser for me to help get the ball rolling?

Please don't suggest other wheelchairs, there's a reason why I need a new DE08L model and not an alternative or second hand. NHS and motability are not any help in this case. Full explanation is in the fundraiser page.

(image shows the crack in StarBug's frame, which I'm hoping can get a temporary repair to tide me over until I can raise enough funds for a replacement, but its already exceeded its expected working lifespan anwyay, and DOES need replacing.)

[ariaste]

My god, IWTV fandom has some of the worst comments-to-hits ratios on fics I've ever seen. I've got two chapters of this fic I posted, 1600 hits, and 52 comments. In other words, only 3% of readers left a comment, and that's with me being a DAMN good writer. I just looked up the most kudos'd fic in the whole fandom, and this poor fucking writer has ~27,000 hits, ~2700 kudos (10% kudos-to-hits is a normal and expected standard for a Good Fic) but 80 comments. 0.3% of readers left a comment. The second most-kudos'd fic is an outlier with 50 chapters, so we're setting that one aside, but number three has 15k hits and 112 comments, which is 0.7%. wtf wtf wtf. My 3% is considered doing really well? WTF WTF WTF.

(For a control group so that we all have a sense of perspective, let's compare this to my most recent fic in the Nine Worlds fandom, which has ~2800 hits and 237 comments (8.5%), or one of my most popular fics in the Untamed fandom, which has ~63,000 hits and 1082 comments (just shy of 7%).)

Now here's the thing. I'm confident enough in my abilities as a writer to brush this off and go about my day, but not everyone is. A LOT of people out there are writing fics because they want to connect with other fans and share something they love, so posting a fic and getting near-total radio silence can feel really disheartening. If you liked the fic enough to leave kudos, take two extra seconds to comment. It doesn't have to be complicated or long! Even just "Loved this, so fun!" or "Kudos!" or "Thanks for sharing!" is GREAT.

Commenting on fics is part of a healthy fandom ecosystem. Fic authors who get a lot of positive comments are very often encouraged and energized to write more of that thing you like. You are directly contributing to your own happiness by commenting.

And listen, I hear people worrying that it's going to be annoying or bad if they leave impersonal "bland" comments, so let me preempt that: No, it is not annoying. I once had someone leave the same boilerplate comment ("Thanks for writing, I really liked this" or something along those lines) on every chapter of a fic that she binged in one sitting so I saw them all in a row. My reaction was, "Oh yay, I'm so glad she liked it <3 And how kind of her to comment on every chapter!!!"

We have a GREAT show -- IWTV fans Never Stop Winning, right? ...Except when it comes to fic comments. So just consider being the change you wish to see in the world, ok? Two extra seconds of your day to feed and water your local fic authors and to carry that "we never stop winning" and "oh we are SO back" energy through the hiatus until s3. <3

[bingwriterxo]

childhood friends

pairing: vada cavell x reader

summary: in which you and vada grow up together, and here are some snippets

warnings: parents fighting, persistent man

word count: 2700+

You were seven when Vada pushed her way into your life unexpectedly. 

Your mother had taken you to the local playground, sick and tired of having you bouncing off the walls inside the house, and you immediately ran toward the swing set, intent on getting higher than you ever had before. You were settling into one of the seats, fingers gripping the metal chains, when you felt hands on your back and you were suddenly flying forward from the small shove, landing on the wood chips below that cut into your knees. 

"Hey!" you cried, twisted around where you had fallen and staring up at the girl who had pushed you. She was short and didn't look like she should've been strong enough to have shoved you, but she was sticking her tongue out at you, so you knew it was her. "What was that for?"

"Just 'cause," she said before slipping into the swing that you had been sitting on. She started pumping her legs a bit, but she wasn't getting much air.

You scrambled to stand, afraid of getting hit by one of her feet and angry at the fact that she had stolen your rightful place, and brushed yourself off. To combat both of these feelings, you walked up to her, placed your hands on your shoulders, and pushed her backwards, smiling when she thudded on the ground and let out an, "Oof!"

"What was that all about?" she asked you from the ground.

"You did it to me first!" you argued, pointing at her with narrowed eyes. 

She huffed and stood, not bothering to wipe away the stray wood chips on her t-shirt. From that close, you could see the array of freckles that decorated her face, and, for a fleeting moment, thought that they looked just like stars in the night sky. But then your anger came rushing back to you and you shook away your thoughts, staring at her with furrowed eyebrows.

"It's not nice to push people off swings," you said. "Mama told me that."

"But you just did!" 

"Mama also told me that fair's fair," you huffed.

She crossed her arms over her chest and regarded you for a moment with a frown. Then, her gaze softened and she sighed. "Fine. Whatever."

You weren't really sure what to do then as you stood in front of the girl, who stared back at you. It seemed like she didn't know what to do either. You thought for a moment and then let out a resigned sigh.

"Why don't we take turns," you suggested, "since all of the other swings are taken."

She glanced around quickly and then nodded. "Okay, but I want to go first."

You rolled your eyes as best as you could. "Fine."

She grinned and climbed onto the swing, twisting around to look at you. "Could you push me? I can never get very high," she said. 

You grumbled but did it anyway. She still didn't get very high, but she was giggling and laughing, so you figured you were doing a pretty good job. When it was your turn, she very un-elegantly clambered off the swing and stood to the side, watching as you pumped your legs until you had a steady rhythm.

"How do you do that so well?" she asked.

"I dunno, just do," you said.

She huffed, and then when you decided you had had enough, you dragged your shoe into the wood chips, slowing yourself down. You stayed sitting and looked to the girl. 

"What's your name, anyway?" you asked. "So I can tell my mom who made my knees all icky." You pointed down to the scrapes you had, and the girl's eyes followed.

"Oh," she said. "Sorry."

"'S okay," you said. "You didn't answer my question."

She blinked back at you, and then said, "My name's Vada."

"That's a funny name," came your immediate response, and suddenly her hands were on your shoulders and you were laying on your back in the wood chips, staring up at the sky. Your view was blocked as the girl's head hovered above you, her hair hanging down like a dark curtain. 

"That wasn't nice," she told you.

"Okay," you said, sitting up. "Sorry."

"'S okay," she mimicked, and you could tell she had never said that phrase in that way before because she stuttered over the words. "What's your name?"

"Y/N."

She nodded. "Okay. Wanna play tag?"

You nodded right back. "Sure."

* * *

You were eleven when you showed up at Vada's house in the middle of the night.

Your parents had been fighting in the kitchen, their voices carrying throughout the small house and into your bedroom, where you had been laying in your bed with the covers pulled over your head to block out the sound. When that didn't work, and their argument only seemed to get louder, you slipped out from beneath your blanket and shuffled to your closet, pulling a sweatshirt off its hanger and sliding into a pair of sneakers. You had propped open your window, snuck out of it, and ran the full way to Vada's house, which luckily was only a couple streets away. 

When you arrived, you knocked softly on Vada's bedroom window, hoping that she was awake. In just a few seconds, her curtains were being pulled aside and her face appeared, darkness shrouding her, but she was visible from the street lamp that shed light into her bedroom. She popped the window open.

"What're you doing here?" she asked quietly. 

You glanced down at your feet, which were digging into the dirt, and said, "My parents are fighting."

She sighed. "Again?" You nodded, and she said, "Okay, get in here." 

You were quick as you climbed through her window, careful not to mess up her display of Lego sets as you did. When you were fully inside, you kicked your shoes off and looked up at the brunette, who was watching you with sad eyes. 

"Are you okay?" she asked, and even though there was that strange ache in your chest that only ever appeared when your parents fought, you nodded. "Okay. What now?"

"I dunno," you said with a shrug. "You got your mom's old laptop for your birthday, right?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Why?"

"We should watch a movie or something."

"Oh, good idea!" Vada took you by the hand and led you to her bed, letting you get in it first before she followed. She grabbed the laptop from her nightstand and set it on her lap, turning it on. 

You watched the loading screen for a moment before sinking further into the mattress and leaning your head on Vada's shoulder, stomach stirring a little at the warmth that she gave off. You felt her tense beneath you for just a second before she relaxed, but you didn't mention it. Instead, you asked, "What movie are we going to watch?"

"I'm not sure yet. There's a few I've been wanting to see. Like..." The girl rambled on and on about the movies she hadn't seen yet, even when the computer was fully booted up and ready to go, and you simply listened, slowly being lulled to sleep by her voice. You barely registered the fact that she had stopped until she asked, "Are you sure you're okay?"

You hummed sleepily. "Yeah, Vads." You both ignored the nickname that slipped out. 

"You don't have to be okay, you know that, right?" You could feel her shift beneath you as she got more comfortable. "And you can always talk to me, okay?"

"Okay, Vada," you said. "Thank you."

* * * 

You were fourteen when you realized you had feelings for Vada.

You woke up one morning to the sight of Vada in your bed, who was still asleep with her mouth slightly open and hair splayed out against your pillow, and that familiar stirring started in your stomach that you quickly recognized as butterflies, and your cheeks heated up and you thought, Oh fuck. 

You tried to scramble out of your bed as fast as you possibly could, but your foot got caught in your sheet and you ended up falling to the ground with a heavy thud, waking the brunette in your bed. She sat up, confused both from the noise and the fact that you weren't anywhere in sight, until she noticed the sheet pulled taut in the corner of the bed.

"Are you--Did you fall out of your bed?" she asked as she peeked her head to look at you. She laughed at the sight of you on the floor, holding onto your elbow which had hit the wood harder than the rest of you. 

"Kind of..." you said, staring up at her with teary eyes. She just laughed harder, and you blushed but found yourself giggling along with her.

"How the fuck did you fall out of your bed?" she asked when she had calmed down enough to form real words. 

You stood on wobbly legs and trained your gaze on literally anything other than the brunette. "I don't know. I just...did?" 

She rolled her eyes softly and smiled. The butterflies fluttered harder in your stomach. "You're, like, the clumsiest person I know."

You scoffed. "Says you!"

Vada pulled herself up onto her knees and waddled toward you. "Let's not be rude, now."

"Vads, you literally tripped over your own foot yesterday and face planted into the asphalt," you said, which the brunette didn't need to be reminded of because she still had the bruised nose to prove it. 

"Shut up!" she whined, throwing herself at you. She wrapped her arms around your neck and flopped backward, pulling you down onto the mattress with her. You threw your hands out so that you wouldn't land fully on top of her, and then gulped at the compromising position you found yourself in. 

You, hovering above Vada, who was grinning widely beneath you. You held your breath as you watched her eyes flicker between your own eyes and your lips, and when she started to lean up, you pushed away.

"My mom's making waffles," you said quickly. "In the kitchen. I can smell them."

You watched as she pouted a bit before sitting up, raising her arms above her head to stretch. You swallowed hard at the slight skin that showed on her stomach before it was covered by her t-shirt again. She scratched at the top of her head as she said, "Okay. Let's go then."

You followed behind her slowly, eyes trained on your feet, and tried not to think about the fact that Vada was leaning in to kiss you just a minute prior. 

* * *

You were sixteen when Vada kissed you for the first time. 

Mia Reed was throwing a party, and people were swarming her house as soon as the door was officially declared open. You and Vada were no exception as the brunette begged you to go, saying that you owed her. For what, you weren't exactly sure, but you said yes as soon as Vada gave you the puppy-dog eyes. 

The two of you were standing in the kitchen, plastic solo cups in hand filled with whatever-the-hell liquor Mia had sitting on the counter, and simply talking--or shouting, because of the music that was booming throughout the house. 

"I'm gonna zip to the bathroom really fast," Vada told you at some point, and you nodded, telling her you'd be fine on your own for two minutes. She narrowed her eyes at you like she didn't believe you, but you giggled and shoved her shoulder.

Almost as soon as you were alone, a new body slotted into the place that was once Vada's. You glanced up, grimacing a bit as you realized it was Jack, one of the players on the football team. He was offering you a sly grin that you were sure was charming to other girls.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted, and you could smell the beer on his breath. You crinkled your nose but still responded, because who were you if not polite.

"Hi, Jack," you said, giving him your own tiny smile. He lit up at the sight of it, taking it as a sign to get even closer to you. 

"You know, I've always though you were gorgeous," he claimed. It made you want to throw up.

"Oh." You chuckled awkwardly. "Thanks, I guess."

He nodded. "Sure." He took a sip from the can in his hand and then looked back down at you. "A few of my buddies and I are gonna go back to my place after this. You should come," he offered. You didn't miss the way his eyes ran down your body, lingering a little too long on your chest. 

You shook your head. "Sorry, but I have other plans." You didn't, not really, although you were almost sure Vada would end up dragging you to her house to watch movies, and there was no way in hell you were missing out on that, especially for some jock you weren't even remotely attracted to. 

"Oh, come on. It'll be fun." He pushed into you a bit more, and you tried to back up, but you were cornered. "And, maybe you and I could...spend a little time alone or something."

"I'm okay." You flashed him your best smile and then tried to scoot past him, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him.

He smiled, sort of, but it looked like more of a snarl to you. "I'll try this again. You and me, after this party."

"Jack, I said--"

"I'm pretty sure she said no, dude," a familiar voice said from behind Jack. You glanced past him to see Vada standing there, her eyebrows furrowed and a frown pulling at her lips. Your heartbeat quickened at the sight.

Jack twisted to stare at the brunette. "Whatever, Cavell. Get out of here." He turned back to you. "Now, as I was saying--"

He was interrupted by Vada, again. "Leave her alone, Cofferey," she scoffed. 

"Bro, back the fuck off--" Jack began as he turned around fully to snap at her, but he was cut off by her fist against his cheek. 

"Oh, fuck!" Vada cried, shaking her hand out. "That hurt a lot more than it looks like it does in movies!" 

You quickly moved past Jack  and wrapped your hand around Vada's waist, dragging her away from the kitchen before the boy could recover and beat her up. You pulled her into a random bedroom and slammed the door shut behind you, locking it just in case he decided to follow, though by the lack of pounding against the wood, you guessed that he was far too drunk to bother. 

"Are you okay?" you both asked at the same time. Vada chuckled a bit before saying, "I'm fine, although I think I bruised my hand." She glanced at her knuckles and opened her hand a bit. "Eh, whatever." She looked up at you. "Are you okay?"

You sighed. "Yeah. I'm fine."

She tilted her head. "Y/N..."

"Don't worry, Vads. Really, I'm fine." You walked toward her and took her injured hand in your own, inspecting it. "Yeah, you're definitely gonna bruise," you laughed.

"Well, I'll have a cool story to tell my mom, then," she joked.

You looked at her and smiled. "Thanks, for doing that. You didn't have to."

She shrugged. "He was bothering you. What was I supposed to do? Just watch it happen? No, that's dumb."

"Yeah, but still. Your hand's gonna hurt for a while."

"It was worth it."

"Was it?" You chuckled. "I don't know about th--"

Before you could even finish your thought, Vada's lips were pressed against your own. You were taken by surprise, not kissing back for a moment, and the brunette pulled away quickly, panic in her eyes.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked. "I should've asked. That was stupid. And you probably don't even want to kiss me 'cause, you know, we're best friends. And, oh god, that was so dumb! I'm sorry. I wasn't even thinking! You just look so pretty all worried and I just--"

This time it was your turn to shut her up. You cut off her rambling by pulling her in by the waist and kissing her softly, giving her a moment to catch up with what was happening. She immediately relaxed against you, lips moving against your own eagerly. 

You pulled away with a laugh when she tried to deepen it, and her eyes fluttered open softly. "At least I know how to shut you up now," you giggled.

She gasped. "That is so rude!"

You rolled your eyes, pulling her close again. "Oh, shush, Vads." 

[liverspaghett]

Loser Trapped in A Hot Body

Jooyeon x fem reader

Super late birthday special for Joo

W/c: roughly 2700

Warnings: degrading (m rec), sub Jooyeon, Joo is needy whiny and sensitive , begging, not proofread

tags: @sol3chu @joosbasschick

Today was the day you'd waited several months for. Today your favorite band will be playing at your local bar. You adored their music and hoped that they could become popular, but you're glad they aren't as of now so seeing them wasn't nearly that expensive.

A small fan base doesn't mean a less crazy one though. The fans were known for being particularly blunt and would share anything with you, be it you wanted to hear or not. They were renowned to be fairly horny people. Can you blame them though? I mean the group was hot. Especially the bassist. The band didn't name their fan base, the fans did it themselves. They call themselves sluts. You want to say you're embarrassed to call yourself a slut, but really you're not, it's hilarious.

You get dressed in a cute and revealing outfit. You look ready to go “whoring about” as your friend would say. She means it lightheartedly as you two joke that way often. You fix your hair and makeup. Your smudgy eyeliner and shaggy hair suit the look perfectly. You put in your septum ring and step back to look at yourself. After a moment of thinking, you decide on some chunky black sneakers.

Your friend looks at you approvingly. She would be going with you. She was already dressed and ready. You were both ready to leave now. You excitedly grab your bag and get in the car, driving to the bar. The sun is on the verge of setting when you head inside.

The bar is lively with people all about. Music blasts and lights dance in the dark room. Your body betrays your mind's appeal to appear calm and confident. You turn around, moving your body to the music. You feel intoxicated without having even drunk anything. Your friend smiles, but is too shy to join in. The song ends and the lights dim. You turn around and you're facing a stage, now set with instruments and six familiar and very sexy guys.

The lights adjust, one shines directly on the bassist, Jooyeon, and he's sporting a new look. Crazy black hair and dramatic eyeliner. His torn black and white sweater over his black pants and chunky black boots. All of it is tied together with his chunky silver accessories and black lipstick. You were intrigued by his new darker than usual look. You adored it. He was still getting ready when he glanced over, accidentally locking eyes with you. His eyes traveled slowly down your body. He took every part of you into his eyes. You glared back at him. You looked aggressive, and he was into that.

Another member of the band, Gaon, hit him on the shoulder, bringing him back from his trance. He made some joke that you couldn't hear, but Jooyeon laughed so it must've been funny. If he says something is, that's how it'll be. He at least had that effect on you. The sound of the boys’ amps turning on directs all of the attention to them. They look confident and excited to play. Those of us in the crowd who are fans cheer. Gunil counts off their first song and they start playing.

Jooyeon can't help but steal a glance at you every now and then. He plays effortlessly though he's only half-minded right now. All of his thoughts are on you, putting his hands on autopilot to play. He doesn't even realize he's been straight up staring at you until the song ends, ringing him conscious again.

They play for another hour and Jooyeon simply observes you while he plays. He watches as you dance, you look so loose and comfortable, like you're genuinely enjoying yourself. He smiles. Just then you turn around to look at him. Your eyes lock and Jooyeon feels his heart skip a beat. He looks down, pretending to focus on his guitar. When the last song ends, he puts his bass back on the stand, his face is glistening with sweat and his furrowed brows add a tinge of spice to his look.

The band disperses into the crowd, enjoying themselves now that the regular music has begun playing again. When you feel a gap on your shoulder, you least expect it to be Jooyeon, eyeing you down with a smirk.

“Mind if I buy you a drink, beautiful?” He places his hand on your shoulder, trying not to infringe on your personal space too much. You blush at his boldness. Was he really asking you of all the people here for a drink?

“Sure,” you try to keep your cool, replying as nonchalantly as you can. He strikes up conversation as you make your way over to the bar.

“I’m Jooyeon,” he says, introducing himself with a sheepish smile.

“I know,” “You reply confidently. Jooyeon blushes. His heart swells with excitement at being recognized.

“You know me? You know the band?” He looks to you with shimmering eyes that contrast to his dark look.

“Yeah, I love your music,”

“Well, enough about me then, what’s your name?” He puts his best attempt forward to look and act cool. Meeting a fan wasn’t something he’d planned on.

“I’m y/n.” You answer. He nods, liking the sound of your name. You take a seat on the barstool and Jooyeon finds himself in the one beside you. You boh sit facing each other, intrigued in conversation. A couple drinks in and you don’t hear a thing coming from his mouth. He just keeps yapping nonsense, but you look at him intently, though your mind is distant.

You're in a haze of thoughts and scenarios. You can’t seem to scratch the thought of kissing him. His black lipstick stood out in contrast to his pearly white teeth when he smiled. He stopped talking for a moment, realizing you were only half-present. He smirks and brushes your hair out of your face, bringing you back to reality.

“What's on your mind?” He asks. You blush, realizing he probably picked up on your thoughts. He had caught you staring at his lips.

“Oh uh, nothing” your lies become poor as the alcohol sets in. Not even the drunkest guy in here would buy it.

“Oh come on, I saw you looking,” Jooyeon teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well it's your own fault. Who said you could come out here looking so hot?” Your filters wither away, allowing you to spew out your thoughts without hesitation. He finds it more than amusing. It's equally arousing.

The things between then and now are blank in your mind, and it's probably for the better. You have Jooyeon pinned to the wall on the narrow hallway that leads to bathrooms and employee entrances. His lips are parted, gasping for air while you aren't kissing him like some rabid animal. Lipstick is smeared all over his face and his eyes are glossy with desire. You can almost hear his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to burst from the adrenaline that courses through his veins. He's dizzy from all the blood in his system flooding his cock that begs to be released from his tight leather pants. He moans into your kiss, taking everything you offer him with pleasure, but he needs more.

“Can we… go to your place?” His words barely cohesive under his breathy panting.

“Yeah, come on” you grab his wrist and drag him to your car. He gets in the passenger seat obligingly. You can see in tense demeanor that he’s really needy. A tent has long since formed in his pants. You reach over, placing your hand on his thigh, pulling his legs open and caressing his inner thigh with some force. You give it a squeeze and his legs threaten to close. He’s facing the ground. His face is deep red. He’s shy and can’t bring himself to look at you. Your hands move with confidence, slowly dragging up his thigh and grazing over his crotch. He gulps, a slight whimper escaping his throat at the contact.

You pull into your driveway, glad your friend had decided on going home tonight. Jooyeon follows you inside and you don't make it past the couch.His whines are even more beautiful than his singing voice.

"Please..." He sounds on the verge of tears. His eyes are sewn shut.

"It hurts" he says. His cock must be aching to get out. You help him stand up and unzip his pants agonizingly slow. His chest rises and falls quickly, his breath becoming increasingly restrained as you undress him. Jooyeon's had several one night stands before, but he's never been the sub. He appears to have unlocked a new part of him.

Your eyes are intense and your gaze is merciless as you take in the look of his exposed lanky frame. His cock stands straight up, pressed flush against his stomach. Precum smears his stomach and his tip is deep red from being so hard.

"You're so sensitive," you say in awe, his body reacts to everything, even the change in the air as you move.

"Been horny all day, can't take it anymore" he's whiny. Really, really whiny. He'll do anything if you just say the word.

You wrap your hand around his length and his legs threaten to give out. He's already on the verge of cumming and you've barely touched him. He was needy, whiny, and pathetic for you. He's never been dominated before but it was the switch up he didn't know he needed.

You help him sit down on the couch again and situate yourself beside him. You bring your hand back to his cock, stroking it excruciatingly slow. You take your sweet time with the poor boy. Tears well up in his eyes and you scoff at him, making him jump slightly.

"You're so pathetic Jooyeon" you laugh. It makes his cock throb in your hand. A gutteral moan escaping his throat. Your hand speeds up and his body shakes underneath you. You can feel him getting close, and just before he can cum, you pull away, leaving him disappointed.

"The fuck was that for?" He scolds. His eyes are still glossy, but he furrows his brows, trying to appear angry.

"I'm not letting you cum so fast now baby, gotta be patient" you remark, he sulks down, submitting to you.Your hand finds it's place stroking him again. He writes under your touch, urgent to cum. Before he reaches his climax again though, you're pulling away. He cries out in desperation.

"I'll let you cum if you get on your knees and beg for it" his eyes snap to look at you, caught completely off guard.

"Me? Beg? Not happening" Jooyeon scoffed. He wasn't about to get down and beg! That would be so humiliating. Though as the seconds ticked by and his cock throbbed, begging for attention, the idea started to intrigue him.

"Ok, you won't be cumming, but I still need to." You start peeling your clothes off of your body, revealing what's underneath. Jooyeon's face heats up in response. He's aching for attention.

"Fine," he sighs. You smirk, trying to hide your excitement.

"Fine what Joo?" Your voice is coated in a false sense of sweetness. He tries to avoid your gaze by looking down at your feet.

He picks himself up and lowers himself onto the floor. His cock is pressed against his stomach from the painful erection. He looks at you with pleading eyes.

"Please y/n" he sobs. Tears streaming down his face.

"Please- I can't take this anymore. Need you so bad" You smirk, pleased with his begging, and squat down to look him in the eye. His face is in the grip of your hand. Your fingers squish his cheeks, causing his lips to pout as he looks at you with fear and excitement.

"What was that pup?"

"Please! I need you!" He chokes on his tears and coughs out his pleads. His legs shake underneath him.

You push him back, causing him to fall. He leans back on his arms, peering up at you. He's enjoying the bullying. You straddle his lap, sticking his tip between your folds and running it back and forth.

Your arousal soaks his erection, you're riding him now, soaking his entire length without even putting it in. he's pushing his orgasm again, hoping you don't rip it away from him. Lewd sounds of your fluids and the smacking of your skin gets you both so turned on. His tip hits your clit with every move of your hips.

"'m so close" be sobs, whispering just loud enough to hear over his breathy pants. He fails to grab a fistful of the carpet beneath him leaving his fist clenched and empty. His knuckles are white from the tension. One more thrust from your hips and he's whining as cum spurts up his torso. The throbbing of his cock makes you see stars. You're on the verge of cumming as well, but you aren't done with him.

As you pull away, arousal mixed with precum and a bit of cum string between you two. You can feel it leak down the sides of your legs from the sheer amount. Jooyeon's torso is painted white and his face is beet red and tear stained. He shivers from the aftershocks of his orgasm. He didn't think he would enjoy being humiliated so much.

"I hope you aren't done yet, I haven't came" you say, sounding a little strict. Jooyeon looks at you, struck with fear and anticipation.

You grab his cock, positioning him to your entrance. It had ready begun to soften, but the moment his tip is between your warm, soaked walls, he's hard again. You lower down on him, giving yourself time to adjust to his size. Whimpers escape from his throat though he tries to choke them back. His tip kisses your cervix just as he bottoms out. He fits perfectly inside of you.

With one movement, you pick up and push him back in, starting to set a pace for your thrusts. This time, you properly ride him. The overstimulation has him writhing underneath you, begging for you to stop, but at the same time, he yearns for more.

You approach your orgasm again and you can feel he's close as well. You pull off of him, depriving him of his second orgasm, and take his hand, pressing it on your clit. He smiles and gladly starts rubbing circles on the nerve, causing you to jump. He takes his other hand, his pointer and middle finger, and press them inside of you. He almost cums from feeling you so wet around his fingers alone. His hips seek friction, jerking against his will. The sound of your wetness smacking from his fingers turns him on, he's as hard as when you began.

He curls his fingers inside you, your body reacts without permission. Your using his shoulders as support as he fingers you. Your hips roll into his skillful hands, making you appear desperate. You lock eyes intimately, and the magnetism between you two pulls you together. His kiss triggers your orgasm, your legs tense and your walls clench around him. You're breathing deep, sharp breaths into his mouth.

After you ride out your high, Jooyeon retreats his fingers that are now soaked in your essence. He runs his hand between your folds, collecting as much if your arousal as he can. His hand is soaked when he pulls away. You get off of his lap and see what he was doing.

He takes his cock in his hand. The same hand that cleaned you up in one swipe. He used your wetness to lubricate his hand and now he's getting off with it. He strokes vigorously, looking at your bare body.

When he reaches his second orgasm, coating himself in another load, he looks at you. He's completely spent. He reaches his arms out, expectant that you'll spoil him. You help help clean up and lead him to your bed, covering him up and laying beside him. You wrap your arms around him and he snuggles into you sweetly.

Normally, Jooyeon wouldve been gone by now, already back at the dorms. He's had plenty of hookups, but you were special. When you wake up, he's still between your arms. He smiles as he looks up to you, glad you're awake.

"Can I have your number?"

[st-eve-barnes]

You know that I'm no good (chapter 2)

(modern Aegon x Reader, modern Sihtric x Reader)

Summary: You want Sihtric. Aegon wants Skade. There's only one small problem: Sihtric and Skade are dating each other.

This chapter: Aegon tries to convince you to (fake) date him and the whole thing has an unexpected effect on you.

Warning for the entire series: 18+ for explicit language and smut. Angst/comfort/fluff. Fake dating and so much mutual pining. Mentions of depression/drinking/self harm.

This is an Aegon x Reader fic with a bit of Sihtric x Reader on the side. I've wanted to write a modern AU that combines The Last Kingdom and House of the dragon for a while now so here it is!

Thank you to everyone for the likes/comments and love for the first chapter, let's get this thing going ;)

Word count: +2700

Read chapter 1 Here

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

You were having breakfast in a local coffee shop a few days later. It was still pretty chilly outside for a July morning but you had insisted on sitting outside near the river anyway, wanting to catch the first rays of sunshine before starting work.

You took a long, satisfying sip from your caramel macchiato and then almost choked on it when someone suddenly slipped into the chair in front of you, startling you.

“Fuck,” your hand grabbed at your heart,”Aegon, what the hell?”

Aegon was looking at you with a little smirk on his lips before he sipped from his black coffee. His long hair was framing his face this morning, curly and messy as if he’d just gotten out of bed, which was probably the case. He kept his eyes on yours as he spoke,”Morning, my darling.”

His morning voice definitely betrayed he hadn’t been up for very long.

“I’m not your darling,” you smirked back at him.

“Ahh, but you could be,” he teased.

You shook your head firmly.”Um…no.”

He placed his coffee on the table and put his hands together, giving you his best puppy dog eyes,”Come on, why not? It wouldn’t even be real, just a way to get their attention.”

You sighed,”Because…It’ll never work.”

“We don’t know that if we don’t try.”

You stirred in your coffee while you looked at him but kept shaking your head.

“We get along fairly well, right?” he then asked.

“We don’t know each other, Aegon.”

“Okay, but…we get along, right?” he just repeated, making you sigh again.

“Yes, I guess we do,” you caved.

“And, I mean the idea of being with me doesn’t repulse you or anything, does it?”

You smiled,”No, you don’t repulse me.”

That wasn’t a lie, he wasn’t your type but you could admit he was a pretty attractive guy, objectively speaking.

“Good,” he grinned,”I think I can stomach being with you as well. Just for the plan, you know.”

You hit him on the arm and he gave you a cheeky grin.

It was such a small moment but it made you realize how strangely comfortable you felt around him, despite not knowing him very well. Come to think of it he’d always had that calming effect on you, much like Helaena. Maybe it was a Targaryen thing (Aemond excluded of course because he made you feel anything but calm).

But was it enough to go through with this whole thing?

“I just…I don’t know if I can do it, Aegon. I’m not that good of an actress.”

“Will you try, please?” he asked again and for the first time you could hear the desperation in his voice. He wasn’t just playing around, he wanted this to work, he wanted Skade to notice him just as much as you wanted Sihtric to notice you.

“She means that much to you, huh?” you realized.

He avoided your eyes for a moment and returned the question,”He means that much to you?”

”I don’t even know him,” you admitted,”But I feel like I’d really want to.”

Aegon stayed quiet for a moment before he continued,”I don’t know her that well either, but…I really liked her, I didn’t want to kick her out of bed after fucking her, which is a lot for me.”

You rolled your eyes at that information.”Charming.”

“She had me so completely under her spell,” he continued,”And then, just like that, it was all over.”

“Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he nodded,”So…can we at least give this a go? Let’s just go the club on Friday with the others and if we happen to see Skade and Sihtric there we can just…play it up a little, test the waters and see if they notice. And if they don’t we can drop the whole thing, no harm done.”

“I don’t know,” you still hesitated.

“Okay…well, I’m not going to push you if you really don’t want to.” His voice was sincere and it somehow made you more open to the idea.

You sighed deeply, thinking of Sihtric and how nothing you had done so far had managed to get his attention, after months of pining you were still completely invisible to him. Maybe it was time you tried something completely different, more bold. 

Like dating Aegon Targaryen.

“Okay, fine, maybe,” you caved.

“Maybe? Or fine?” 

“Okay, fine, god you’re so pushy,” you rolled your eyes again but also couldn’t help but smile at the way he was beaming at you, his smile lighting up his entire face now.

“Okay! Good, this is great! You won’t regret it, I promise.”

“Oh, I’m already regretting it,” you sighed but your smile stayed on your face as he kept his sleepy, blue eyes on you.

***

The club was filled that night, summer bringing in a mix of locals and tourists making the place more crowded than usual. Helaena was already on the dance floor when you arrived, giving you a quick wave before she returned her attention back to the guy she was dancing with, one of Jaces friends.

Aemond was sitting by the bar, as usual far away from the dancing crowd and focussed on watching everyone while he enjoyed his drink in peace.

You searched the room for Aegon but there was no sign of him yet. 

You ordered yourself a drink before deciding to make your way over to the dance floor to join Helaena. That’s when you saw him. And her.

Sihtric, and Skade, having a full-on make out session right in the middle of the dance floor. You instantly regretted coming here tonight and the urge to flee was growing fast. You could be on your couch right now under a warm, comfortable blanket watching a movie you loved instead of here, with heels that were painfully high and a dress that made it hard to move, forced to look at things that would only break your heart.

Just as you were about to turn on your heel you felt a warm hand on your arm.

“Where do you think you’re going, babe?” Helaena’s voice pulled you from your bad thoughts.

You smiled, pretending everything was okay,”To the dance floor, obviously.”

She locked arms with you and dragged you with her, leaving Sihtric and Skade behind.

After a few drinks and a few dances you were actually starting to feel a little bit better, as usual Helaena’s relaxed and positive aura managed to rub off on you. Or maybe it was also the alcohol taking the edge off a little bit, either way you were grateful for it. 

It lasted for about an hour, until you both exchanged the dance floor for a booth in the corner of the club and they were right there again, making out in the booth next to yours. 

If you didn’t know any better you would think he was doing this on purpose just to spite you. But of course he wasn’t, he didn’t even know you existed.

You lowered your eyes and avoided looking at them, feeling worse by the second until you felt a warm comforting hand on your knee. You looked up and much to your surprise it wasn’t Helaena but Aegon’s blue eyes that greeted you.

“Hey, my darling,” he teased, that familiar smirk back on his face.

“Hi, Aegon,” you smiled. 

“You look beautiful tonight, that dress really brings out your tits.”

“Aegon!” you laughed and shook your head.

“What? I can’t say that you have great tits? I’m your boyfriend, I’m allowed to say that, right?”

“Fake boyfriend,” you stated.

“Whatever, you look amazing tonight,” he was blushing a little now.

“Thank you, I guess,” you accepted his compliment.

“Are they here?” he then asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded at the booth next to yours,”They’re here.”

Aegon took one look behind him, finding Sihtric and Skade still all over each other, and immediately turned his attention back to you,”Damn.”

“Yeah, damn,” you sighed.

Despite your best efforts you couldn’t tear your eyes off them, the way Sihtric’s large hand moved up her thigh to pull her closer as he kissed her. The way she hugged him back, her perfect figure melting into his while his other hand tangled into her beautiful long blonde curls. She looked like the kind of girl every man fantasized about. She looked nothing like you. 

And just like that your self confidence started to crumble, Aegon’s compliment fading into the background while those voices in your head grew louder and louder, reminding you of all your insecurities. 

You look nothing like her. He will never want you. You will be alone for the rest of your life. 

Aegon noticed your absent stare and he squeezed your knee again, reminding you he was right there.

He moved a little closer to you, blocking Sihtric from your sight.“Hey, eyes on me,” he spoke softly,”Don’t look at them.”

You did as he asked, locking eyes with him.

“You alright?” Aegon then asked.

“Yeah, of course, it’s just the alcohol, it always makes me more emotional, I’m fine.”

That was only half a lie, it was mostly the Viking making you emotional, and the blonde who was practically sitting in his lap by now, claiming her territory.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Aegon grabbed your chin between his thumb and his index finger and turned your face towards his.”I told you to stop looking,” he repeated, firmer this time,”Don’t torture yourself like that, babe.”

“Sorry,” you sighed, lowering your eyes again but Aegon was quick to lift up your chin again, forcing your eyes to lock with his.

“Keep them on me, yeah?” he whispered.

You nodded and allowed yourself to shamelessly stare into his eyes. His gaze was soft but with a hint of mischief in there and you realized you had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were before now. For a moment you wanted nothing more than to stay lost in them. 

It had been a long time since you’d been this close to a guy and even longer since anyone had looked at you like that. Even if it was just Aegon and none of it was real, it still made you feel all warm inside.

“Can I touch you?” he then asked softly,”Just…to pretend…if you’re still up for it, that is.”

You smiled softly at him asking for your consent and you nodded your head.“Yes, you can touch me, Aegon.”

He smiled relieved and moved his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your neck in the process and you actually shivered at his gentle touch. He leaned in a little closer to you as well, making it look as if you were almost hugging even though there was still plenty of space between you both.

Without speaking another word he moved his face closer to yours and softly nuzzled your cheek, his breath warm against your skin. You couldn’t help but feel your face heat up. You placed your hands on his hips and he smiled against your cheek.

“Is this okay?” you asked.

Aegon laughed softly,”Yes, it’s okay, sweetheart, you can touch me anywhere you want, you don’t need to ask.” 

Then he followed your lead and placed his free hand on your waist, pulling you a little closer to him while he nuzzled your jaw and your neck. You gave into it, leaning into his touch as you closed your eyes. When you moved your hand up to gently run it through his hair you could hear him let out the softest appreciative moan. It encouraged you to keep going and Aegon rewarded you with a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Well, shit,” Helaena’s voice made you both look up.

“What is it?” Aegon asked.

“This stupid plan might actually work,” she snickered.

“What do you mean?” you asked and you quickly took a sip from your drink, trying to hide how flustered you felt.

“Skade just had her eyes on you this entire time, Aegs,” she pointed out.“And Sihtric,” she turned to you,”I think you’re no longer invisible to him because he’s looking at you right now. They are so bothered, holy shit.”

You were lost for words at her statement and before you could check you watched Sihtric get up from his table and drag Skade with him. They passed by your group without acknowledging any of you.

Aegon laughed and you couldn’t help but laugh with him.

“Well, I guess we have to go through with it now, love,” he gave you a satisfied, cheeky smirk while his hand gently squeezed your hip.

“Yeah, I guess we do,” you sighed softly. You wanted to sound apprehensive or a little annoyed even, but all you could really focus on was that little spark of excitement bubbling at the thought of having Aegon as your devoted, handsy, fake boyfriend.

****

You blamed it on two things. 

The first was that you’d been severely touch starved for years now, it had been a long time since your last boyfriend and since then you’d only had a few short flings, each one as disappointing as the next. Needless to say it didn’t encourage you to keep up an active dating life and somewhere between those last flings you had just given up and focussed on your studying.

Then you’d started work and it became even harder to meet people. You always had a small circle of friends and plenty of acquaintances but finding that one special person seemed like an impossible dream, one you eventually stopped chasing.

You weren’t unhappy with your life, you loved your job in the local bookstore, loved your little apartment looking out on the Itchen river. Winchester was the best place in the world to live, you were sure of that even though you had never left the UK. 

The city was vibrant and lively but also somehow serene and filled with lots of nature and quiet spots. You had stuck around here after finishing university and hadn’t regretted it for a single second.

You met Helaena during your first year of university here and the both of you had become instant best friends. She and her family had lived in the city their entire lives. The Targaryens were old money, known by everyone in the city and owning some of the most renowned businesses in town. 

You never cared about the money, to you Helaena was just your quirky, sweet friend with her two weird brothers. (Probably three weird brothers but you had never met Daeron before so you still had to give him the benefit of the doubt.)

Anyway, back to you being touch starved, the point was you’d been on your own for a long time now without anyone to give you any sort of real affection. And you hadn’t even really realized that until that night in the club.

Which brings you to the second thing: Aegon.

You had never seen him as anything other than your best friend’s brother, and you still didn’t, it wasn’t that you suddenly developed feelings for him. But the way he flirted and took care of you that night, all those casual touches and innocent kisses on your cheek had awakened something in you and by the end of that night your emotions were all over the place.

And it wasn’t because of him, it was because he made you realize how badly you wanted that, a caring partner by your side, someone who looked out for you, made you feel less alone in this cold world. Someone to make you feel loved and wanted. There had never been anyone like that for you and Aegon’s kindness and affection reminded you of just how lonely you’d been.

After you’d said goodbye to him and Helaena that night you had felt a strange sort of emptiness clutch at your heart, like something vital was missing from your life. 

And with that feeling came a determination to go ahead with this plan however stupid it might be. It was time to take matters into your own hands and fight for what you wanted. Regardless of how it would end, at least you would be able to put an end to this pointless crush you’d been harboring for months now. 

If it didn’t work out, you could finally move on.

And if dating Aegon Targaryen was the price you had to pay to make Sihtric finally notice you, then you would happily pay.

[dilf-din]

Emergency Contact

Poe Dameron x f!reader (college friends/modern au)

WC: 2700

Warnings: language, harassment mention (not Poe), alcohol mention, all the pining and fluff, only one bed 👀, reader has a nickname

A/N: inspired by the Pierce the Veil song of the same name. I’ve got Poe on the brain, fellas. Golden retriever guy that we all know and love. Let me know if you want a part two?? He’s so fun to write for. Enjoy, my buttered noodles 🫶🏼

PART 2

Your feet dragged through the door to your apartment like they did every Friday at 5:42. You kicked your boots off as the heavy door swung shut behind you, tossing your keys onto the counter, a skittering sound of metal against smooth stone filled your ears. The stagnant air of your apartment was a stark contrast to the biting wind you had navigated on your way off the train. Heat pricked at the back of your neck instantly, prompting you to shrug off your jacket and scarf and hang them on the rack by the door.

August, your orange tabby, jumped onto the counter nimbly, batting at your keys.

“Hey, bud,” you smiled wearily, leaning your forehead down for him to butt against.

You liked your job, but Fridays were your busiest day by far, leaving you too tired to go out with your friends for after work drinks or bar hopping. You usually settled for a documentary and some pizza, pulling up your favorite place on speed dial to put in an order for dinner. While you waited the 25 minutes you knew it would take, you got everything ready so that you could crawl in bed by 9:30, the same routine every weekend.

You stripped your work clothes into your nearly full hamper, knowing you’d have to make a trip to the bottom floor to wash it all tomorrow. You wiped your face clean of any makeup and pulled on your trusty sweatpants that you had stolen from a college fling. Just as you finished scrubbing out your coffee thermos and Tupperware from lunch and setting them up to dry, you heard the familiar buzzing indicating that your pizza was on its way up. Pulling your purse off of the back of one of your barstools, you fished two twenties out of your wallet, noting the frayed edges and thinking it was time to replace it.

You swapped the cash for the pizza, wishing the high school aged kid a good night to which he huffed in reply. With your veggie pizza next to a half empty bottle of wine and a glass, you settled on the couch and switched on your tv. The penguin documentary that made you cry was already pulled up on your home screen, so you selected it and snuggled back into your throw pillow pile. August sat perched on the top of the middle cushion, an indent from his weight already there to welcome his soft body.

The hours ticked by quickly and slowly all at once. As the clock crept closer to 9:00, you found yourself mindlessly scrolling through a dating app, turning up your lip at the unappealing offerings it brought while the local news droned on in the background. The weather girl warned of a some late night snow headed to blanket the city. You paid no mind, knowing you’d be in bed soon enough. It was at that point in the year that you needed to pull your extra quilt down to nestle under at night.

With a sigh, you folded your throw blanket and tossed it over the arm of the couch. You drained the last sip of your wine and gathered your dishes to wait in the sink to join tomorrow’s load. The pizza box fit easily in your near empty fridge. “Lunch for tomorrow,” you thought as your bare feet padded down the chilly wood floor to your room, stopping to crank your heat up by a few degrees.

After moisturizing your face and brushing your teeth, you climbed into bed, ready for another restful night’s sleep, but secretly longing for a break in your routine. You had no idea that interruption would come in the middle of the night.

12:37 A.M.

Your phone buzzing on your night stand pulled you from your sleep. You fumbled for it in the dark, pulling it to your ear without checking the number first.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Ace, it’s me,” an embarrassed voice came from the other end of the line.

“Poe? Is something wrong?”

You haven’t heard from Poe in months, one on one, that is. You two still ran in the same circle with some friends from college, but the two of you were by no means best friends any more. Still, you knew the exact expression on his face and the way his hand was behind his head ruffling through his hair the way it always did when he messed up. The years you spent in each other’s dorms quizzing each other and drinking cheap beer didn’t fade with time. Neither did the parade of girls he always had on his arm, so many you stopped asking for their names. He always said you were different, too good for any of the guys on campus. He didn’t know how much you relished his presence and the smell of his cologne on his collar. Everything started flooding back at once. His laugh cutting across a crowded room, the winks he would send you in a conversation to let you know he heard you, he was still with you even when your quiet comments got swept away.

The sound of his voice brought you back to the present even though you had one foot caught in the past.

“I need some help, Ace,” he hesitated, “I’m in jail. Can you come pick me up?”

“Jesus, Poe. Yeah. Yeah of course, I’ll be right there.”

“You’re too good to me, thank you,” relief flooded his voice.

You kicked off your covers, not even bothering to change into jeans. A quick look out your window revealed that snow had already begun to line the sidewalks below. You pulled your boots and scarf back on over your sweatshirt and pants, stuffing your keys and wallet into your pocket. The elevator was thankfully on your floor. The doors opened quickly to carry you to the bottom floor. You buttoned your coat and drew your scarf over your mouth before stepping out into the New York winter. Flurries and wind stung your eyes as you made your way down the steps to the subway that sat just outside your building.

The ride went quickly. There weren’t many other riders this time of night with this weather. The hum of the car gliding down the rails made a pleasant background noise. There were no hushed conversations or blaring music like during the day.

You arrived at the station, checking the time on your phone to see it was 1:13.

You approached the counter and smiled at the bored looking woman on the other side of the glass. She talked you through the process of picking up your friend, and within three minutes, he was making his way to you escorted by two officers.

He flashed you a toothy grin, his left eye swollen and bruised. One of the officers undid his cuffs and pushed him towards you.

“Thank you gentlemen,” he nodded, earning an eye roll from the pair of men who retreated back out the hallway.

“You don’t have a coat?” you frowned.

“Didn’t have time to grab it,” he shrugged.

You unwound your scarf and draped it over his neck. He smiled once more, softer this time.

“It’s good to see you, Ace.”

He followed you down the stoop into the cold November air. There were about two inches of snow on the ground by this point, nothing compared to the inevitable feet that would pile up in the coming weeks.

“So what happened?” you broke the silence, turning your head to meet his dark eyes.

“I know it looks bad, but it’s not that bad. I was out with some friends and a buddy of mine was way too drunk. Started getting handsy with this chick so I decked him. It turned into a whole thing. We all got kicked out. Me and him got taken in.”’

“Thank you,” you replied.

“What?”

“Thank you. For standing up for a girl. Not enough guys do something when they see shit like that going down.”

The look on his face told you that was unfathomable to him.

“Do you need a place to stay?”

“If you don’t mind. I’m not going back there until tension blows over,” his teeth started to chatter so you picked up the pace. Grabbing his hand, you pulled him towards the station with you.

“C’mon, Dameron, let’s get our hero warmed up.”

The two of you sat nestled on a bench together, personal space be damned, just like when you were teenagers. It wasn’t until you were in the dimmed fluorescent light of the train that you noticed his split knuckles. Deep purples bruises bleeding into raw spots on his right hand. Your fingers traced over the marks with a featherlight touch and he swallowed hard, leaning his head back against the icy window.

“Shit, did that hurt?”

“No, no, you’re good,” he cocked his head to the side to give you a genuine smile. “So how’ve you been? I’m sorry I keep meaning to check in.”

“No, no, it’s okay. Work’s been kicking my ass. I don’t do much besides work, sleep, and eat,” you admitted with a shrug.

“That’s no life,” he scoffed.

“It’s my life,” you responded, “I’m not like you, Poe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Fun doesn’t befall me at every turn, I don’t have a dazzling personality and tons of friends like you. I do my best to keep my head above water in every social situation. I’m always talked over or ignored. So it’s easier like this, just to bury myself in my work and fade into the background.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said that’s bullshit, Ace. That person you described doesn’t sound anything like you. You’re kind and smart and a crazy good karaoke partner,” this drew a laugh from you before he continued.

“You make people better, myself included. So don’t feed me those lines about you not being good enough to have a good life. You don’t want to look back at this time and have everything be a blur. You’ve gotta take risks, stay up late, do something spontaneous.”

“Like pick you up from jail?” you teased.

He sighed and put a hand to his face.

“You always see the best in people,” you murmured at the ground.

“No, I see what people show. You are the best of us, don’t get so down on yourself,” he squeezed your knee twice.

The walls started coming into focus as the train slowed to a stop at the platform under your street. Poe followed you up the steps and into the lobby of your building, thankful to be out of the wind.

“So what awaits me on the other side? You got a boyfriend up there who will be mad to see me?”

You laughed, “No boyfriend, just me.”

“No cute coworker with his eye on you?”

“No?”

“I’m just trying to make sure I won’t have to swing on anyone else tonight,” he smiled cockily, carrying himself with that signature swagger that he always made look effortless.

You stifled a laugh as he followed you off the elevator and to your door. August mewled loudly at your return, curious eyes following Poe’s movements. You pulled your boots off by the door once more, and he followed suit leaving his snow caked shoes next to yours.

“Coffee?” you asked from the other side of the kitchen island, already pulling a fresh filter from the cabinet.

“Yes please,” he called back. He was holding his hand out for August to sniff. “Who’s this handsome guy?”

“Are you looking in the mirror again?” you teased. “Oh, that’s August. We found each other at the beginning of the year.”

“I haven’t been to your place yet, it’s nice,” he remarked looking around.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. If you want to give your guys a few days.”

“I might take you up on that,” he said sheepishly, taking a seat on your couch.

“Here,” you tossed him a bag of frozen peas and he held them against his eye. You crossed the room to sit next to him while the coffee maker bubbled in the background.

“Are you wearing Tommy P’s sweatpants still?” Poe asked with a grin, taking in your outfit for the first time.

“They’re comfy! Nothing else! Besides, he’s married now. Do you think I should call and see if they want them back?”

Poe threw his head back and laughed.

“See, that’s the Ace I know,” he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“That looks bad,” you knelt forward to take a closer look at his eye, clutching his jaw lightly.

“I’ve had worse,” he murmured. His breath was hot on your cheek, and you realized just how close you were sitting. You pulled back hurriedly, straightening your coasters to keep your hands busy.

“Do you need anything for pain? Advil?”

“Nah, I’ll be alright. That coffee’ll warm me up enough to pass out.”

On cue, the pot beeped a little melody to let you know it was full. You grabbed two mugs and filled them.

“Black?” you called over your shoulder.

“Splash of cream?” he smiled, reciting back your preference.

“Some things never change,” you smiled, carefully handing him the dark blue mug and taking a sip from yours.

The two of you fell into conversation easily, as if no time had passed. You blinked and you were twenty again, tucked into his bottom bunk and laughing until tears fell while he did a dramatic retelling of his encounter with a history professor. You were nineteen and crying on his couch because your date stood you up and how could you be so stupid. His broad shoulders were always the perfect landing pad for your heavy head. You were eighteen and he was clinging to you like a life support on the anniversary of his mother’s death. And now you were twenty five, sharing your couch and a cup of coffee, talking about all the life that had happened since your last long talk. Neither of you could even place when it was. One day, things just got in the way.

He noticed the heavy pull of your eyelids and cut himself off.

“I’m talking your ear off, Ace. Let’s get some sleep. Don’t worry about pulling the couch out, I’ll be fine like this,” he reassured, reaching for the blanket that was draped over the arm still.

“Don’t be silly, just come sleep with me,” you said groggily.

He hesitated.

“It wouldn’t be the first time we shared a bed,” you shrugged.

He switched off the lamp and followed you down the hall.

“I’ve got an extra toothbrush in the drawer, you can have it,” you said. You pulled a fresh pair of sweats and a tee shirt out of your bottom drawer and handed them to him. “Take your time,” you smiled.

“Thanks,” he said softly, excusing himself to the bathroom to the left of your bed.

You crawled under the covers and were out in a second. It was well after four at this point. Some time later, a few minutes you guessed, you heard Poe cross the room and pull the covers up on the other side.

“Do you need a phone charger?” you mumbled.

“Nah, my phone shattered at the bar. I’m gonna have to get a new one tomorrow,” he explained, fluffing your extra pillow and tucking his arm under it.

“Okay,” your eyes closed again.

You were both quiet as sleep blanketed you like the snow on the ground outside.

“Poe?”

“Yeah, Ace?”

“If your phone is broken, how did you find my number?”

“It’s the only one I know by heart,” he said simply.

“Oh.”

“I’ve known it since freshman year.”

You smiled into the dark.

“I’m glad you called me and not someone else.”

“There’s no one else but you, Ace,” he said, voice barely a whisper.

[girlactionfigure]

🟧 Good day, events from Israel

ISRAEL REALTIME - Connecting to Israel in Realtime

▪️JEWISH HISTORY FOUND.. A 2700-year-old seal (“bul” in Hebrew), from the time of the First Temple, was discovered in Jerusalem with a painting of a winged king and the name of the owner of the seal: Yehoezer ben Hosheyahu.

♦️SAMARIA COUNTER-TERROR RESULT:  After an exchange of fire: IDF fighters under the direction of the Shin Bet killed five terrorists, including the head of the terrorist organization in Noor al-Shams, Muhammad Jaber, "Abu Shaja’a”, hiding in a mosque. Among the terrorists, Muhammad III was killed. Aber, "Abu Shahja'a", the head of the terrorist organization in Noor al-Shams. Muhammad Jaber was involved in many attacks, as well as directing the shooting attack last June, during which the late Amnon Mokhtar was murdered. 

As well, Palestinian media names an arrested individual as Mohammed Qassas, a member of Islamic Jihad's local wing in Tulkarem.

.. UN Secretary General Guterres: calls for an immediate cessation of Israeli security activity in the West Bank.

▪️HAMAS SAYS.. The head of Hamas abroad, Khaled Mashal: "The resistance operations in (Judea and Samaria) are escalating despite the difficult conditions... We want to return to the suicide attacks, an open struggle is appropriate for an open struggle, we stand against them in a constant struggle.”

.. The representative of the Hamas movement in Lebanon, Ahmed Abdel Hadi: "The enemy will be surprised by the resistance of the Palestinians in (Judea and Samaria).”

▪️YESTERDAY’S US JET CRASH REPORT.. in Iraq, possible American jet crash, was inaccurate.  Subsequent analysis shows it likely to have been an Iranian Mohajer 6 drone.

▪️ISRAEL’S UN AMBASSADOR SAYS.. ambassador Danon to the Lebanese representative, in the UNIFIL mandate extension discussion: "You have to choose - restrain Hezbollah or see your country sink into chaos and destruction."

▪️GAZA AID.. Following the shooting of the UN vehicle: the World Food Organization suspends its activities in Gaza.

▪️IRAN.. One person was killed and ten were injured in an explosion at a Revolutionary Guards facility in Isfahan. The official reason: explosion of a gas balloon

❗️Reports Israel agreed to a Gaza ceasefire to allow distribution of polio vaccine.  Prime Minister's Office: The report in News 13 about Israel agreeing to cease-fires in Gaza is FALSE.

🔹(We’ve been hearing this daily…) The Lebanese channel MTV reports: Iran's response is imminent and is expected to occur within two or three days.

♦️SYRIA.. Explosions in the area of ​​the city of Barza, northeast of Damascus. There are sensitive installations of the Syrian army in the area.

⭕ The Islamic resistance in Iraq: “We attacked the Alon Tabor power plant in the Haifa area with drones.”  No such attack known.  Meaning they launched but it didn’t arrive or was taken down en route.

⭕ 1 rocket launch from Hamas from Gaza, and one from Hezbollah overnight.

[jimraisedmeup]

TOCK // 2.2 - shout at the devil

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

SEQUEL TO TICK

Masterlist: for this Eddie Munson series

Rating: mature (angst, language, some sexual content)

Word Count: 2700

A/N: a long, juicy, throbbing one for ya'll because i know it's been a bit. i started a new job! thank you everyone for reading and for the beautiful patience <3

☼

He's the wolf screaming lonely in the night He's the blood stain on the stage He's the tear in your eyes, been tempted by his lie He's the knife in your back, he's rage

☼

May 25, 1985 - memorial day weekend

After escaping Hopper's bizarre scrutiny, you continued to walk, making your way out of the main square of downtown Hawkins.

You kept your eyes off your sneakers as you marched on - they were well-worn and comfortable. But they were dirty. Your once alabaster shoes were now scuffed and frayed. The shoelace on the left foot was barely hanging by a pathetic thread.

With everything else going on in your mind, it was easy to simply not look down at them. A part of you still couldn't help but be amused by it, though, knowing that only a year ago you would have died at the sight of these shoes.

You lit another cigarette and giggled to yourself. It was a gentle, happy sound on the empty street.

Several minutes later, the silence was beginning to be broken by the echoes of children laughing and playing nearby. The buzz of the power lines overhead rang in your ears, but you could still hear the water splashing. The diving board rattled every so often.

Hawkins Community Pool.

How did you not think of it before? It would be the perfect place for you to apply for a job. Sunshine, distractions, and not too far away from the motel until you could get a car.

The parking lot of the pool came into view, filled up with families taking their kids for Memorial Day weekend. You entered the main building, making eye contact with a smiling brunette at the front desk.

"Hi! How may I help you? Would you like to sign up for a pool pass?"

You didn't mean to flinch at the cheerful, high pitched voice. She looked very young - too young to recognize you from high school.

Quickly gathering yourself once you noticed the worried look on the girl's face, you gave her a shy smile. 

"Um, no, actually. I was wondering if I could fill out an application?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. Let me go grab one." 

The girl disappeared into a side office, her ponytail swinging behind her with every movement. You found yourself wishing you still had that kind of pep in your step.

After completing the short application, you collected your pamphlet on local lifeguard certification classes and thanked the girl at the desk. You left the bustling pool entrance, bumping shoulders with excited families and children.

As the sunlight hit your skin, you spotted a man at the far end of the parking lot, leaning against a blue Camaro. 

Parked right next to him was a hauntingly familiar black van.

☼

He'll be the love in your eyes, he'll be the blood between your thighs And then have you cry for more He'll put strength to the test, he'll put the thrill back in bed I'm sure you've heard it all before

☼

"...all I'm saying is, I can't date a broad that has two different sized tits. It makes my dick confused."

Eddie rolled up the short sleeves of his white shirt to welcome more sunlight onto his pale skin. He chuckled at Billy's crazy rant about boobs. 

The pair loitered in the parking lot of the community pool before Billy's first shift of the new season. The Munson boy leaned back in the open side door of his van, stretching his legs out on the pavement. Billy was applying sunscreen meticulously to himself.

"Maybe you could just have her keep a shirt on. So you don't have to see them," he suggested to his blonde friend. "Better yet, give her your shirt. Chicks dig that."

Billy pondered for a moment, looking around, his devious eyes hiding behind reflective sunglasses. 

After many months of being almost best friends with Billy Hargrove, Eddie still wasn't sure how to take him. He was an unpredictable ticking time bomb. Some days he was entertaining and carefree, while the flip of a coin could turn him into a raging asshole.

Eddie had the faint scars to prove it - St. Patty's Day celebrations a couple months back ended in Billy breaking glass beer bottles on the street.

"You still seeing that neighbor girl of yours?" Billy asked out of nowhere.

Eddie twitched. 

Billy was nosy as fuck. So of course, he knew about Eddie’s situation with Katrina. It was a cut-and-dry friends with benefits deal. So why was he asking Eddie about it now?

"Uh, yeah, occasionally. Why?"

With a calloused hand, Eddie lifted his long, overgrown hair off the back of his sweaty neck. He tried not to show Billy how uncomfortable the question made him and hid behind his own dark sunglasses. 

But Billy was looking across the parking lot now, where Eddie couldn't see behind his van. Billy placed his mirror sunglasses atop his head and grinned wickedly at Eddie.

"You might want to rethink that. I'm pretty sure the Buckley girl you've been crying about all year is trying to hide from us over there."

Stomach dropping and vision blurring violently, Eddie shook his head. "Who? Robin?"

"No, don't be a fucking idiot, Munson. I wouldn't forget those nudie Polaroids you have to save my life. That's the girl. Look."

Unable to stop himself, Eddie slowly stood up to peer around the corner of his van.

Billy was right. 

Walking away from them with an unusually fast pace was a woman with shiny hair, longer than he remembered. Your light blue blouse, matching the color of the sky above them, caught the glaring sunlight.

Eddie didn't think he could ever forget the sight of you, no matter how hard he tried, and now here you were. He even remembered the way you walked.

You glanced over your shoulder at them, clearly nervous. It was you.

"If you're not gonna go talk to her, then I will."

"Billy, the hell you're not! BILLY!"

But Billy had already sprinted off, his athletic body carrying him over to you rather quickly, even though you were many yards away. Eddie crawled back into his van, placing his head between his knees to control his breathing. The last thing he wanted to see was Billy chatting up his ex-girlfriend.

He felt like he was going to pass out. Why were you back? Why were you at the damn pool of all places?

Where had you been for the last fucking year?

In a sad attempt to calm his nerves before he fainted like a complete coward, Eddie reached underneath his driver's seat and pulled out a small bottle of vodka. He took several deep swallows of the harsh liquid.

Billy returned sooner than Eddie expected him to. He immediately snatched the bottle from the boy in the van, helping himself to some of the Eddie’s vodka.

"Aren't you about to, like, save children from drowning? Quit drinking all of my booze," Eddie snapped, a headache sinking deep into his skull.

Billy let out a bark of laughter, pleased with himself. "Don't you wanna know how that conversation just went?"

"No," Eddie responded firmly.

His tone was borderline seething, but as usual, Billy didn't pick up on it. 

"Whatever, man," Billy smirked, gathering up his whistle lanyard and some other work stuff. 

The lifeguard tucked away the bag of weed that Eddie had brought him into the glove box of his Camaro. It was the main reason Eddie met him at the stupid pool to begin with.

"So I'll assume you don't care that I gave her my number, then."

Eddie choked on his mouthful of vodka, fire burning in his throat and lungs. He leaned over to spit on the ground, then lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face with it.

He ignored Billy's prying eyes on his momentarily exposed pale stomach, sighing. He was very much used to that kind of thing from the blonde boy. Boundaries didn't exactly exist with Billy.

"Well?" Billy pressed, pearly white teeth shining.

Fighting the urge to bitch slap his best friend for basically no reason, Eddie left his face expressionless.

"I don't care."

But as soon as Billy vanished into the main building of the pool, Eddie peeled off in his van, heading towards wherever you might have gone.

☼

He'll be the risk in the kiss, might be anger on your lips Might run scared for the door But in seasons of wither we'll stand and deliver Be strong and laugh and...

☼

He caught up with you about a block away. Before you could cross the street, Eddie whipped his van in front of you, stopping you in your tracks.

He tried to remain as nonchalant as possible, but failed horribly. The sound of blood pounding in his ears and a cold sweat developing on his hands was all he could comprehend as he laid eyes on you.

You were so close he could touch you. You only stood about a foot away from his open window, motionless, eyes wide.

Eddie almost wanted to pinch himself, but this wasn't a hallucination. 

Sure, he had a little too much vodka only minutes before, but you were real this time. Not like the countless times before, when he would get blackout drunk and imagine you in his room, only to wake up with Katrina asleep beside him instead.

He thought you looked different than he remembered. Older. But not in a bad way. Gone were the days of round cheeks in more youthful years - you were all woman now, your bone structure matured as beautiful as a marble statue. 

Eddie felt like he was looking at you for the first time. His mind was drifting back to that fateful day in the cafeteria, when you asked him about giving you a tattoo.

Unsure of how to begin this conversation, or exactly what kind of emotions he was even feeling, Eddie bit his lip. 

But you beat him to it.

"Can I help you, freak?"

The boy in the van before you burst into loud, genuine laughter. Your voice was still as deep as the ocean, sweet like molasses. 

"Get in the van and I'll tell you exactly how you can help me, sunshine."

"No."

You scowled at him and firmly planted your feet. But you didn't walk away.

"Fine," Eddie replied with a smile, stepping out of the van. "I'll come out of the van to talk to you."

"You're parked in the middle of the road."

"I don't care."

"You smell like vodka."

"I don't care."

He felt your bright eyes rake over him, not unlike how Billy did just moments ago. Eddie was desperate to read your mind, curious to know what you thought of him now.

Leaning against the door of his van, he gestured with a ring-clad hand. "So… how long have you been back in town?"

"I just got back this morning," you mumbled, crossing your arms. 

"Where have you been? Why did you leave me?" 

Eddie tried to keep the tone of his voice under control, struggling to maintain a mature conversation. Letting his repressed emotions spill out onto Spruce Street wasn't on his agenda for the day.

You kicked at some rocks on the ground near your feet. The Munson boy was very aware of how beat up your shoes were, but didn't say anything. It was obvious that you weren't doing well.

"I… I don't want to talk about that. Not now."

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Eddie spoke patiently. "You didn't call. You didn't write. Nothing."

"I'm sorry."

Eddie flinched at your puny, callous response. "That's all you have to say? Did I really mean that little to you?"

The anger bubbling at the edges of his words evoked the kind of response he wanted from you. Eddie was silently proud that he still knew how to push your buttons, to make you open up to him.

"I didn't have a choice!" you snapped, throwing your hands in the air. Your face reddened in frustration. "I didn't… I didn't have a choice."

"You say that like you were locked in some kind of reform school," Eddie joked, running a hand through his hair.

He was kidding, of course, but the look on your face as you dropped your chin told him he wasn't completely wrong. Eddie could see your hands were shaking.

"Are you serious?" He took a step towards you, but you jumped away from him as if he burned you.

You sighed. "I told you, I don't want to talk about it. But I didn't choose to leave, okay? I didn't choose to disappear for an entire year."

Still feeling a little angry at the lack of answers, at the suffering he endured for so many months, Eddie took one last jab. 

"I deserved a better goodbye," he hissed behind clenched teeth.

Fury burned in your piercing gaze. "Yeah? You think? Well, you can thank my dear old dad for that."

"I should have killed him at that party when I had the chance." 

You rolled your eyes. "Still as dramatic as ever. I don't think you're capable of killing anyone, Munson."

The corner of his mouth lifted. "I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult."

"Both, I suppose," you responded offhandedly.

Eddie didn't know what else to say. The sun was beating down on them; this particular street didn’t have enough trees to block the rays. The vodka he had consumed was making his empty stomach churn.

"I have to get back." You stepped away from him. "I'll see you around?"

"You're not staying with your dad are you?"

You snorted crudely, but Eddie thought it was a magical sound. "Hell no. I'm… staying at the motel on the edge of town. At least until I can get a job and my own place."

Of course Eddie knew the motel, because that was where Katrina worked. His stomach flipped over again. Him and Katrina weren't official by any means, and he couldn't find a logical reason now to bring up something like that to you.

You, the girl who had disappeared from his life like you were nothing more than an illusion. You were standing before him now, your eyes like cavernous orbs taking in his every movement, every word spilling from his lips.

His fucked up brain was reacting to this like you had passed away and then was somehow resurrected from the grave. An ethereal corpse.

Snapping him out of his hazy thoughts, your voice rang out like the singing of a bird.

"...Eddie?"

"What?"

"I was saying goodbye."

Eddie cracked his knuckles, checked his watch, then motioned for the van. "Let me drive you back over there. It's on the way to my place."

You looked apprehensive. "Are you sure? I can walk-"

"I'm positive," he interrupted with a lopsided smile. "Plus, Brenda here has missed you quite a bit. There's a lot of good memories in this old beater."

He ran around to the other side of the van to open the door for you, unable to stop his wandering eyes from admiring your bare legs. You smelled like soap mixed with a little bit of sweat from the hot day.

"I'm putting a lot of trust in you to get me there safely," you chuckled, clicking your seat belt into place. "It reeks of booze in here."

"I'm a skilled drunk driver these days."

Eddie glanced over at you as he put the van in drive. You seemed saddened by his comment, like you knew you had caused a lot of emotional damage in your wake without ever meaning to.

So he changed the subject. “Did you… take Billy’s number?”

You side-eyed Eddie, confused. “What?”

“The shirtless douche that went up to you a while ago. He said he gave you his number.”

Raised eyebrows, you reached into the pocket of your jean shorts and retrieved a crumpled piece of paper. “Yeah, I took it.” 

Disappointment dripped onto his heart. Eddie had silently hoped that Billy was just trying to ruffle his feathers. Could he seriously be so cruel as to prowl on the girl who broke Eddie’s heart, without even a second thought? Maybe it was a grave mistake to consider Billy a friend, let alone a best friend.

But then you opened the paper and held it out for the brown-eyed boy to see.

“Wipe that look off your face, Munson. I already have this number, actually,” you lifted your mouth in a little smile. “He gave me your number.”

☼

Shout, shout, shout! Shout at the devil! Shout, shout, shout! Shout at the devil!

☼

(song lyrics credit: "Shout at the Devil" by Mötley Crüe)

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[jaggedhorseteeth]

Better in the Morning // Ch. 2

MASTERLIST

word count: 2700

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Drinking, language, arguing, insults, mentions of violence, mentions of sex, drunk creeps harassing women in bars

Over the course of the next few months, Jake and I grew closer than I ever imagined we would. We had our separate lives, giving each other plenty of space so as to not smother ourselves, but lately we had been spending more and more time together. He was attentive- we talked daily, and I was getting used to the ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ texts. Since coming to Tennessee, I hadn’t had much time to explore but he remedied that, and we experienced what Nashville had to offer together.

It felt as though we never ran out of things to talk about, and we were constantly learning new things about each other. I loved that we never let the banter die down; having fun with him, joking around, pushing each other’s buttons, it all came naturally. His laughter made me feel like I was home.

Oh, he was always a perfect gentleman, careful not to overstep any boundaries, but when the time came (pretty early on if I’m being honest), the sex was phenomenal. It was full of fire and passion, and usually ended with us both so fucked out we couldn’t form actual sentences. There was a perfect balance of sensuality and roughness, being given and received on both ends. I was more than happy to let him take control, to exert that dominance that made my knees tremble and lit a fire in my gut. But being with him, exploring each other, made me realize that occasionally, I quite enjoyed reversing those roles. More than once he got on his knees and begged me to give him release. And damn, he sure was pretty like that.

The first time he brought me around to meet his brothers, there was almost an immediate connection. I really enjoyed their company and for the most part, they treated me like I had been a part of the group forever. Josh was slightly standoffish at first, but he was always kind. His personality was so different from Jake’s, but the unmistakable link between them was surreal. Sam was a goofball, always making everyone laugh. I pretended I didn’t notice the way he watched Daniel like he was the most precious person on the planet.

Even Richie was starting to warm up to Jake. I was thankful they, at the very least, had one thing in common when they could bond over guitars. The occasional grumble from Richie when Jake would flirt in front of him became less threatening, and more of something we would laugh about later.

Jake was able to witness my excitement firsthand when Richie and I finished restoring the Gretsch. He was just as fascinated when I opened the case, now cleaned and restored as well, to show it off. I watched his eyes light up at the sight of it.

The 1957 6-string electric guitar had all new hardware, including two single-coil pickups and a Bigsby vibrato tailpiece. Jake examined the wood, astonished at how smooth it all looked, like it was brand new. “It’s got a chambered mahogany body and neck, a maple top, and the fretboard is rosewood,” Richie explained, clearly proud of our work. I was especially proud of the finish, in a dark Cadillac green. Jake carefully ran his fingers along the neck, examining all the details like he was trying to memorize it. Judging from the way he looked at it, I’d bet if it didn’t already have a buyer, he would have been first in line.

With how smoothly everything was going, it figured that we would hit a road bump soon. And we did, when we had our first actual argument.

We were at a local bar with the guys, having a good time drinking and chatting, and generally shooting the shit. I made my way to the bar for another drink, Jake absorbed in conversation with Daniel. While I waited for my drink, I felt the approach of the stranger before I saw him. I didn’t turn to look at him until he spoke.

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing buying her own drinks? Your man not taking good enough care of you?”

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. First chance to take the hint and back off, buddy.

“C’mon, don’t be like that, gorgeous. Let me buy you a drink, and later I can show you how a real man oughta treat you.”

“I’m not interested. Beat it.” Second chance.

He closed the distance between us until I could feel and smell his disgusting breath on me. Give me just one reason, please. I was preparing to defend myself if it came down to it, as I’d unfortunately done many times before. There was never any fear, just annoyance at this guy’s utter audacity. If there was one thing that I was thankful for from my father, was his insistence on me learning how to fight.

I heard the man chuckle as he took his third and final chance before I got to the part about kicking his ass. “You sure about that, sweetheart? I think you-“

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Everything happened so fast, I barely had time to register Jake forcing himself in between myself and the stranger and shoving the man backwards. “Back the fuck off, asshole.”

The guy shook his head, deciding it wasn’t worth the trouble. “Fucking crazy,” he mumbled, disappearing into a group of patrons. I can’t say I wasn’t grateful; I had never seen Jake fight so I wasn’t sure how things would have gone on that front if that man decided to fight back. But I sure was livid.

Jake turned to me. “Are you oka-“

“What the fuck was that?”

The confusion on his face was clear but did nothing to quell my own irritation.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Jacob. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Are you serious? Pardon me for trying to protect my girlfriend-“

“I don’t need your fucking protection!” I’m sure we had turned a few heads by then. I let out an exasperated sigh and marched past him, towards the exit. He followed closely, continuously trying to argue his point.

“That creep was fucking harassing you.”

“There will always be creeps in bars harassing me! I had it under control.”

“Yeah? And what if he got physical with you? Got violent? Then what? I was just supposed to let him hurt you?” He was still hot on my heels when we made it outside, the cool air a welcome change from the stuffy bar.

“Then I’d get violent right back. I know how to protect myself; I don’t need a man to do it for me!” I’m sure I was yelling at this point, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.

“You really think you’d be able to fend off someone that’s twice your size?”

“I’ve done it before! I’m not a fucking damsel in distress, Jake. I wasn’t raised like that. I’m not afraid of some pathetic, drunk asshole who isn’t even capable of walking straight!”

“Well maybe you should be! I get that you want to play the ‘I’m a badass and don’t need help’ card, but you don’t have to be stupid and reckless!”

I scoffed. “Oh, I’m stupid and reckless because I didn’t come crying to my boyfriend to save me from the mean ole’ frat boy trying to buy me a drink? I’m not the one that was trying to start a fight in a crowded bar. How do I know you wouldn’t have gotten your ass kicked?”

“I was trying to help you; don’t you see that? But fine, I guess I’ll just go fuck myself for trying to be chivalrous!”

“What you’re being is a pain in the ass.” I’ll be the first to admit I was stubborn as a mule often, when the situation called for it, but I could recognize when it was time to walk away. We were both heated for our own reasons, and I didn’t see anything happening other than the situation escalating. I was seeing red, and the more he talked the worse it got. “I’m gonna go.”

“No, Kya, wait-“ He made like he was going to reach out and touch me. Sighing, I put my hands up and stepped back.

“Jake, right now I need some space, and we both need to cool off. Go back inside, enjoy the rest of your night. We can talk tomorrow.”

He rubbed his hand over his face in frustration, but he didn’t argue. He had a dejected look on his face that tugged on my heartstrings. I wasn’t enjoying this, and I hated making him feel bad, but needed to understand this about me if we were going to make our relationship work. I refused to let anyone walk all over me, whether it be a stranger or my own boyfriend. I was sure we would talk later, and I could nip the issue in the bud and hope we could move past it.

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight,” he whispered sadly as I walked away from the man I definitely did not want to walk away from.

~

I still wasn’t feeling good about the whole incident when I walked into the shop early the next morning. I should have known Richie would notice right off the bat.

“Why do you look like someone pissed in your Cheerios? Do I need to kill someone?”

I sighed. “I’m fine. Jake and I got into an argument last night, is all.”

He raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes back and forth like he was thinking. “So, I can kill him? ‘Cause I gladly-“

“Shut up,” I chuckled. “You’re not killing anyone. I’m sure we’ll talk it out later.”

“Ugh, fine. You wanna talk about it?”

Throughout my life, I could always rely on Richie to have my back for almost everything. He was the parent that I did have, the one I could open up to without fear of judgement or being brushed off. So I explained what had transpired and what was said during the argument, how I chose to distance myself, and how shitty it made me feel to walk away from Jake.

“Ah, shit. You love that fucker, don’t you?”

I groaned at his forward, but very true, assumption, bringing my head down to meet my arm on the counter. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably?”

He patted my shoulder. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“He just made me so mad last night!”

“And I’m sure it won’t be the last time. Hell, you’re bound to piss him off plenty, too. Doesn’t mean it ain’t right. It’ll be hard sometimes but you’re tough, and if you love him, you’ll work through it.”

“When did you get so wise?”

“Ha, I’ve always been wise, young grasshopper. Now, listen up.” He lowered his voice, putting on a more serious tone. “You’ve always been bullheaded. You’re the most stubborn but one of the strongest people I know. You’ve been through some shit that toughened you up and made you into who you are now. The world you were brought up in, you needed to be tough to survive. That’s why your dad and I made sure you could protect yourself and taught you push back fear. And it’s great; it means I don’t really have to worry about you. Now, I don’t know him all that well, but I think it’s safe to assume Jacob didn’t grow up in a world like that. If I had to guess, he probably has a mom who raised him right, and raised him to be a man who, drumroll please, protects his woman. I know you ain’t used to that, but I bet he ain’t used to having a woman he doesn’t need to protect. He intervened ‘cause he cares about you.”

He was right. I knew that. I felt like such an asshole. I treated Jake badly and he didn’t deserve that. “This is where you tell me that I’ve got to learn to compromise, huh?”

“Let him take care of you, Kya.”

As if on cue, my phone buzzed. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Jake <3 – 8:13 AM

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. Can we talk?

-

I’m sorry, too. I can come over after work. If you’ll have me.

-

Jake <3 – 8:15 AM

Of course. I’ll make dinner.

I smiled at his offer. He was still willing to go out of his way and put forth an effort, even after our argument. It made me feel better and gave me a little hope that I hadn’t completely fucked everything up.

It was about 6:30 PM by the time I pulled into his driveway. I swallowed my nerves, walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Why the hell am I even nervous?

It didn’t take him long to answer, greeting me with that sweet smile of his. His hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few stray hairs peeking out, and he had a dish towel draped over his shoulder. “Hey.” He stepped to the side, allowing me to cross the threshold, and shut the door behind me.

“It smells really good in here.” He demonstrated early in our relationship that he was an excellent cook, and he really enjoyed it. He always jumped at an opportunity to cook for other people. I wondered if it would have been his calling if not for the music.

He grinned. “Thanks. It’s Bolognese. Uh, it’s got to simmer for another ten or fifteen minutes, but it’ll be ready soon. Do you… want a drink? You know, since you never got the one you ordered at the bar last night?”

I furrowed my brow. “Shit, you’re right. I forgot about that drink.” I noticed him fidgeting with his fingers, picking at the cuticles. He’s nervous, too. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I pulled him to me so I could plant a kiss on his lips. “I’ll take you up on that drink. Surprise me.” I smiled sweetly at him, the interaction seeming to calm both our nerves.

He brought me a glass of Amaretto on ice. “My favorite. Suck up.”

Laughing, he retorted, “Babe, I’ll gladly suck up to you however I can, whenever you want me to.”

“I’m not complaining.” Rubbing my thumb across the glass, I averted my gaze to my lap. “I’m sorry about last night, Jake. I know you had good intentions, and I overreacted. I don’t want to make excuses, it’s just not something I’ve had a lot of experience with, someone standing up for me like that. I had to learn how to fend for myself when I was really young. It’s not an easy mindset to break. But it doesn’t give me the right to act like a bitch.”

Jake leaned back on the couch and tilted his head back. “If I’m being honest, I think I was jealous.” He drew in a deep breath. “I saw that guy practically breathing down your neck and it pissed me the fuck off. He had no right to be that close to my girl, you know? But you were right, you had it under control. I shouldn’t have gotten involved like that. And I don’t think you’re stupid or reckless. That was really shitty of me to say. I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

Finishing off my drink, I placed the glass on the table and leaned into him. His arm landed across my shoulders, and I rested my head on his chest. “Of course I forgive you. I hope you can forgive me, too. I just need you to trust me, let me do my thing. If you can promise me that you’ll try, I promise to try to let you do your thing, too. To let you take care of me.”

He pulled me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head. “I can definitely do that.” The beeping of a kitchen timer rang through the room. “C’mon, baby, let’s eat.”

[vaya-writes]

Serving the Serpent - 7

Briar owes Lord Isen her life. She works off her debt by serving in his castle. Dealing with the rapidly changing circumstances of her life, she’s not used to anyone paying her much attention. It’s hard when Isen seems set on interacting with her. 

Cis female human with selective mutism x male naga (slow burn, co-workers to lovers, power imbalances, eventual smut). 2700 words. Content warnings for this chapter include allusions to Briar's cult-like upbringing, it's implied that Isen did not have a great childhood, and some unwanted romantic advances (though not taken far). Divider from firefly-graphics

Briar is still adjusting to her new position. Cue some world building, and some backstory tidbits from Isen regarding his family.

Previous - Masterlist

Briar’s stress starts to pick up the first time Isen uses the speaking tube. She hadn’t slept late. Not really. But Isen had to be up early for a meeting, and had woken before Briar in a rare instance. 

There’d been a shrill whistle from the tube beside her bed, and Briar had been awake immediately, heart pounding, panicking as she tried to kick her legs free of the blankets. It had taken her several moments to place herself, to identify the source of the noise, and to calm her breathing before opening the valve of the speaking tube and tapping on the metal mouthpiece, nails clacking to signify she was ready for Isen’s message. 

Things grow hectic from there. With Winter's arrival, Isen is busier, attending meetings with the locals at least twice a week. Much of Isen’s time is spent with Dinah Vulsinger, his financier, finalising the budget for the upcoming year. The rest is spent with Arol, Isen’s right hand. The lizard is from the area, and has a large part in organising last minute supplies for the winter, and preparing for the thaw. 

Briar dutifully follows Isen in this time, keeping her ears open, learning as much as she can about how he governs the Lowlands. 

She learns to write with ease. It’s still slow going, and her vocabulary is miniscule compared to those around her. But gradually she learns new words and their spellings. Numbers come less easily to her, but Lockwood has her practicing different sums each day.  

Isen makes Briar read the documents Dinah sends him. He makes her read everything, for that matter, until the words swim before her eyes, and she no longer parses meaning from the papers. Sure, reading budgets and stock counts help her understand applied mathematics. But there’s only so much she can absorb each day. 

She comes to relish her work as a cleaner and servant. It’s a chance to let her mind wander. To work without being in a state of intense concentration. But the tasks dwindle as she becomes more efficient. With the floors cleaned each day, it hardly takes her half an hour to do them. She could probably change Isen’s linens with her eyes closed. It leaves her with far too much time on her hands – time that Isen easily monopolises. 

Because when she’s not cleaning, or reading, or following him around from meeting to meeting, duty to duty, he’s speaking to her. Chattering about his work, even if half the information goes over her head. Asking how to sign certain things. Gently prodding now and then, about Briar herself. About New Haven. About her aunt. About her life before. 

She’s grateful he doesn’t ask certain questions. Not what happened to her parents. Nor why she is mute. Or how she ended up a sacrifice to the beastly creature of Eastern Highwood. She’s not sure if she’s ready to share those aspects of herself. It’s hard enough talking about herself. She’d been taught from a young age: she was to be seen and not heard. Speaking only when spoken to. Her worth was less than those around her. 

Isen must have been raised differently, she thinks. Despite being a Lord. Despite owning land. Something must have happened to make him different. Why else would he treat all his servants with kindness and smiles? Greet the peasants among them with familiarity, and good humour? Why else would he keep asking her opinion? Touching her hand as he passed? Bumping shoulders when she forgets her guard? 

It confuses her. Flusters her. Unsettles her. But she grows... not quite used to it. But to expect it. The casualness, and the disregard for etiquette. His freedom with touch, and his continuous quips. She’s not sure she’ll ever be completely okay with them, but it gets easier to mask her surprise. Easier to relax her shoulders, and not freeze up completely if he lingers in her personal space a moment too long. He’s proven himself safe to be around. Backing off when she ices him out, or apologising if he notices her discomfort.  

“You look tired,” he comments over one dinner. 

She straightens, suddenly aware of her slouch. Then shrugs. ‘I’m fine.’ 

A smile flickers at his mouth, before he covers it with his hand. “You’re allowed to be tired, you know.” 

Is she? She’d woken up to the speaking tube again, letting her know that Isen would be taking his breakfast elsewhere. Hastily she’d dressed and stepped into Isen’s chambers to ask if he wished she accompany him, but he’d waved her off.  

It takes a mental toll, being switched on all the time. Being on standby, even when Isen doesn’t have her working. She’s loath to disappoint, or to keep Isen waiting. He doesn’t interrupt her during her down time often, but when he does, she can’t help but scramble into action, an unwelcome anxiety growing in her, that if she makes him wait too long, he’ll be unhappy. He’ll punish her. 

“Are you following the new lessons Lockwood gave you?” 

She stills her features, masking her displeasure. She’d started learning multiplication and division. It’s a lot to get her head around, but she is picking it up. ‘They’re not easy, but I can do them.’ 

Isen lets the smile show this time. “They’ll get easier with practice.” 

There’s a beat of silence while they both eat. Isen breaks it again. “And the meetings. We haven’t been debriefing as frequently. Did you have any questions?” 

Endless questions. She lets her next frown show. ‘Yes, but...’ she struggles with her phrasing, ‘...I don’t know where to start.’ She also hadn’t wanted to bother Isen. She knows he’s open to teaching her, answering her questions. He does so with patience every time. But she also only asks the most pertinent of questions, not wanting to take hours just to fill in the gaps of her knowledge.  

That and there are questions she literally can't ask. She doesn’t know the signs, or the spelling for several of the concepts that are mentioned in front of her. It’s frustrating. 

“Start at the beginning?” 

It’s not very helpful advice. Still. She leans back to consider a topic. Decides on something of current relevance. 

‘What happens during the thaw?’ (Thaw. Melt. Ice change to water.) 

“Oh, the thaw. Well, it floods, of course. You probably haven’t seen the worst of it in Highwood, but depending on the length of the winter, some of the usual settlements become uninhabitable. It doesn't last long, but it can be quite destructive.” 

Briar frowns. ‘Why build there?’ 

Isen shrugs. “Where else? The woods are narrow, populated with humans and beasts. You can live in the marsh if you build on stilts. The only things we can farm in this area practically grow in the water. And there are no main roads, so all imports have to come by river.” 

Briar almost doesn’t ask her next question. ‘Is it worth it?’ 

Isen raises his brows. “What? Living here?” 

‘Ruling here.’ (Ruling. Owning. Working.) 

Isen smiles at that, the expression unusually contrite. “It’s... not a glamourous area, no. But my father bestowed stewardship to me. And people would live here regardless of rule. So, I take it upon myself to do a good job.” 

It’s strange having such a casual conversation with Isen. Learning details about him that don’t come up when he’s on the clock.  

‘Who is your father?’ 

Isen’s expression hardens, if minutely. Still, Briar braces at the change in his exterior. “My father. Lucien Kovit. One of the Collective. He rules over nearly half of the Isles, if you include my and my sister’s territories.” 

Briar blinks. She’d had no idea that Isen had come from such an influential family. 

He winces at her expression. “Don’t. It doesn’t change anything. My father is an arrogant, controlling, unkind male, and I’d rather not be grouped in with him.” 

Still, curiosity eats at her. Her family situation was vastly different from many of the ones she saw growing up; she can’t help but wonder at how Isen was raised. 

‘What about your mother?’ 

Isen relaxes, but not by much. “One of father’s many wives. Their partnership was less political, and more about offspring. A boa and a sea serpent were considered an unstable match, but father wanted a clutch of venomous children. Regardless, I barely knew the female. We were all my father’s creatures.” 

Something about his phrasing makes Briar reexamine Isen. Sympathy creeps through her. Enough so that part of her is tempted to share her own fraught history. A part she staunchly ignores, in favour of more interesting information. 

She hopes it’s a lighter topic. ‘And are you?’ 

“Am I...?” 

‘Venomous?’ She has to mime the meaning, pointing at her teeth when no synonyms come to mind. 

“Oh, no. Well, I’ve no venom I can use in combat anyway.”  

There’s a grey tinge to Isen’s cheeks. Is he... blushing? 

A growing part of her is dying to know what he means, politeness be damned. ‘Not in combat?’ (Combat. Fight.) 

“No,” he says, more firmly. “My sister Zyla, and my brother Starlen inherited deadlier venoms. Zyla possesses an uncommon neurotoxic venom which paralyses her opponents, whereas Starlen has a more traditional hemotoxin.” 

Briar has no idea what several of those words mean, but she knows a deflection when she hears one. Clearly Isen doesn’t want to talk about his own abilities.  

She respects the move, begrudgingly, and shrugs. ‘You have siblings?’ (Brother. Sister. Both. Siblings.) 

He grimaces. “Too many half siblings to count. Literally scores of them. But of my clutch there are three. Zyla, Starlen, and Kylet.” 

‘What are they like?’ 

Isen finishes his food and slouches over his desk. “Zyla is the golden child. She has a whole island under her stewardship. Starlen... has a posting in the Isle military. Kylet is a bit of an entrepreneur. A bad one. Regardless, father still funds their businesses. Encourages them when they fail.” Isen frowns. “That one could get away with murder if they tried.”  

Briar tries reading between the lines. She’s not sure why but it seems like, ‘you’re not favoured?’ 

Isen’s nose crinkles. “Not in the least. Father doesn’t like my style of business.” 

‘Why?’ 

Isen shrugs. “I’m not trying to conquer the neighbours. Or build a monopoly. My name won’t be in history books or written on statues and plaques. He’s obsessed with legacy. Always on my case about making a name for myself. Or how I run the place.” He rolls his eyes. “Just thinking about it irritates me. Can we talk about something else?” 

Brian offers Isen a rare smile. It’s small, and strained, and her next signs are hesitant, but she offers as much solidarity as she can. ‘I wasn’t favoured either.’ 

Isen’s next smile matches her own. It’s more of a grimace. “Based on how we met, I’d gathered.” He doesn’t meet her eyes when he next speaks, staring instead at one of the reports on his desk. She gets the feeling that he’s paying close attention, however. “Did you want to talk about it?”  

She lets out a noise of displeasure.  

Isen looks back to her, surprised at the vocalisation.  

‘No thank you.’ 

He gives a begrudging smile. “If you ever change your mind, I’ll listen.” 

She shrugs, and stands, ready to tidy up. She’s collecting dishes and clearing the desk when she notices Isen’s stare. He looks contemplative, biting his lip absent mindedly. 

It’s an effort not to fidget under his gaze, and she wonders if he even realises he’s staring. Until he breaks the silence. 

“I’ve a trip planned later this week. It’s not far, just touring the villages in the Lowlands. Would you like to come with me?” 

Briar blinks. It’s hard to parse an expected reaction when Isen’s face is carefully composed into neutrality. She evades the question, asking instead, ‘Should I come?’ 

Her boss shrugs. “It would be a good opportunity to see the Lowlands. Learn about the villages. See me at work.” 

She imagines he might let her stay behind if she truly wished. But he makes a fair point. Apprehension still fills her. ‘I’ve never travelled before.’ 

He breaks into a gentle smile. “It’s a longer trip from Highwood to here than it is to the villages.” 

She contains a wince. Keeps the sentiment to herself – that she doesn’t remember much of that trip to Riversreach. That she’d been drugged into insensibility and numb with terror. 

But he waits patiently for her answer. Perhaps he’d be amenable towards a few questions... 

‘How long?’ 

He relaxes fractionally at her interest. “A day at the shortest. It’s usually an overnight trip.  

‘Why?’ 

“Why is it an overnight trip?” 

‘Why do you go?’ 

His eyes unfocus as he considers. “This trip is to inspect preparations for winter and the thaw. Arol could do it for me, but I try to visit the locals once each season. Remind them I exist.” 

‘They would otherwise forget?’ (Else. If you did not.) 

Isen smiles, though not at her. “It’s easier to build trust and connections with a person when you know their face, don’t you think? When you can speak with them from time to time. I could delegate the work, but I like to hear the local problems for myself on occasion, too. It certainly makes them more tangible than if I just read about it.” 

She’s surprised at his reasoning. The Pilgrims had taught her that authority (except from their own leaders, or course) was always out of touch. That they did not care for the peasants or their problems. She’d wondered why he’d been so busy with meetings lately. The stream of locals visiting twice weekly had perplexed her. 

“So, will you join me?” 

She’s still apprehensive. But now she can’t help but feel curious. And that curiosity outweighs the fear. Barely. 

She gives Isen a measured nod.  

He smiles. “I’ll let Arol know. He'll sort our transport and accommodation. Do let Lockwood know that you’ll be absent from your lessons, yes?” 

Briar finishes her tidying. Typically, she’d rejoin Isen at the table, reading over his reports, but tonight he waves her off. 

“You’ve done enough today, Legs. Unless you want to keep working.” 

She conceals a grimace at the nickname. Then shrugs. ‘What else would I do?’ 

Isen stills, before frowning at Briar. “I don’t know if anyone has told you this, but you are welcome to leave Riversreach on your days off. Or visit your old quarters to socialise during the evenings. There are shops in the villages too. You might see something you’d like to purchase.” 

She had not been told. She hadn’t even been aware that she had days off. Perhaps Lockwood had informed her, on that first day here. But she’d been too sick with anxiety, too grief stricken over the loss of her home to take in any of the details. She hadn’t even left the castle in her weeks here, nor spent any of her wages. It’s little wonder she has no source of leisure. 

She doesn’t let any of that show on her face, though. Instead, she gives Isen a gracious nod. ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’ 

He tilts his head, a playful lilt entering his words. “Unless, of course, you’re lingering because you enjoy my company.” 

She gives Isen a flat stare, but it’s not enough to dissuade him from continuing.  

“I’m actually going to bed now, Legs. So, unless you wanted to join me...” 

She can’t help but stiffen; her lips pursing with the effort it takes to bite back her scowl. She decides right then that she’d rather spend the next few hours doing nothing in her room, than deal with Isen’s casual advances.  

‘Goodnight, my lord,’ she signs, before promptly leaving.  

It’s a shame of course, she reflects upon entering her room. She’s confident by now that Isen won’t fire her for leaving so suddenly. That he won’t hold it against her if she denies his advances, or shirks his humour.  

She just wishes he wouldn’t make such attempts. If it weren’t for them, she could almost allow herself to agree with him. To admit that she really does enjoy his company.  

If only a little. 

Next

[egypt-museum]

"In this book, Richard Bussmann presents a fresh overview of ancient Egyptian society and culture in the age of the pyramids. He addresses key themes in the comparative research of early complex societies, including urbanism, funerary culture, temple ritual, kingship, and the state, and explores how ideas and practices were exchanged between ruling elites and local communities in provincial Egypt.

Unlike other studies of ancient Egypt, this book adopts an anthropological approach that places people at the centre of the analysis. Bussmann covers a range of important themes in cross-cultural debates, such as materiality, gender, non-elite culture, and the body. He also offers new perspectives on social diversity and cultural cohesion, based on recent discoveries.

His study vividly illustrates how our understanding of ancient Egyptian society benefits from the application of theoretical concepts in archaeology and anthropology to the interpretation of the evidence."

— The Archaeology of Pharaonic Egypt: Society and Culture, 2700–1700 BC, by Richard Bussmann

[4eternal-life]

Male Harp Player of the Early Spedos Type, 2700–2300 B.C.

Artist/Maker: Unknown Culture: Cycladic Place: Cyclades, Greece (Place Created) Date: 2700–2300 B.C. Medium: Marble Dimensions: 35.8 × 9.5 × 28.1 cm (14 1/8 × 3 3/4 × 11 1/16 in.)

Department:  Antiquities

Classification: Sculpture

The J. Paul Getty Museum, Villa Collection, Malibu, California

Illustrations of musical performances are scarce in Cycladic art, and this harpist is one of the few known examples. Sitting erect on a simple four-legged stool with his face lifted in song, he plays a frame harp—a stringed instrument that originated in the Near East—while resting his right hand on its sound box.

The extension at the top, a common feature on ancient stringed instruments, facilitated the projection of the sound. Originally the figure’s eyes and hair were added in paint. This challenging composition of a seated player, stool, and delicate frame was shaped from a block of solid marble and then patiently ground down with pumice and emery, locally available abrasives. The resulting three-dimensional design is a masterpiece of Bronze Age sculpture.

[lovesastateofmind1]

crash into you and mirror fic pls, boss 🫡

Crashing Into You is being co-written with @fyonahmacnally and @chaotic-super. Though 'co-written' is a strong word because there hasn't been much in the way of writing going on 😅 but here is a snippet.

Amber liquid swirls in her glass, catching the low lights of her childhood bedroom, looking like the most enticing thing she’s seen in a while. But with the way things have been going, that isn’t saying much. 

She feels out of place here. Perhaps even more so now than she did at four years old. Now that there’s no boyish grin on the other side of a chessboard. Now that there’s no one left to chase the nightmares away so that she can fall back to sleep. 

It was an aneurysm, the autopsy said. He was here one minute and in the next he was gone. Left behind. Dozens of voicemails left unanswered on a phone never plugged into charge until Lena found him four days later. Face down on the persian rug in his penthouse. A half empty glass of scotch on the table beside him. 

Lionel drank too much. It was one of the first things she noticed about him. On the rare occasion that he was actually home, Lena never saw him without a glass in hand. Never saw him smile. Never saw his eyes not hardened in fury. She learned to avoid him. To make herself scarce. She learned to watch from a distance. To let him lead by example and show her everything she didn’t want to be. 

She was shipped off to boarding school after he died, Lillian no longer interested in keeping up the ruse. And she remembers how obsessed they were with it. How the girls would wear their skirts a little shorter, their tops a little lower, and loiter around local convenience stores in hopes of getting some stranger to smuggle out some beer. Lena never saw the appeal in it. They went out and she stayed behind. They staggered in late at night, reeking of booze on cheap cologne and she studied in the lamplight of her dorm room, wrinkling her nose and wishing she could just be normal. 

As she got older, the fear for all the things she could have been became less intense. She had a better hold on herself. She knew restraint. Knew her limits. She was twenty two when she learned the taste of cheap wine. Her college boyfriend thought that would be the easiest way to integrate her fully into university life. They sat underneath a large oak tree after dark, sharing it and watching the stars. And Lena thought she knew love then. Thought she understood herself, understood the world in a way her younger self never dreamed of. 

Good things never last though. The next semester saw him disappear. And she was alone again, drowning in her own thoughts. Picking up a bottle of scotch from the liquor store between classes. She threw up the first time she drank it. Her roommate found her slouched over the toilet the next morning and she vowed never to touch it again. But she did. 

It was never a problem for her. Not in the way it had been for Lionel. She was careful. Always measured. She could go months without it. She didn’t rely on it when she had a bad day. She was normal. She was free. She could drink socially or alone or just because and she was fine. She’s always been fine. Because she never knew how to be anything else. 

She thinks of him now. Lionel. Standing in her doorway at night, an inscrutable look on his face as she wondered whether or not he was coming to tuck her in. He never did. Sometimes he just stood there. Sometimes he flipped the light switch. It’s the closest he ever came to any sort of fatherly gesture. But she holds onto her glass and swirls the liquid and she remembers him. Even though she wishes she didn’t. 

-

Funny you should mention mirror fic, really. Since I'm not writing it. Just as you aren't writing part 2. But somehow there are 2700 words in a doc and I'm not sure how they got there. But so you know what you're not getting yourself into -

Kara doesn’t know where she comes from. Only that she’s been there for as long as she can remember. Since she was a child landing in a strange world more than a century ago. Since she first felt gentle blades of grass tickling the soles of her feet. Since the first time she lifted a car with one hand, uncaring if anyone saw.

She doesn’t know her name. Has never heard her speak. But she’s become a constant through the years. A face in a crowd Kara has memorized. A sharp jaw and a pensive stare. Teeth pressing down on a plump bottom lip with a troubled furrow between her brow whenever Kara found herself in a sticky situation.

She’s never thought to ask questions, really. She knows the lore. Her adoptive sister made sure of it. Though looking back on it now, she thinks it may have been something Alex did just to scare her. Another form of sibling rivalry that this planet is so fond of. But all those nights sneaking out on the roof did teach her something. And after so much time spent observing humanity, she can tell which are light and which aren’t. And with her senses amplified in the way they are, she can hear heartbeats. Hear the absence of them. That alone will tell her who they are, even if nothing else will.

The woman is a demon. Of that, Kara is certain. Though she doesn’t behave like any she’s ever encountered before. All humans have a demon counterpart meant to protect them. And while Kara doesn’t routinely run into them on her weekly shopping trip, her line of work does tend to get a bit messy. Innocents are occasionally caught in the crossfire. And she’s found herself on the other side of that typical demonic stare a few too many times. Lips snarled, teeth bared as if ready to sink into her throat at a moments notice.

But over time, Kara has noticed another side to them. One not quite as sinister. It isn’t that demons are designed to instill fear in the hearts of their enemies. Demons are designed to be the opposite of what they are. The more pure a person is, the more terrifying their counterpart becomes. There’s a balance to it. One that isn’t often seen by the human eye. Truthfully, they’re all so well versed in pretending, now. They go to church and coach little league and recycle. And everyone just assumes that the darkest sides of them lay in wait somewhere. But they’re wrong.

Thanks for the ask, my friend!

[eleemosynecdoche]

Touhou Character Ages, an imperfect and incomplete and provisional guide:

Part 1: Over a thousand years old.

Eirin Yagokoro: predates the formation of Japan (Omoikane is the child of the primordial creation god Takamimusubi in the Kojiki), so depending on how you date this, she could be over 130 million years old (beginning of the subduction of the Izanagi Plate) or as young as 2 million years old (date Honshu, Kyushu, and Shikoku separated from the mainland). Neo-Traditionalism of Japan says 25 million years for the Izanagi Object mentioned.

Hisami Yomotsu: A yomotsu-shikome with a grape motif, she presumably is one of those who chased Izanagi and would be of a similar age, 25 million years or so.

Keiki Haniyasushin: Haniyasu is another god from Izanagi Times.

Junko: Her euhemerized backstory with Hou Yi places her as dating back to the Xia, traditionally dated as ruling 4000-3800 years ago.

Chang'e: Must be at least as old as Junko.

Yukari Yakumo: Of uncertain age, definitely 1200+(Merry's age at time of disappearance) thanks to Akyuu, implied to be the oldest youkai in Gensokyo and thus would have to be older than Tewi, so a minimum of about 3000 years old.

Hecatia Lapislazuli: attested to by Hesiod in the Theogony, is already an established mythological figure, at least 2700 years old and probably significantly older.

Suwako Moriya: Older than Kanako by their backstory, and a Jōmon goddess. At least 2300 years old if we use the current dating for the end of the Jōmon period, 2700 if we use the traditional date for the arrival of Jimmu, probably much older.

Tewi Inaba: If she's literally the Rabbit of Inaba, then she's as old as Ōkuninushi and thus older than Kanako.

Sagume Kishin: A Kojiki figure from the same period of heavenly gods conquering Japan. In the same age bracket as Tewi and Kanako at minimum, quite possibly older.

Kanako Yasaka: Dates back to the conquest of Japan by the heavenly gods. At least 2700 years old with a slightly euhemerized interpretation, possibly older.

Seiga Kaku: Might be as old as the Eastern Han (so 2000-1800 years old), given esoteric Taoism being popular then, but more likely is visually intended to be from the Tang, another period for esoteric Taoism. She must be old enough to be an established corrupt immortal when she met Miko, though. So at least 1400, probably at least 1500 years old.

Okina Matara: From her comments on Eternity Larva, she was Hata no Kawakatsu and so appeared sometime in between the years 509 and 571, though quite possibly had some kind of preexistence as Matarajin. Definitely older than Miko.

Eternity Larva: The tokoyo god's cult was defeated and exposed by Hata no Kawakatsu.

Toyosatomimi no Miko: Has a defined birthday (February 7th, 574) from being a historical figure and so turned 1,449 this year.

Mononobe no Futo: Contemporary of Miko.

Soga no Tojiko: Contemporary of Miko.

Hata no Kokoro: Made by Miko for Okina.

Saki Kurokoma: Was Miko's horse before she was sent to the Asuka period glue factory and became an animal realm gangster.

Watatsuki no Toyohime: Eirin's pupil before she left in exile, older of the two sisters, almost certainly much older than this.

Watatsuki no Yorihime: Younger than Toyohime by definition but the rest applies as well.

Kaguya Houraisan: Definitely existed for some time before being exiled to Earth when Fujiwara no Fuhito was alive. At least 1400 years old, almost certainly much older.

Fujiwara no Mokou: Presumably a child of Fujiwara no Fuhito and thus about 1340-50 years old.

Minamitsu Murasa: Had been a phantom for enough time to become a local legend before Byakuren arrived. At least 1100 years old.

Byakuren Hijiri: Sister of Myouren, who lived in the 9th century. At least 1100 years old.

Shou Toramaru: Follower of Byakuren, must be of roughly similar age.

Ichirin Kumoi: Follower of Byakuren, must be of roughly similar age.

Nazrin: Attendant of Vaisravana/Bishamonten, is at least of similar age to Shou and possibly older.

Nue Houjuu: At least 900 years old going by her being the nue Minamoto no Yorimasa shot at, but knew Murasa and so is at least old enough to have interacted with her before Byakuren's followers got jailed.

Suika Ibuki: Fought the ara ara lady with balloon tits from Fate franchise media, which makes her at least 1000 years old. At least a little older, most likely.

Kasen Ibaraki: Contemporary of Suika.

Yuugi Hoshiguma: Contemporary of Suika.

Aya Shameimaru: Over a thousand years old according to PoFV.

I can't help but feel I'm missing some.

[truecrimecrystals]

Misty Faulkner has been missing since January 14th, 2011. The then-29-year-old lived with her grandparents in Eucha, Oklahoma. On the day she vanished, Misty went to work as usual and then went to a local Wal-Mart to buy groceries. Later that evening, Misty’s grandparents saw her arrive back at their home – but she was talking on the phone and did not immediately enter the house. About an hour later, Misty still had not come back inside. Her grandfather went to check on her and noticed that her car was still there, but Misty herself was nowhere to be found. The groceries she had just purchased, along with her cell phone and wallet, were left inside the vehicle. Misty has never been seen or heard from again. Misty's loved ones have never believed that she went missing on her own accord. Her family members do not believe she would abandon her two sons, nor would she voluntarily stay out-of-touch. Over the years, investigators have chased many leads, but unfortunately nothing has panned out. In 2017, it was reported that the Delaware County's Sheriff's Office has been "investigating [Misty's] case as a homicide from the beginning even though there's no evidence she's dead." Other than that, very little information about the investigation has been revealed. Misty's disappearance remains unsolved. Her family members are still desperately hoping to find answers. If you have any information that could help the investigation, please contact the Delaware County Sheriff's Office at 918-253-2700.

[wo-bu-hui-shuo-zhongwen]

langblr reactivation challenge week 3!

Day 2: Write about a festival or holiday that is celebrated in a country that speaks your target language. This can be either something you’ve celebrated yourself, have wanted to participate in, or have never heard of before. You can write this in any language you’d like.

شم النسيم

Sham Ennessim

This is a spring festival with a long history that's specific to Egypt! It is also non-denominational, mainly celebrating the arrival of spring as opposed to any religious event, and is celebrated by both Coptic Christian and Muslim citizens.

The origin of Sham Ennessim is in the ancient, Pharaonic-period (2700 BCE) festival of Shemu. In writings by the Roman Plutarch in the 1st century CE, the rituals at the time included offering lettuce, dried and salted fish, and onions to the local gods. After Egypt became Christian, the festival's timing aligned well with Easter Sunday - causing the festival to moved to the day after Easter Sunday in the Eastern Orthodox calendar (which is also used by the Coptic Church in Egypt today).

When the Islamic Empire extended to Egypt and the Egyptians increasingly converted to Islam and began speaking Arabic, the named morphed from Shemu -> Shom Ennisim (Coptic) -> to the Arabic Sham Ennesim. It roughly translates to "smelling the breeze" in Egyptian Arabic.

The holiday is celebrated nowadays by picnicking outdoors, enjoying fairgrounds and outdoor games, and eating traditional foods of fisikh (fermented and salted fish which takes a year of preparation and curing), lettuce, and green onions, all of which have symbolic meanings to the history of Egypt. Stuffed vine leaves are also a modern popular snack for picnicking on the holiday. Boiled, colored eggs are also prepared as a sign of rebirth in spring.

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