#my assignment is to help you people with all the assignments maintain sanity

[jamiesfootball]

@sighonaraa I couldn’t find drowsy : (

here is a different post-sleepy scene. have some platonic cuddles.

Between the early hour and a bastardization of new and old sensations, there was a handful of time after Roy woke up where he couldn't piece together what the fuck happened.

The dry pounding in his head was familiar; the ache behind his eyes, not. The stiffness in his knee, an old neighbor. The warmth of another body stuffed up against his chest like a greedy teddy bear, new and important.

Between falling asleep and waking up, Jamie had burrowed his face into Roy's shoulder.

For a delirious moment Roy considered just being done with it and renaming it Jamie's shoulder -- it was the same one every time.

Even the smell of his hair was familiar now; the same way that he knew his sister by the smell of antiseptic and his niece by the smell of her strawberry shampoo, he could pick out the woodsy notes of Jamie's obscenely expensive hair products. A wave of relief rolled through him at the very clear signal that, whatever else had been going on, Jamie at the very least had been taking care of himself like he promised.

And then reality tilted slightly to the left and slipped back into focus.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Turn It Up When You're Gone (1/2)

Starting my fic migration off with a bang! This is by far my most popular work on AO3, because people be horny. Delta Squad/Republic Commando girlies, come get y'all juice!

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Sev x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.9k

Summary: You are a GAR analyst, and your job is to process clone trooper helmet feeds. Being surrounded by incredibly handsome, competent troopers makes it hard to keep a professional distance, but you've managed. Until now.

Warnings: SMUT; voice kink, praise kink, body worship

Next chapter | Masterlist

You love your job. As a GAR tactical analyst assigned to the Venator-class Star Destroyer Guarlara, you spend your days immersed in clone trooper helmet feeds. It might seem boring or tedious to some, but with your keen eye for detail and extensive knowledge of tactics, it is as close to a perfect occupation as you can imagine.

Besides, the clones are pretty entertaining. You always love the snippets of banter that pop up in their comm feeds, from gallows humor, to good-natured mockery, to genuine awe or delight at a new planet. Seeing the galaxy from the perspectives of these men, who have seen too little of beauty and too much of the chaos and horror of war in their short lives, gives you a new appreciation for its wonders.

At first, you try to maintain some professional distance from the troopers, if only to preserve your sanity when so many of them are lost in each engagement, and you have the responsibility of watching as their helmet feeds fade to black. But it isn’t easy. The battlefield camaraderie you witness in their feeds continues onboard the Guarlara, and you can’t help being pulled into it. You make friends with a few clones, and every time they go on a mission, you hold your breath until they come back safely.

It doesn’t help your resolve to keep them at arm’s length that you are surrounded by incredibly handsome, competent soldiers in peak physical condition. Several of your fellow nat-born analysts have already had flings with clones, and by all accounts, the experience is worth the risk of official reprimands or even demotions. You haven’t done it yourself—yet—but you’ve been tempted.

And the temptation just got one thousand times stronger.

A new clone commando unit has been temporarily assigned to the Guarlara: Delta squad. Regular clone banter is entertaining, but the Deltas are on a whole different level. Boss is all business, and Fixer is quiet and by-the-book, but Scorch and Sev are hilarious. You often have to bite your lip to keep from bursting into unprofessional laughter at their antics, even as you are blown away by their tactical prowess.

You find yourself saving the Delta feeds for the end of your work cycle, just so you can finish your day on a high note. Sometimes, you wish you could get your hands on some Mantell Mix while you’re watching the feeds. They’re better than any holoflick you’ve ever seen. If only they could be released to the public; they would make a blockbuster action comedy.

But there’s another reason you are quickly becoming obsessed with the Delta feeds.

The first time you hear Sev’s voice, you gasp, and prickles run down your neck. He sounds different from the other clones: deep, gravelly, menacing. Incredibly sexy. You often find yourself replaying snippets of his comm feed, just so you can hear him speak. Whether he is making a dark joke, tallying his kills, or snarling at an enemy, his voice never fails to make you breathe a little faster.

You have never met the squad, never seen their faces, though you’ve seen them in their distinctive armor around the ship. The commandos mostly keep to themselves. You aren’t even sure which armor belongs to which commando, though you would bet every credit of your cycle’s pay that Sev is the one with the helmet painted to look like a bloody handprint. 

You know that the commandos were the same height as all the rest of the clones, but somehow, they seem larger. More solid. Far more intimidating. Maybe it is the armor, but you doubt it. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about what Sev looks like under all that bulky commando armor. Lying in your bunk during your sleep cycle, you picture him. Copper skin, curly black hair, eyes the color of amber. Hard, sculpted muscles. Broad shoulders, narrow hips that flex against yours, driving his thick cock deep inside you until you whimper his name. And of course, you imagine his voice: deep and dark, murmuring the filthiest words in your ear as he pounds into you with that incredible clone commando stamina.

When you meet up with your fellow analysts for lunch in the mess hall, you confess that a clone has finally caught your eye—or more correctly, your ear.

“He has the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard,” you say, keeping your volume low so as not to attract attention from the troopers eating at nearby tables or milling around in small groups.

“They all do,” laughs Drinna. “They’re clones!”

“This one is different,” you insist. “It’s so deep and growly. He sounds so… dangerous.”

Jeelee shivers next to you, and you don’t blame him. None of your friends can deny that the rush of adrenaline is at least a small part of their attraction to the clone troopers. There’s just something about a soldier who has been trained from birth to be a killing machine that activates your fight, flight, or fuck response.

“Stars, I never thought I’d get turned on listening to someone yelling, ‘Trando scum,’” you say with an uncertain laugh. “If it weren’t a massive security breach, I’d try to smuggle some of his feeds into my bunk for a little private viewing session.”

Drinna snorts with laughter, and the group hurries to finish the meal before you all have to get back to your stations to close out your work cycle.

---

Sev can’t believe his ears. He’s sitting in the mess staring at the empty table where you and your friends were just sitting. He’s off duty and wearing only his black body glove, which is why you don’t notice him sitting alone when your group takes the table next to his. But he notices you. How could he not? He’d spotted you the very first day he and the Deltas came aboard. 

He isn’t completely sheltered. He’s met nat-born GAR personnel before, including a few female officers. And he has made the rounds at 79’s during Delta squad’s all-too-rare shore leaves. But something about you grabs his attention. He first notices your laugh. You laugh a lot, and you do it with your whole body. Your eyes light up, your mouth opens in a delighted smile, your head tilts back, your shoulders shake, your tits bounce. One time, he saw you laugh so hard you had to lean against a wall for support when your knees gave out. It makes him want to be the one who makes you laugh.

His keen sniper’s eyes have also spotted you stealing glances at him and the rest of his squad when you pass in the hallways of the Venator. He’s seen you chatting amiably with other clones, and he wonders why you never try to talk to the Deltas. Maybe she’s intimidated, he thinks. He doesn’t blame you.

When he overhears you talking to your friends, he doesn’t think much about it. He just enjoys getting a little glimpse into your life. And then he hears it: “... turned on listening to someone yelling, ‘Trando scum.’ If it weren’t a massive security breach, I’d try to smuggle some of his feeds into my bunk for a little private viewing session.”

Sev nearly chokes on his nutrient paste, and for once, it’s not because of the flavor.

It’s me, he realizes. She’s talking about me.

All this time he’s been watching you, and now he knows you’ve been thinking about him. Getting off to his voice. Imagining him during your “private viewing sessions.” The thought of it has him semi-erect in the middle of the mess hall, with no armor to disguise his state. He spends a long time eating his nutrient paste.

---

The next time the Delta feeds update, you notice that Sev’s is a little longer than the other three. As usual, you save his feed for the last of your day. You take a quick look around to make sure nobody is watching, which is ridiculous, because this is literally your job. But you can’t help feeling a wicked little thrill as you queue up his feed, as though you are about to do something forbidden. You settle the headphones over your head and turn up the volume as you press play.

The holofeed isn’t what you expect. Instead of a battlefield or the inside of a gunship, you see a barracks filled with empty bunks. It looks spare and sterile. The bunks don’t even have pillows; just thin blankets and rough sheets. Your own quarters are austere, but at least you have the luxury of a door and a small refresher. You’ve never seen the inside of the clone barracks before, and you feel as though you are intruding on something private. You reach to scrub forward through the feed, but you halt when Sev’s voice crackles in your headphones.

“I heard a sexy little analyst say she likes my voice,” he says. “I have a present for her ‘private viewing sessions.’ If she comms me the code to her quarters, I’ll know she wants it.”

Oh, stars. He heard. He knows. And he knows who you are. If ever there were a time for the Guarlara to have a small hull breach and launch you into space, now would be the ideal moment! Your heart beats so hard you are sure everyone around you can hear it. You steal a glance out of the corner of your eye, but none of your fellow analysts have noticed anything out of the ordinary. 

You send him a quick message. “RC-1207, this is the tactical analysis center. Your helmet feed flashed an error code during your most recent upload. The code is one-one-three-eight-four-echo-bravo. Please run a diagnostic and purge your helmet’s memory bank to prevent corrupted feeds.”

The reply comes almost instantly. “Copy that, tactical. Thanks for the code. That’ll help me track down what I’m looking for.”

You take a deep, shuddering breath, and turn your attention back to the feed. It cuts to the hallway of the Venator as Delta squad heads out for a mission, and the comm feed is just more of their usual banter, followed by their day’s activities in the battlefield.

You scrub back to the beginning of the feed and listen to it one more time before you trim the recording and upload it to the GAR server. You often have to cut out sections of feeds, so the missing section won’t raise any eyebrows, but Sev could get in huge trouble if anyone higher up the command chain saw the original recording.

With shaky hands, you tidy up your workstation as you do at the end of every work cycle. You straighten your uniform, joke with your friends, and head out of the analysis center. You meet up with a few clones in the corridor, and you make your way as a group to the mess hall, where you complain about the bland rations and make plans for your next shore leave. When you’re confident that you haven’t aroused suspicion, you stretch and tell your friends that you’re going to turn in early. 

You barely restrain yourself from running through the halls to your quarters. You key in your door code with fumbling hands, and once inside, you spot it immediately: a datachip lying innocently on your pillow. You plug it into your personal player. There’s no holo, but Sev’s voice rumbles through your headphones.

“Get comfortable, beautiful. I want this to be good for you.”

You gasp. You pause the recording and strip out of your uniform in record time, flinging it across your cramped quarters to lie rumpled on the floor. Crawling into bed, you slide naked under your blanket and pull the headphones back over your ears.

“That’s my good girl. Are you naked? Kriff, I hope so. You look hot as hell in your uniform. You must be the prettiest karking thing in the galaxy out of it. All that soft, smooth skin. I want you to feel yourself for me, little one. Run your fingers through your hair. Is it as soft as it looks? Does it smell as good as I imagine?”

Oh, sweet gods, he’s been imagining you, too. You wonder if he has been picturing you when he touched himself. Arousal licks up your spine, tinged with a tiny bit of disappointment that you hadn’t made a move sooner. You push the thought aside, determined to enjoy this moment.

“Now I want you to touch your skin. Slide your hands up and down your body, your arms, your thighs. Cup your tits. Give your nipples a little squeeze. Do you like that?”

You nod, biting your lip and breathing hard. You imagine Sev’s hands, rough and strong and big, and your hand drifts down your belly.

“Don’t touch your cunt, sweetheart. Not yet. I don’t want you to rush this.”

Force, it’s like he’s there with you, watching you, instead of away on some Maker-forsaken planet blasting droids. You obey his pre-recorded commands, wanting to get the full experience.

“Brush your fingers over your neck. Do it gently, like you can feel me whispering in your ear instead of a recording. Touch your mouth, baby. Gods, I wish it was me. Would you lick my fingers? I wonder what you taste like. I bet you taste amazing. Sweet, soft lips, wet little tongue. Fierfek, you make me so hard I could nut right fucking now. How kriffed up is it that I’m jealous of your hands?”

Your breath stutters as you hear another sound in the recording: the rhythmic slide of skin against skin. Oh stars, he is getting off on this, too. Or he already got off. Whatever. You roll your hips instinctively, looking for stimulation.

“Damn it, Sev, let me touch myself,” you whisper.

But you don’t. Not yet. You wait for his permission. Instead, you writhe in the bed, sliding your hands all over your body, pinning your hips to the mattress, touching yourself everywhere except the place you so desperately need.

“If I were with you, I’d take my time. Explore your whole body inch by inch. I would kiss you, and taste you, and suck on your tits until you beg for more. I’d bite your sexy ass and then kiss it better. I’d eat that pretty little pussy until you scream for me. Oh, fuck—” He panted for a moment. “Sorry, honey, I needed a minute to cool down or I was gonna blow early. I don’t want you to think I’m not up to the mission. Because right now, you are my mission. And you know that the mission always comes first.”

You can’t help it: you giggle. It’s endearingly cheesy, but you suspect it’s also true. Once Sev has you to himself—because you have no doubt that he will, and soon—he is going to give you the ride of your life.

“Have you been a good girl for me? Did you touch your pussy before I said you could?”

You shake your head. “Please, please, Sev, I need it.”

“I think you have been a good girl, and now you deserve your reward. I want you to touch your cunt, angel. Just brush your fingertips over it, nice and easy. Are you wet? Kark, I hope so, otherwise I’m doing this wrong. Slip your fingers inside, just a little. Get them nice and slick. Now I want you to play with your clit. Do what you like best, baby. Go hard, or go soft. Rub it in circles, or give it a little tap, or press on it nice and slow. I can’t wait to find out what makes you scream. Do you like it when I suck on your clit? Or maybe you like it a little rougher. Do you want me to slap you, pretty thing? Slap that beautiful little pussy and then lick it better? Or would you rather I go slow and gentle, just barely touching you, taking hours to build you up before I ruin you?”

You moan as you work yourself frantically. You are close, so close, and his voice is doing unholy things to you. You can hear him fucking his fist again, and it turns you on even more to know he is into this just as much as you are.

Sev’s breath grows ragged. “It’s gonna be so good when I fuck you. I know your cunt feels amazing. So tight and wet and warm—fuck—gonna be incredible. I can’t wait, I can’t kriffing wait—gods baby, gonna make me come—FUCK!”

He grunts, and it is loud. You can hear the wet spatter of his orgasm, and the sound of it pushes you over the edge. You feel the entire universe contract into your body, so tight, so hot, and then Fuck! The tension snaps, and you cry out as your body jerks and spasms. You gasp for air, twitching away from your own fingers as your hypersensitive body shudders. Your body is drained, your head is empty, every drop of energy in your being is utterly spent. Your eyes close, and you slip into oblivion.

---

Chapter 2

Tagging: @blueink-bluesoul

This compilation of lines from the Republic Commando game will never not be funny to me: https://youtu.be/WHXy-_mztg0

[yzeltia]

FFXIVwrite2024 4. Reticent

Characters: Y'zel Tia, Y'shtola Rhul Expansion: Dawntrail Rating: G Summary: Y'zel is made to hear, feel, think Notes: No smoochies here. Are you proud of me?

“You are changed.”

Y’zel didn’t look up as Y’shotla stood before him, lazily separating his research notes from his students’ homework assignments. “Hm…have I?”

“I suppose it’s a mixed blessing. I don’t readily miss your mewling over your paramour’s, but I do feel the absence of your company,” Y’shtola said, pouring them tea before sitting down across from Y’zel at his desk. “Though, I suppose being the Doman Consort does keep you far from home.”

Y’shtola closed her eyes as she lifted her saucer so that she could take a cautious sip of her tea. Meanwhile Y’zel mostly ignored the gesture for a moment, straightening his paperwork before removing his glasses and leaning back in his seat with a sigh. “Home is it now? I cannot think of any one place I’ve stayed long enough to dub ‘home’.”

“And here I am the romantic one with the sentiment of home not being a residence but where the people they care for are. Perhaps, I too, have changed,” Y’shtola said, absently brushing her ear, or more accurately the earring upon it.

Y’zel didn’t respond, eyes attempting to avoid his cousin’s gaze as he idly fingered at the paperwork on his desk, only focusing upon her out of habit and necessity to read her lips. He opened his mouth briefly, almost finding himself rudely asking ‘Is that all?’; however, he decided it was best not to hurry her off and give cause to worry. “I am as I always have been. My mind is just full and my responsibilities continue to stack up before me.” 

Y’shtola shook her head. “I cannot, nor care to, imagine what mental gymnastics it takes to maintain your dual lives and keep your sanity. I can only ask as someone who cares for you to ensure you’re taking care of yourself. You’ve always had a way of…contorting yourself into a situation rather than seeing how or if you can fit into it naturally.”

The notion hung in the air, Y’zel flicking his ears back a little in annoyance as he was given unsolicited council. Still, he could not dismiss the observation made. Shifting uncomfortably in his chair he sat up and finally moved to nurse his tea. Y’shtola tapped her finger lightly against her mostly empty cup as she looked around the small office before setting it on the table. “I’ve interrupted enough of your time checking in. I should get back to the Annex and see what more Krile needs of me before she departs for Tural.”

“Tural?”

“Yes, Tural. It seems the New World has taken a keen interest in our friends. Tural’s Dawnservant has opened its borders to us to observe their Rite of Succession. My interests keep me here so I’ve not made plans to join the envoy, but I imagine it should prove enriching for those curious of distant cultures. At the very least it’ll help foster global citizenship post Final Days.”

With that, Y’shtola stood then walked from the room, leaving Y’zel to turn to a map of Hydaelyn and think.

[pattern-recognition-hypotheses]

This has been on my mind a lot, and every trans fem person I’ve said it to has realized they do struggle with this, so I’m going to share here.

Posting here because I expect this to piss some people off & don’t want it directly associated with my main.

I’ll make this as anonymous as possible, because some of it began from a conversation with an in-person/IRL friend whom I’m living with, & I don’t want to expose them. But apart from that piece of context, I’ll address the general trans community, especially our trans fem siblings & sisters (& any other term y’all may prefer).

Also getting this out of the way up front, I am trans myself. I am not speaking from outside the trans community, though I am speaking from a trans masculine / nonbinary experience.

I have a lot of trans fem friends now (mostly nonbinary, by coincidence), & saw the (often (unfortunately) necessary) assumptions that cis women & AFAB people made/had to make as I grew up. I watched AFAB folks & women assume things about men*, & heard them speak to the horrible things some entitled men did to them. I’ve been listening to my trans fem friends & asking questions about their experience with femininity, & about how men treat them if they pass.

(* though our society makes it necessary (for your own safety & sanity), if you’re AFAB, to assume the worst & hope for the best¹ - I want to make it clear that I’m not invalidating anyone here, especially as someone who had to assume the same things. I’m using the word assume to mean that we didn’t know for certain every single man would be of this type, not that many men weren’t this type)

(¹ not to say men can’t be SAed by other men, or that queer SA doesn’t exist, because it does. I’m simply speaking from my experience here, & speaking to the binary white supremacist patriarchal society we’re trapped in, not trying to speak over folks with queer trauma or to invalidate other people who distrust men)

~~~~

Important Note: I marked this with a community label not because it involves trans people (especially trans fem folks & trans women), but because it explicitly includes sex mentions (having to do with touch starvation & social conditioning). I want to make that clear due to the transphobia online, even from trans masc folks / trans men. Trans woman & trans fem people are not inherently sexual or bad, & don’t need a ‘mature’/sexual warning label.

~

I am probably over-explaining here (all the clarifications above), but I’d rather over-explain than have someone take my post & words to support their transphobic rhetoric. I also want my fellow trans & queer people to feel seen and supported, as much as I am capable of.

Now, onto the pattern I’ve been noticing & starting to share with people.

~~~~

I was talking to my roommate (they/she) about their struggle with finding friends & romantic partners that last. They struggle to make & maintain friendships, & I’m trying to help when requested/desired.

She said “not to support transphobic rhetoric about being unable to escape your assigned gender at birth, but I feel like there’s a biological...something that makes me unable to connect with people the way I want to”. She struggles with sex addiction that she doesn’t want, & they were worried it was inescapable.

With other conversations we’ve had, and with my pattern recognition, I made a leap.

“It’s not biological, it’s social. It’s baked into our [United Statesian] culture.

It’s because [most] assigned-male people in our society aren’t allowed to have platonic affection. If you’re affectionate with men, you’re gay. If you’re affectionate with women, you wanna fuck her or you’re a pervert. Being assigned male means, especially to Christian men, that you crave sex and wouldn’t be affectionate with anyone of any gender if that wasn’t on your mind.”

Most men & AMAB people become sex addicted because it’s the only form of affection they’re allowed to have. They’re told they’re unmanly (a pussy, not a real man, etc.) if they want to be held or to cry, or accused of being gay for holding a man.

They’re affection starved, touch starved. They’re actually craving intimacy, which doesn’t have to be sexual.

That said, tying this back in to trans folks—

Trans women & trans feminine people, especially on HRT but post social transition too, are often pointed out (or even shamed) for having a “hoe phase”. The pattern I see is that this doesn’t just happen because they’re finally being sexualized as their true self, it’s also because they don’t tend to seek out platonic affection &/or don’t think they deserve any.

When I pointed out to my roommate & to another trans fem friend, they broke down crying.

“If I seek out platonic affection, I’m always called a pervert,” my roommate explained. “I don’t feel like I’m allowed to ask.”

I asked how long it’s been since they’ve been platonically held. They thought about it, then came back with something heartbreaking: “I was five. After that, my dad decided it wasn’t cute anymore. ‘That’s little kid shit’. I had affection and then it was ripped away from me.”

I suspect other trans fem folks & trans women have the same struggle. They didn’t get platonic affection at all, or had it ripped away from them at a young age. They were accused of wanting sex if they touched anyone at all. They were attacked with homophobic slurs (faggot, gay, etc. as slurs) or accused of being gay if they reached for a man. They were brushed off as immature, childish, or overly feminine if they wanted platonic affection.

I don’t believe this applies to everyone, but it’s a heartbreakingly high number.

I hope this helps someone like it helped my roommate. She now knows what she wants to search for, and they’re succeeding at finding connections that meet those needs. I hope you can find people who respect your need for affection & offer you platonic affection.

Just like cis women, y’all aren’t sexual toys or objects (without your consent, not kink shaming). You’re people, and your feelings do matter. (/sincere)

And to my fellow trans masc people & trans men, please offer affection to your trans fem friends (don’t force it obv). Let them know they deserve affection.

We can fight this together— we’re stronger together. 💜

[jigujellee]

THROUGH WITH YU -> karina yu hates your guts and you don't really know why. | read part 2 here!

karina x reader angst word count: 3.8k warnings: there might be a swear word or two, nothing crazy

a/n: wow, another fic in less than 2 weeks? who is she? lol i'm jk but the first part to the karina enemies to lovers college au is here! there's only two parts, so hopefully, i should be able to get it out soon. don't worry, i'm also working on the requests you've all sent me so please look out for those. take care everyone, thanks for reading!

smu was home to numerous intelligent and hard working students who were slowly losing their sanity every day in order to achieve their future. if they weren’t burying their faces in their laptops or textbooks, students were drowning themselves in caffeine as they desperately try to work through the hell known as university. it’s definitely not easy for most, but then there are people like karina who make the university life look so easy.

karina yu graduated from kwangya high as valedictorian and received a full grant scholarship at smu where she is now a biomedical student with a dream to pursue a career in medicine. she also manages to maintain the top spot in the entire school while being the captain of the swim team and balances a part time job. the girl’s credentials are unmatched, you’d think she doesn’t have a social life but no. everybody and their grandmothers know exactly who karina is, and with a god given face, brain, and talent like hers, who wouldn’t be drawn to her? dubbed as the campus goddess, she captures the hearts of anyone who glances her way. karina could care less about the title though. she was nice to everyone she encountered and remained humble despite being treated like royalty at school. so when everyone’s attention is focused on something else, or rather someone else, karina suddenly becomes intrigued.

“alright class, that wraps it up for today. don’t forget, your assignments on DNA mutagenesis are due next Friday so i hope most of you have at least started on it”

as soon as the campus goddess finished typing up her last few notes, she sets a quick reminder for herself to finish the references for the assignment. karina’s work ethic was something every student dreamed to have in a perfect world, hence why it isn’t uncommon for students to ask her for help every now and then. her best friend ningning is a perfect example of these said students.

“so you’re going to help me with my assignment, right?” the blonde says, not even sparing a glance to karina as her eyes remained glued on her phone.

“ning, why do you still have to ask? i’ve been helping you with your assignments since we were in high school. but let me remind you that you’re smart enough to do it on your own. maybe if you spent less time on your phone, you would’ve gotten it done early”

“thanks for the ted talk but you know i gotta stay updated with the tea around here”

“right, so what’s new gossip girl hm?”

“well, jeno recently got injured after their last basketball game so he’s sitting out for the next few. then there’s yeji and ryujin who got into a pretty nasty fight and people are saying they still haven’t talked it out”

“isn’t it gonna be their 3 year anniversary in a few weeks? i hope they resolve things soon”

“well well well, would you look at that? seems like someone is fairly updated too” ningning chuckles and finally tears her eyes away from the phone to find karina putting her stuff away into a tote bag.

“you live and breathe tea and drama, and unfortunately, i’m the only one who has to hear all of it since i’m pretty much the only friend you have,” karina jokes.

“you make me laugh miss yu,” her best friend says dryly as rolls her eyes and continues to scroll through her phone once more. “oh, and there’s a new student coming in today. apparently they’re coming all the way from canada,” ningning turns off her phone and grabs her bag before sticking her arm out so that karina could link arms with her. the latter didn’t care much about the new transferee, not with her empty stomach practically ringing in her ears.

“yeah yeah whatever, let’s go grab lunch. i’m starving” she links her arms with ningning and the two make their way to the campus cafeteria.

they were greeted with crowds of students, which wasn’t a new sight to the two. almost all of campus knew karina ate in the cafeteria during lunch so they would always have an audience as they ate in peace. what was surprising to karina was that the students weren’t swooning over her like they usually do. instead, they were running right past her and making their way to the table where karina and ningning usually sat. confused, karina looks over at her best friend.

“why is everyone rushing to get over there? we’re not even there yet”

“you think i would know? i was beside you this entire time. but it looks like someone is sitting there already, i can’t see who it is though”

a girl in front of the two overhears their conversation before realizing who it was and immediately moves out of the way to let them pass. everyone else followed suit and the two manage to get a clear view of who was causing such a big crowd. they walk towards the table, but even as they get closer, they are unable to put a name to the face sitting in their usual spot.

as soon as they approached the unfamiliar person, ningning doesn’t hesitate to speak, “hi! i’m ningning and this is my friend karina!” the purple haired girl’s eyes widened at her friend’s sudden introduction, but not wanting to be rude, she just smiled and gave a small wave.

“hello! i’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you both” you say with a big smile plastered on your face.

“ah! you’re the new student, right? from canada?” you eagerly nod your head and continue to answer ningning’s never ending questions about your home country. meanwhile, the girl beside her stayed silent and just stared at you. you couldn’t tell what she was feeling, her face remaining stoic the entire time you were talking with her friend. you open your mouth to address her and try to include her in the conversation, but another student calls your name and invites you to eat lunch with them.

“karina and ningning usually sit here, so just sit with us for lunch” the student then whispered in your ear. you look back at the two girls and realize that they’ve been standing this entire time, so you immediately get up and allow them to sit at their respective table.

“well i’d be glad to answer your questions about canada some other time ning,” you chuckle. “i hope to see you both around more! sorry about taking your seat,” you say as your gaze lands on karina, who just quickly bows her head out of respect before taking a seat at the spot you were just in. ningning quickly hands you her phone for you to put your number in before letting you go. as you leave, you turn to take a look at the purple haired girl one more time.

you now understood why she was called the campus goddess.

-

funnily enough, the campus goddess wanted nothing to do with greek gods and goddesses, or any greek mythology in general. she hated history classes. the only reason she was taking it is because she needed an elective that wasn’t related to her major, so she chose ancient greek mythology and apparently, it was a really easy course. but even if this course was super easy, she got bored so easily. it was the only class that she rarely paid attention in and it made her want to fall asleep.

it doesn’t help that this class was a dreaded 3 hours of her professor going on and on about information that had nothing to do with what karina wanted to do with the rest of her life. oftentimes, her thoughts loved to wander off during class, and to her surprise, you are the one currently taking up space in her mind. karina couldn’t help but think about your smile, your dark brown eyes, your soft voice, the way your hair sat perfectly against-

“miss yu?” karina shakes her head and brings herself back to reality. was i really just thinking of the new student just now?

“sorry sir, what were you saying?”

“i asked which two groups fought during the battle of cynoscephalae?”

karina couldn’t bring herself to answer. she should know this, she did her readings on it so why couldn’t she remember? oh right, because some new girl was distracting her, that’s why.

“it was fought between the romans and the antigonids,” you spoke up after minutes of silence from karina. she looked back in shock, finding you three rows behind her. great, the person who’s been wrecking my train of thought is also in the same class as me.

you shoot her a wink with a smile, causing karina to immediately turn back around to the front, hoping you wouldn’t see her cheeks heating up out of embarrassment.

“that’s correct y/n, thank you. pay more attention karina, this isn’t like you”

“yes sir, it won’t happen again” karina sinks into her seat and groans internally for letting herself get distracted and embarrassing herself in front of you… and the class.

and now, she despised you for making her feel this way and decided that she wanted nothing to do with you.

so any attempt you made in trying to be her friend, whether it be buying her snacks, coffee, cup noodles, and even a whole cake, or trying to follow her on instagram and her other socials, karina shut all of it down. she couldn’t afford to be embarrassed like that anymore and she tried her best to avoid you, but she quickly learned that you were stubborn and you weren’t going to stop until you two were at least acquaintances.

“hi karina! i grabbed you a triangle kimbap and a choco pie in case you were hungry,” you hold out the snacks in front of her, hoping she’ll actually take them this time. but as usual, she just stares at them and her hands remain still by her side.

her eyes shift from your hands to your own eyes, and you could feel a bitter coldness being emitted from her dark brown orbs. “i’m going to make this very clear, y/n. i do not care who you are or where you came from, but i do not need you around me. buying me snacks is not going to get me to be friends with you, so drop the act. we are never going to be friends,” she says, words hitting you like a knife. your hands that are filled with snacks drop to your side as you watch the campus goddess walk away from you. from that moment on, you do your best to avoid her, hoping that you are finally giving her something she actually wants.

-

it’s only 9 in the morning, and karina is already having a horrible day.

“what? what do you mean i’m failing? that’s nearly impossible-”

“calm down karina, you’re not behind by much. with a little tutoring and some catch up assignments, you’ll be able to bring your grade up in no time,” her english professor says.

karina huffs in frustration. how could this happen? she swore she handed in all her essays on time and they were all done very well, so she had no idea how could she be failing the class.

“i asked the student who will tutor you to come in today so that i could introduce you two,” and as if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

“perfect timing. come in!”

karina doesn’t bother turning around to see who it was, still trying to rack her brain over how she could possibly be doing badly in english class.

“you wanted to see me professor lee?”

the purple haired girl’s eyes widened and her mouth falls slightly agape. she didn’t need to look at who it was; the voice said it all.

“thank you for coming, y/n! i wanted to introduce you to karina, have you met before?”

“yes, we share a few classes together” you say dryly.

you were aware that you had to tutor someone, but you didn’t know it’d be her. from where you were standing, you could see that she didn’t want to be in this setup either. she was avoiding your presence, putting all her attention onto the stack of papers on the professor’s desk and studying it as if it were the most intriguing thing in the world right now.

“with all due respect professor lee, i’m sure there are a number of other students who would be willing to help karina out. not to mention countless other students who speak english at a much higher level than i do, such as aeri, chaeyoung, jennie, yunjin, jisu, seungkwan.. need i list more?”

for the first time since entering the office, karina looks at you with a confused expression; she didn’t expect you to turn the opportunity down, not after all the nice things you’ve done for her just to be her friend. your focus remains on the professor as you wait for a reply, ignoring the other girl beside you who was trying to figure you out, the stack of papers on the desk now long forgotten.

“nonsense y/n, what better way to learn english than from someone who’s just transferred from canada? besides, english is your first language, correct?” you nod your head, unable to lie because the records were right there in front of the prof.

“then it’s settled! think of it as a way to get closer to one another. karina, i promise you won’t regret this and your grade will improve in no time! you two are dismissed, i’ll see you both on wednesday”

both of you bow your heads, and karina is the first one to get up and leave. you follow suit, rolling your eyes once you’re at the door because she didn’t even have the courtesy to hold it open for you. once you’re both outside of professor lee’s office, you’re about to retreat to your own dorm but karina stops you.

“hey”

you say nothing and just turn to look at her, waiting for her to continue what she wanted to say.

“2pm tomorrow at the library. don’t be late,” she says sternly.

with no ounce of emotion on your face, you turn around and leave the purple haired girl standing in front of the prof’s office.

you hoped this tutoring session will go somewhat smoothly.

-

no, it’s not going smoothly.

karina was the one who said not to be late, yet she’s the one who came almost 20 minutes late. she blamed it on ningning for asking her to accompany her while she talks to one of their other professors.

and now, karina hasn’t spoken a word to you since she got here. she didn’t bother asking for any clarification or any questions and just began working on her assignment, but you couldn’t care less. if she didn’t want to fix her grade, then so be it. you allowed yourself to enjoy this quiet time by catching up on your favourite book, but unfortunately, it doesn’t last long.

“here, check this for me”

you scan the paragraph writing assignment she had to do. with a pencil, you lightly circled her mistakes and even wrote down some comments on things that could be improved. when you hand it back to her, you watch as her eyes scan over the paper and she huffs in frustration. you continue to watch the campus goddess scribble onto her paper, erasing and rewriting things every other second. your eyes move to the paper and you notice her making the same mistake again.

“you did the same thing aga-”

“shut up, i got it” but even after she erases it, she does it again. this time, she realizes what she wrote.

“not a word, y/n”

“rina look, i just-”

“first of all, do not call me that. we’re not close, okay? and second, i don’t care that you were asked to help me. i just need to pass english and then i’m through with you,” without missing a beat, she continues writing her assignment.

you won’t lie, it hurt whenever karina dismissed you like that. you don’t even understand why she hated you so much. was it because you answered for her in class? or was it because you stole her seat on the first day? whatever it was, it still hurt. but if she was going to be like this towards you, then you figured you should be the same back.

and that’s how the rest of your tutoring sessions go. you both arrive at the library, not uttering a single word to each other. you immerse yourself in your book or in other school work, and you only say something if karina asks you. as you meet up more and more, however, you notice karina is slowly starting to ask more questions and actually initiate conversation but you always gave her a dry reply, not even bothering to look up at her as you answer. why should you? you were just here to help her.

after one of your tutoring sessions, you were walking back to your dorm when you suddenly receive a phone call. the caller ID was enough to make you decline the call, but you answer it anyway. you don’t bother saying hello, and just wait for the other party to say something.

“not even a hello? wow, who do you think you are?”

“what do you want?”

“jeez, what’s gotten into you? i just called to check up on you”

“i never asked you to check on me”

“god, you’re unbelievable. you should be thankful i’m even checking up on you even after what you did to your-”

“stop trying to act like my mother. you are not her and you will never be her, so just shut up and leave me alone,” you angrily say as you hang up, not letting her get a response in. you shove your phone back into your pocket and stormed off to your dorm, but you don’t notice the girl behind you who heard everything.

she didn’t mean to eavesdrop. if anything, she blames you for stopping in the middle of the hallway and answering the call, and even putting it on speaker phone. but she heard it either way, whether she wanted to or not. karina watched as you stomped away and she felt a heavy feeling in her chest - it was guilt. she’s been rude to you all this time when all you wanted was to be her friend. you even agreed to tutor her (though it was pretty much forced) and she was still acting like such a bitch to you. but after hearing the conversation, she couldn’t help but feel sad. she didn’t have the best relationship with her mom either, so in a way, she kind of related to you. she starts thinking that maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

-

a few more tutoring sessions and three assignments later, karina manages to get her grade back up. once she hears the good news from professor lee, she immediately goes to find you.

“y/n!”

you turn around to find an ecstatic and smiley purple haired goddess coming your way. she crashes into you and wraps her arms around you, but you just stand there and look straight ahead, leaving your arms glued to your side.

she finally lets go of you after what seemed like minutes of hugging, and she shoves a paper in front of your face.

“look! i got my grade back up, and it’s all thanks to you!”

“good. now we can go our separate ways,” you try to walk pass her, but she grabs your arm to stop you.

“wait! let me treat you to something to eat! as a thank you for helping me”

“i’ll pass,” and you try to walk by her again. she doesn’t stop you this time, but she starts following you instead.

“how about tomorrow? or next week? i’m free whenever, just let me kn-”

“what’s your deal, hm? why are you so nice to me all of a sudden? just because you got your grade up or what?”

karina’s smile fades and a nervous expression appears on her face, scared to tell you why she was acting this way. she fidgets with the paper in her hand, avoiding your gaze and biting her bottom lip.

“so what do you want?” you ask, trying to get an answer out of her.

“i..” she starts. “i overheard your phone call with your mom. i didn’t mean to, it’s just you were right there and you even put it on speaker phone so i just happened to hear everything..” you say nothing, and you wait for her to continue.

“i feel bad for how i’ve treated you all this time. the truth is, i get it. i know what you’re going through, and it’s okay to-”

“stop,” karina looks at you, and she looks scared but she’s not scared that you were angry, she knew you’re probably pissed at her. what was scaring her is the lack of emotion you were showing. she wanted you to scream at her, to cuss her out for being such a bitch, but instead you’re as calm as ever and it terrifies her to her core.

“she’s not my mother. that was my stepmom who tries way too hard to be my mother,” you say calmly. you start making your way to her, making sure that she hears what you have to say next loud and clear. once you're right in front of her, you continue.

“don’t act like you fucking know me just after hearing one phone call. if you’re being nice to me because you feel bad for me, then just save it. i don’t need your pity and i don’t need you around, got it? i’m through with you” you’re close enough to feel her breath on your lips, but you back away as soon as you’re done talking to her and you leave her in the middle of the hall with people were staring, but you didn’t care. you didn’t need karina or her pity, and the campus goddess got that message loud and clear. but it still hurt her. it hurt enough to make tears fall from her eyes, and karina rarely ever cries. she wipes away whatever tears were on her cheek and starts making her way to meet with ningning.

karina didn't want you to be through with her, but she deserved it. especially since she's the one who said it first.

[vannahfanfics]

Tea for Two

Word Count: 2550

Fluff, Romance, Quirkless AU, Coffee Shop AU, College AU

Summary: College student Ochako is suffering from insomnia. She takes a recommendation to visit a local coffee shop in search of herbal tea, but she ends up with much more...

Here’s my story for the @bnhabigbang2022! Be sure to check out the adorable art done by my partner @ceenimations​! 

Damn whoever invented compact mirrors. They are only a tool for obliterating women’s self-esteem, Ochako grumped as she stared at herself in the tiny circular mirror. More specifically, she was staring at the dark, pudgy bags hanging under her weary eyes like ten-ton weights. She’d tried everything she could think of to hide them, even raiding Mina’s expensive skincare and make-up set in her desperation, but nothing could hide them from the world. They hung like black curtains from the bottom of her eyelids, an unrelenting reminder that Ochako had probably slept a grand total of four hours in the last three days. 

Ochako had been prepared to sacrifice the finer things in life, such as sleep, when she decided that she wanted to go to university. Hell, pulling at least one all-nighter was practically a rite of passage, and Ochako had been eager to cement herself as a bonafide university student. But what they failed to mention was how absolutely grueling it was, and that there was no such thing as one all-nighter. Once you started, you couldn’t stop because things piled up on you like the professors were trying to bury you alive. Ochako had somehow clawed her way out of the mountain of work suffocating her to emerge victorious and at the top of the class for the quarter, but it mattered not. 

Ochako’s sleep schedule was completely and utterly fucked. She’d finally caught up on all her assignments and was ready to abandon the adrenaline- and coffee-fueled existence as a regular student and embrace the distinction as a good noodle. But when the time came, sleep didn’t come. Ochako could only waste away the hours staring at her ceiling and cursing every second of her miserable existence. 

She was ready to just accept her fate of permanent sleep deprivation until hope came in the form of the gracious, the compassionate, the indelible Momo Yaoyorozu. 

“Oh, I know exactly what you need!” she gushed to Ochako as the girl tried to maintain her sanity through a double shot of pure espresso. “There’s a café down the road that boasts an excellent selection of teas. You should go there on Wednesday when Hitoshi Shinso is working. He’s helped loads of people with sleeping problems, anxiety, and so much more. He’ll fix you up with exactly what you need!” 

Ochako was willing to try drugs to get herself to sleep at this point, but some nice relaxing tea sounded pretty nice, too. So, after class on Wednesday, she trudged down the street to the quaint little café in search of the supposed miracle worker, Hitoshi Shinso. Ochako honestly didn’t expect much, despite the many, many testimonies she’d heard over the last twenty-four hours. But hey, at least she would get a nice cup of tea out of it. 

Except she’d caught sight of the man in question through the window, and he was so disgustingly dreamy that she was now lamenting her choice to go with “comfort casual” and really play up the whole sleep-deprived gremlin look. Ochako snapped her compact closed with a heavy sigh and looked once more through the window at the man standing idly behind the counter. Lavender locks that looked silk to the touch, amethyst eyes that glimmered with mirth, a lazy smile on his lips as he listened to his blond-haired coworker chatter about something—ugh, what a hottie! She didn’t know if it was better that she had good vision and read his nametag from the sidewalk, or if she would have rather gone in and made the crushing realization that she looked like trash in front of the person she needed to talk to when it was already too late. If Ochako wasn’t desperate, she would race home and at least doll herself up before going in. 

But Ochako was desperate, and so despite the lousy hand that fate had dealt her that day, she walked into the café. Whatever intentions she had of mentally preparing herself for the encounter were dashed by the bell attached to the door, which chimed pleasantly above her head. She froze in the entryway, the door swinging behind her and closing with a soft clunk. 

“Welcome,” Hitoshi called. Oh, Ochako had read about voices being as smooth as honey in romance novels, but this was the first time that the metaphor ever had merit in her eyes. The word literally dripped from his tongue, so rich and sticky that it had her rooted to the spot. Hitoshi smiled pleasantly at her. He might as well have shot her in the heart, the devil, because she nearly collapsed right then and there. But her body knew what it needed, and so it propelled her to the counter even while her brain was laying in a puddle of goop at the door from having melted out through her ears. 

“How can I help you?” 

Hug me. Kiss me. Love me. Ochako knew that it was just the exhaustion-induced delirium talking, but she still had enough sense to blush. She tried to hide it with her hands while still seeming nonchalant, but all she succeeded in doing was fluttering her hands awkwardly around her face. Oh, and now he was smirking, a lavender eyebrow arching playfully. 

“I, um, I heard that you know what tea is good for insomnia,” she mumbled finally. 

“Ah. Momo’s singing my praises again, is she?” Hitoshi chuckled. She already knew that the two were familiar with one another, but a spark of jealousy shot through her body anyway. Oh, what did she have to be jealous of? She’d just met the guy! 

She must have looked downright pathetic because Hitoshi smiled sympathetically at her. 

“Wait right here. I’ll get somethin’ fixed up for ya,” he winked and slapped his palm against the counter. 

Ochako just melted against the counter with a dreamy, “Okay~” Oh, she was shamelessly staring now. She couldn’t help it. Hitoshi moved with the grace and fluidity of an angel—unharried, but with a sense of quiet confidence that had electricity zinging up and down Ochako’s spine. How was it that a man could make something as mundane as picking out teabags seem so utterly magical? She didn’t know what to look at—the profile of his serene face as his lavender eyes scanned the boxes, his lithe and dextrous fingers as they skimmed the cardboard, his wavy pale purple locks as they caught the light of the fluorescents. Everything about him was just stunningly handsome, and her poor baggy eyes just didn’t know what to focus on. 

So she flagrantly gawked at as much as him as she could. 

“All right then.” When Hitoshi suddenly spoke, Ochako scrambled to stand up and act like she hadn’t just been drooling all over the counter. Her arms flailed out, and she could only watch in dismay as the floppy sleeve of her oversized sweater caught on a piece of metal sticking out from the woven metal pencil container. Both she and Hitoshi watched with wide eyes as the cup lurched with the motion of her arm, tipping to the side and spilling the writing utensils all over the counter. She blinked, watching a pencil roll slowly over the counter. She then slowly raised her head to gape at Hitoshi. 

“Erm… Sorry.” 

“No problem,” he chuckled and walked back up to the counter. He flipped the cup back over and replaced the pencils and pens into it, one by one. Ochako was a little bit grateful for her screw-up; now she could watch just a few more of those elegant movements. She found herself slumping a little, eyes growing lidded with heady contentment. “Now then—your tea.” 

“R-right,” she stammered, jerking into a non-slouching position again. Hitoshi’s smile twitched a little further across his face, which made Ochako’s heart thump against her chest. Did that mean something? No, she was just reading too much into it! She was totally out of it! The tea, she should focus on the tea… and not his totally gorgeous smile… 

“This is a blend of chamomile, lavender, and passionflower. Totally great for alleviating anxiety and helping you sleep,” he explained as he set a bag of mixed dried herbs and petals in front of her. “Our café doesn’t use bags because there’s recent research that they can leach microplastics. Do you have a tea steeper?” 

Ochako shook her head, and Hitoshi reached under the counter to procure a small silver piece of metal with what looked like a little fine-woven metal strainer on the end. 

“All right, it’s real easy. You just scoop up a little bit of the tea leaves into this and place it in the hot water. This blend should steep for about ten minutes.” 

God. She would let him talk tea to her all damn day, his voice was so mind-numbingly sexy. 

“Any questions?” 

“O-oh, no,” she replied with a quick shake of her head. He gave her that little smile-smirk that made her heart pitter-patter in her chest, then turned to the side to type some of the keys on the old-fashioned register. 

“Okay. That’s going to be six hundred yen.” 

Ochako fished the bills out of her wallet. As she passed them over and picked the tea bag up off the counter, she found herself feeling a little sad. Such a fleeting interaction in the great abyss that was time, and yet she was mourning that it had come to an end… 

Yeah, then she got home and took a swig of that tea. Not much mourning followed that. Just a whoooooooole bunch of watching the back of her eyelids. She woke up the next morning not sure what year it was, drool caked on the side of her face and hair in disarray—and oh, my, did it feel fabulous. She’d never slept so amazingly in her life. There was no ifs, ands, or buts about it—she was gonna need more of that tea. 

And the fact that she would also get more Hitoshi in the process? Well… she would just call that a bonus. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite regular,” Hitoshi purred as Ochako sauntered into the café. She smiled bashfully and tucked a swathe of her brunette hair behind her ear. Though she definitely wasn’t strutting around looking like she was dying anymore, she still found herself growing nervous each time she came in to see Hitoshi. It didn’t matter how flawless her make-up looked that day, or whether she had searched her closest for the cutest outfit—all he had to do was bat those pretty, sleepy eyes at her, and that was it. Ochako was rendered utterly helpless. 

Well, not utterly. Now that she was sleeping like a normal human being, her brain actually worked. Somewhat, anyway. 

“Tell that to all the girls who come here once a week?” Ochako teased as she approached the counter. 

Hitoshi quirked an eyebrow, then quipped back, “Only the pretty ones.” 

Ochako giggled. She couldn’t help but exaggerate it a little and daintily hold a hand over her mouth. Maybe a bit much as far as flirting tactics went, but Ochako couldn’t help it. Hitoshi was just so dreamy; her mind was rendered cotton within seconds, and she kinda needed her critical thinking skills to access her good flirting capabilities. 

“You flatter me, Hitoshi,” she cooed with a bat of her eyelashes. Hitoshi’s smirk widened at that. Ah, look at her! She made him smirk! Point one for Ochako. 

“Come on, now, do I look like the type to resort to flattery?” Hitoshi chuckled while he turned to begin preparing her tea. “I speak the truth and only the truth, love.” 

Love love love, the pet name echoed in her head. He had been calling her that for a while now, but it still made her heart thump all over her ribcage. 

Any and every snarky quip she could respond with instantly buried itself six feet under in her brain, so she just giggled girlishly again. 

Agh, what am I doing? Come on, Ochako! You told yourself when you got up this morning that you would ask him out today! So stop being a simp and get on with it already! 

“H-hey, Hitoshi?” Ochako piped up before she could second-guess herself. Her momentary confidence immediately wavered when he turned around to flash those curious, pretty lavender eyes at her. 

“What’s up, Ochako?” he asked, carrying the little baggie of tea leaves up to the counter. “Thinking about changing things up today?” 

“A-actually, yes,” she said quickly. Looks like the universe was being kind enough to give her back her mojo. She still hesitated a moment, chewing on her lip while slowly swinging her shoulders from side to side. “I, um… I was thinking about maybe… g-getting your number?” 

There. It was out in the open. No matter how much Ochako may want to, she couldn’t suck the words back into her mouth. She bit down on her bottom lip while she just stared nervously at him. He was just staring owlishly back, giving no hint to what was going on in his head. Oh, that was the worst! She would at least like a little hint as to what he was thinking. Even a momentary flicker of utter disgust would be better than the sheer nothing on Hitoshi’s face. 

And then he gave her the sauciest smirk that she had ever seen on his stupidly pretty face. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled. His expression grew a little bashful, and he swept his fingers through his tousled lavender locks. “I have to admit, you threw me for a loop there. I thought I was going to be the one to ask you out.” 

“Y-you wanted to ask me out?” Ochako smiled coyly. Oh, what a development this was. 

“Yeah,” Hitoshi admitted. It didn’t take him long to get his confidence back, because then he was leaning against the counter with that sexy smirk dancing over his lips. “How does that make you feel, love?” 

“How does me asking you out make you feel?” she countered, playfully sticking the tip of her tongue out of the corner of her mouth. 

“Makes me feel like going out with you,” he answered matter-of-factly. Ugh, Ochako simply couldn’t compete with him! She ducked her head to hide her bright pink face and covered her mouth with her hands to smother her high-pitched giggle. “This is the part where you ask me what time I get off, beautiful.” 

“O-okay. What time do you get off?” 

“Six. I’ll be waiting,” he winked before sliding the tea across the counter to her. “And this one’s on me. Consider it thanks for coming by every week to show me that pretty face of yours.” 

“O-okay,” Ochako giggled bashfully, still hiding her face while she took the tea bag. She didn’t want to deprive him of one last look at her “pretty face,” though, so she meekly lifted her head to peer at him through her bangs. “I’ll, um, see you then.” 

She was keenly aware of him watching her as she left, but she was so damn giddy that she couldn’t resist doing a little happy dance. He’d already agreed to go out with her, so what did she have to lose? 

Definitely not sleep!

[rachetmath]

Why I love team JNPR

You know the usual. This is in my opinion. If you like it, reblog it or both that’s your choice. If you have questions, or want to add on to this then comment.  Read at your own time and will.

Ren and Nora compared to Yang: Yang had a mother. May not be by blood related but by relationship. Her mother died while she was young, but she still had her father and uncle to raise her. She had a social life in school, and she was trained by her father and uncle. Ren and Nora on the other hand, have no parents, only watched after each other and were trained by a bunch of strangers or by themselves. So unlike Yang, Ren and Nora would have a hard time relating to some people than Yang would.

Pyrrha compared to Weiss: Weiss was born and raised in a rich family. True, she was always cautious when it comes down to others using her for their own gain. But she takes her title way too seriously and it made her arrogant and cocky. Pyrrha doesn’t take her title too seriously, but she was overwhelmed by it. She hated how everyone only saw her as a tool or a weapon they can use for battle, and not as a person. She tries to welcome anyone into her life, but they always reject her, mainly feeling unworthy of her. Because of this Pyrrha felt truly more alone than Weiss. Unlike her, Pyrrha made her way to the top, she wasn’t born into it nor took the easy way to get there.

Jaune in comparison to Ruby and Blake: Jaune had nobody! Jaune had no uncle, no best friend, no teacher(sensei), NO SUPPORT to help him become a hunter. Jaune literally unlike Ruby is way out of his comfort zone. And unlike everyone he had no aura or training to help him. Jaune unlike Blake was treated, like a faunus, as a huge literal joke. This guy has literally had more reasons to be a villian than any of his teammates do. Plus, he has more things in common with the bad guys than he does with the heroes. He lost his partner and best friend due to the heroes, and Ozpin’s actions.

I liked team RWBY in volume 1-3, mostly because it made sense and was reviling each character’s problems and goals and was setting up the conflict of the story. But in volume three I started liking team JNPR more, because how they are not like the other teams. Everyone knows Pyrrha Nikkos, and believes without her, team JNPR is nothing more than failures. And you can’t blame them considering Jaune only became a leader because he was assigned to be one, and Ren and Nora were a bit too relaxed and into to each other to be leaders at all. And now with Pyrrha gone, they must prove that even without her, they can still be a great team. While defying the so-called “destiny” Cinder described as well.

In volume 4, we see Jaune does miss Pyrrha, and that he trains at night to her video message. He does feel sad that he lost her and that he couldn’t even express his feelings towards her as she did to him. And when he realized the truth, of course he was suspicious, his friend would have died either way by Amburn’s soul taking over or being a target for the rest of her life. Ren and Nora not only had to be there for each other still but now they had to be there for Jaune like Pyrrha did. (Even though they were completely horrible at it considering their flashback and action in volume four.)

In volume 5, (oh my gosh, this one is the reason I hate the show sometimes because of time constants) we learned the whole reason behind Jaune’s actions, which is revenge on Cinder. Team JNR were first to see Oscar before Ruby. Oscar was place under Jaune’s care do to the fact he was also a underdog (even though Oscar can just learn from muscle memory like Ozpin said) but Ruby takes that role for some reason and we are expected to take it. When the battle arrived, when Jaune had Cinder right in front of him, he did not hesitate to fight her. This backfired and one of his friends got hurt. He acknowledged that he missed up, that it was not suppose happen, and by doing so, he got his semblance. (Even when that makes no sense considering Cinder was after Ruby and Jaune’s secondary reason for coming along was keeping Ruby safe. At least I hope it was.)

In volume 6, could’ve better, Jaune made Oscar question himself even further, which is good. Because, one, Oscar is fourteen, and unlike Ruby he doesn’t have much of a clear idea on why he came along on the journey in first place other than Ozpin telling him to. When Jaune heard Oscar ran away, unlike Qrow, who punched him by the way, and don’t say it was for Ozpin because they share the same body, Qrow still hit a child, Jaune helped in the search and apologized to Oscar for his behavior. He gave Ruby an option when she couldn’t think of anything then she takes charge over it. Also, Ren and Nora admitted that they love Jaune and would not want to lose him just like Pyrrha. (Again, they were completely bad at that, considering they didn’t talk about that on the train, nor called Jaune out on his actions, completely ignoring him and etc. Really Jaune needs new friends.)

In volume 7, here’s the thing, Jaune had no reason to hate the General because he already worked things out with Qrow. How and when? We don’t know. But that shouldn’t mean he should flat out trust James with his life unlike Clover. Why you may ask, first, Qrow told him about the maiden powers. I mean, he wouldn’t leave out the people who knew about them like Ozpin, Good-witch and Ironwood, right? No. So Jaune has a reason not to trust James, not because of Pyrrha but Lionheart, the general’s actions so far and how the truth almost torn them apart mainly himself. Plus Jaune, and his team work more in Mantle, than RWBY, so they would have more run-in times with happy huntresses than team RWBY would on a regular basis. Then it’s how Mantle and Atlas situation is affecting their team with Ren and Nora butting heads over who’s right and who’s wrong, whether their ready to be hunters or not, and more importantly questioning their relationship and loyalty to not only each other but their friends. Image Ren, taking it too far where he could say something he’ll regret. Or by finding James to be right, he would sell out his friends believing it was the right thing to do. Image Nora having to choose between Ren or Jaune, which will be devasting more for Ren than Jaune because of how close they are to each other.

In volume 8, (Even though I highly doubt that team JNR will ever have a scene to themselves and now preview.) Jaune will feel bad because he not only lost the relic, he lost Oscar even though he’s alive. Now, how would this disturb him? Well, even though Nora would have to decide between him and Ren, in volume 4, there was a scene with Jaune going with Ruby and Nora going with Ren. It would feel obvious that she would follow Ren anywhere, even if it means leaving her friends behind. That could leave Jaune broken because he lost not only Pyrrha and Oscar but his teammates, making him the official Qrow and Raven of the group. This could cause Jaune to further out cast himself from everyone, trusting less in others and undoubtably make more horrible decisions than he already has before. That could also make him more of a target for the villains themselves. However, Jaune’s will to still protect the people and his friends will be the what keeps him sane and less brainwashed like Salem’s forces or the Ace Ops. (Or call team RWBY out on their mistakes.) But who can save him from a self-destructive path?

Many of you will say team RWBY might be able to help since their the main crew. Well, sadly, I disagree. Do to the fact that none of them tried to talk to Jaune after the Cinder and Ozpin incident. And there are multiple characters who have gone through a similar process or are wiser, than the main cast. The only ones who I feel can make an impact on him are maybe Maria and Penny. Penny may be android, but she seems more human than the RWBY girls put together. She is kind, friendly and mostly very supportive towards her allies. Maria may not have had many friends or levels of companionship as others, but she does know about how it feels to be powerless and scared of what’s to come. Maria would basically remind Jaune that being afraid and sorry for himself isn’t going to make things better. Penny would try to keep his sanity alive until he could once again maintain it on his own. However, the final person who I believe can help him is Qrow or even Oscar (Ozpin). Qrow would just remind Jaune on how far he has come, and for him to understand that nothing will play out as he planned. He would even tell him more about his team, mainly Raven and himself and how their decisions affected their family. Same goes for Oscar (Ozpin) but telling him how many mistakes he has made during his lifetime. He might even tell Jaune he knew about his fake transcripts, just didn’t care much about it if Jaune was willing to work and improve.

I know many people love team RWBY due to them being an all-female cast or for other reasons I cannot explain. But sometimes, there are situations that they cannot relate to. And even if there was, team RWBY does nothing to resolve it. For example, Jaune was sad about Pyrrha and trains under her videos. He wanted revenge on Cinder and Weiss almost died for it. And though he was asking appropriate questions, he went about it the wrong way, causing Oscar to feel unwanted and run away. Yet, none of his friends, bothered to either call him out on it, nor done anything to cheer him up or reason with him. Ruby who literally saw Jaune committing every one of those transaction, and has a dead relative, said nothing. Yang who lost both her moms, whose uncle was a constant drunk and had to take care of Ruby while her worthless dad is busy, said nothing. Weiss who has a somewhat of a dysfunctional family, said nothing.  Blake who is supposed to be an escape victim of a one-sided relationship, who seen how friends change or show their true colors with time, and literally seen more death than her team members and blames it on herself, said, nothing. Basically, Jaune overcame some of his problems on his own along with the help of the Red-Haired Women (and she barely mattered). And even though Ren and Nora talked to him, he already had reinsurances he needed to move forward. The point I’m trying to make is the reason I like team JNPR is that they are more real than team RWBY. They have weakness, they have arguments, nothing goes their way and when something bad happens they face the consequences.

That is why I love JNPR better than RWBY. Jaune, he was just a normal person until he made a chose to leave his old life behind for something greater, only to have his character taken by Ruby and Oscar, who just ruins it, and to never improve. And we still know nothing about him. Pyrrha who should just stayed alive because no one has learned from her death. Ren and Nora are just to be a better ship than Bumblebee. I hope these characters get better, but I highly doubt it.

[willadisastercry]

tw: voltron and anxiety

my brain has just accepted it as fact that Lance was most likely head hostage negotiator for his friends’ sanity while in space and let me tell you why

first order of business: i must establish that Lance is cannocially a goofball. this is factual and cannon. he is confident and charming and assertive and always the first to make a stupid joke just to put everyone at ease or piss them off because he loves them and that’s his thing. he wants to annoy the shit out of them and make them laugh not only because they need it but because he does too.

while i’ve seen a lot of posts suggesting Lance could have ADHD (and while i pretty much agree in that deduction and what i suggest in this post goes hand in hand with this disorder in particular, it requires a more thorough explanation that i as someone with adhd feel like they can provide a solid reasoning behind this theory) i think it can more simply be put as a headcannon that he has general anxiety or a generalized anxiety disorder that manifests in his self worth/esteem making him require more validation, affection, assurance despite his own portrayal of confidence and security (of which is a coping mechanism meshed with pre-existing personality traits). this is done through humor and affection for others, i. e. why he’s the “class clown” of which is a common example used for this type of behavior.

i recognize that voltron is a team of TEENAGERS at war in and entirely new enviornment with none of their usual comforts who have lots of hormones and logical fears that they have to navigate all while tasked with an immense responsibility. that’s stressful in and of itself. but this leads my brain to come to the obvious conclusion that any time a member of voltron exhibited anxiety, so like showed symptoms that they were about to have a panic attack, were stuck in a pattern of irrational thinking, showed harmful coping behaviors related to irrational fear, etc. Lance would sus it out and be at their side immediately to talk them down. no funny business. no jokes until he was sure they were feeling better. his cockiness would disappear and instead he’d be calm, he was always so composed, so comforting. he wouldn’t leave their side until it passed. he’d check on them throughout the day to make sure they hadn’t gotten worked up again. he’d even probably recognized their individual triggers and symptoms and became the only one who could effectively talk them down. every single one. it didn’t matter if they were in the middle of a mission. if something happened to trigger them he would drop whatever he was doing to go to their aid. he had been dealing with this his whole life, and they had just been introduced to such an intense dose of it and were expected to perform. in a hostile environment! and Lance being the softhearted goof he is definitely wouldn’t forgive himself if they got hurt or hurt themselves when he could’ve helped.

and so... Lance has assigned himself an enormous task because he’s Lance. everyone has sort of caught on to this and just accept Lance as being so strangely in tune with their well-being in this regard, all of them having varying degrees of understanding why, the general picture being it likely runs in his family and he is well aversed in both experiencing it and mollifying it. so when ever Shiro is hit by a flash back or has gone catatonic in a more intense episode of his cannon PTSD, it’s Lance and Keith at his side making sure he’s safe from hurting himself, they protect him from getting hurt if it happens in the middle of a mission, and from possibly hurting the people around him. Lance is a light sleeper and is often woken up by light cries and whimpers of his friends having nightmares, depending on which direction they come from warrants his level of concern (he goes by where their room is and the pitch of their cries, because they all get nightmares every now and again, they’re at ~war~ and it’s traumatizing, but some of his friends have worse reactions and tendencies in that state) and sometimes if they never quiet he’ll wait up to make sure they fall asleep okay and that no one hurts themselves in their delirium. and similarly, when Keith is rocked by a string of sleepless, nightmare ridden nights or occasional bouts of insomnia (neither officially established as cannon) and turns up to breakfast sleep deprived and sluggish Lance keeps an eye on him, takes it easy on him with his chiding, watches to see that he doesn’t over exert himself and end up snapping at someone and then crumbling from an exhaustion induced anxiety attack, especially when they’re out on a mission where the stakes are higher to maintain your composure. Lance is there when Hunk who is the most expressively anxious of the bunch is feeling particularly skiddish about a circumstance or on a dangerous mission or in anticipation of one of their teammates stumbling out of their cryopod in tact. he is especially good at knowing what’ll trigger his best friend and can usually manage some reassuring words before he goes full fight or flight and loses his lunch. but what’s most impressive is when he gets through to Pidge. she is a perfectionist, she needs constant intellectual stimulation to calm her nerves but the long hours she spends straining her eyes and her brain is also what makes her inclined to breakdown after a tough mission or during a difficult training session or from aparticularly tactless joke from one of the boys about her height and the like, but especially from frustration about not being able to solve a problem. but when Pidge breaks down it’s like next level bad, her usual practicality and composure utterly abandoned since when she’s lost her logical exterior it’s after a long time of surpressing her emotions, so if she has started crying she usually can’t get herself to stop, on several occasions hyperventilating and passing out. Lance seems to be the only one whose reassuring words she can prescribe to. he does breathing excercises with her to regain a normal breathing pattern and let’s her fall asleep on his chest so she can feel the rise and fall and emulate it. There’s fully now a whumpy fic that i wrote about this dynamic... here.

and the entire team is there to support Lance when he has an episode of his own anxiety. though he is really good at rationalizing his intrusive thoughts when he’s overwhelmed or panicked, it’s all of his good vibes only bs that helps him neutralize most of his anxiety before it builds. but when it does build up it usually manifests in him breaking down over the thought that he might never see his family again, it’s constricting, it’s the only thing he can’t rationalize. his team is very aware of this and try to comfort him before he spirals and usually catch it. Pidge even tries to do his own breathing techniques with him sometimes. and Hunk is especially good at calming him after a nightmare that he wakes up screaming from, usually about his family member dying or him dying before he gets to say goodbye, but Hunk is there whispering mantras in spanish to him until he calms down enough to go back to sleep.

so basically Lance is voltron’s emotional support animal and no one can convince me otherwise.

i digress.

[sxypigeon]

Chapter 20 - Bolin tries to write a screen play and everyone has a bad day

Book 5 Absolution (a mostly canon korrasami story)

Things in the refugee camps have gone downhill, Korra checks on Kuvira, and Asami tries not to murder Varrik.

Chapters  1,  19

---

The scene: A dusty Earth Kingdom village on the edge of the Si Wong Desert - a sleepy tourist town in its off season at dusk.

Enter: Ting-Ting in disguise wearing sandbender wraps and clothes, looking for his informant.  He walks down a side street and into the shadiest tavern, through the torn sheet acting as a door.  The interior is crowded and smokey, just the way Ting-Ting likes it.  He approaches the bar and says to the bartender -

“Bolin!”

Said earth bender turned from the window of the airship he’d been vacantly staring out of to his brother.  “What, I’m here - yes! . . . Um, could you repeat that in case I missed everything you just said?”

Mako sighed and rolled his eyes from his seat opposite him, next to Jeong.  “I asked you if you enjoyed your time with Opal, but judging by the look you just had, I guess I don’t need an answer.”

Bolin frowned at the pair of them as they shared a smug smile.  “Of course I did, but that wasn’t what I was thinking about.  I have this idea for a mover I’m working on-”

“Still?” Mako asks in surprise.

“Well, yeah.  What with working on uniting the Earth Kingdom and then saving Republic City, I haven’t had a whole lot of time to work on it.”

“What’s it about?” Jeong asked with interest.

“Oh, here we go,” Mako muttered with a small exasperated grin.

A huge grin lit up Bolin’s face.  “It’s about an ex-United Forces operative named Ting-Ting who’s on the trail of his kidnapped love Ivy.  His arch-nemesis Dr. Razor took her as revenge for Ting-Ting’s last mission with the United Forces to shut down his illegal laboratory where he forced spirits and thugs to merge and become his minions.  Ting-Ting’s research leads him to the edge of the Si Wong Desert where his former partner, Lee, is undercover trying to bust a smuggling ring among the sandbenders.  All clues point to Dr. Razor using the lost city of Sobata in the middle of the desert as his base and the center of the sandbender’s smuggling operation.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of information.  Do you think people will be able to follow along with the plot?”

“Sure, I mean, maybe there’ll have to be a voiceover explaining some of the finer details, but I think-”

“We’re here,” Mako interrupted.  

Jeong smiled and shrugged, “Next time.”

“Yeah,” Bolin muttered, “maybe by then I’ll have a bit more of the plot worked out and not just the backstory.”

---

“What do you mean you took over an Earth Empire reeducation camp?  Where are you?!”

Kuvira sighed tiredly and rubbed her eyes.  The avatar, as usual, had chosen an inopportune time to appear.  “Reeducation Camp 11, just east of the mountains and Fort Senlin.”  She paused to yawn.  “I helped the prisoners overthrow their guards and we currently control the camp and it seems like the Empire forces are unaware.  Was that all - can I go back to sleep?  It’s been a long two days.”

The spectral form of the avatar glared at her for a moment before worry won out over anger.  “What’s your plan for the camp?  Are you going to keep control of it or shut it down?  I don’t think the prisoners will want to stay long if they have the option of leaving.”

She is the wettest blanket.  No appreciation for taking over a camp singlehandedly, I see.  “We’re working on a way to send some of the prisoners by boat to Republic City, others want to stay in the area and fight the Empire locally and reunite with their families,” Kuvira muttered through a yawn.  “Seriously, I’ve had maybe three hours of sleep in the last two days.  Let’s hurry this up.”

“Do you need back up or me to help in any way?”

“Other than going away and letting me sleep?”  Kuvira ignored another glare.  “Send a ship to meet the boat in three days.”

“What about the guards?”

“What about them?”

“Are they dead or your prisoners?  Do they need to be moved?”

“No one has died per your orders,” she sighed.  “I was going to destroy all of the camp except the cells and leave a few days of food.  Someone will investigate if radio-silence goes more than forty-eight hours.”

“Okay, what’s after this?”

I’m working on that, but your pestering isn’t helping.  Kuvira was quickly losing what little patience she had left.  “If all of this works?  Who knows, maybe I’ll open a tea shop in the middle ring of Ba Sing Se and retire.”

Korra looked ready to explode.  “I’m trying to help you!  We both want the same thing!  I can’t do anything for you if you don’t let me in on what you’re thinking.”

“And I’m telling you, right now, what I’m thinking about is sleep.  Now kindly disappear since that seems to be something you’re good at.”

---

This was a mistake.  Why did I ever agree to this?  This was one of the most important buildings in Asami’s entire company . . . and she was letting a known swindler and thief in through the front door.

“You know, I came up with something like this in a dream eighteen months ago,” Varrik said thoughtfully while passing an airplane large enough to hold two dozen people.

There is no plausible way this will end any way, but in disaster.  “As a reminder, Varrik, everything in this building and in or around the surrounding complex is off limits to you and Zhu Li.  These are trade secr-”

“Yeah, yeah.  Zhu Li, did you remember to pack the pumice scrub?  You know how bad my calluses get.” 

Asami gritted her teeth, but maintained a smile for her employee leading the tour.  He will steal at least one of my R&D designs.  He’ll steal it, copyright it, and then counter sue me when I try to take him to court over it.

Varrik wildly flung his arm in the direction of his wife’s head and pointed, “Hey, is that the break room?  Does it have a full kitchen?  Top quality genius requires expertly prepared, well-balanced meals.

He’s going to drive me insane and I’m going to kill him . . . then I’ll go to prison and never see Korra again . . . or I could go on the run and maybe Korra could come with me . . . as long as I don’t have to live in the sewers again.

The group came to a stop just inside the break room while Varrik tested the water pressure and temperature coming out of the taps in the kitchenette.  The tour guide, the head of the research building, approached her with a calm smile born from years of dealing with eccentric researchers. “Will there be anything else, Miss Sato?” 

“No, thank you, Mr. Taka.  That will be all,” she replied.  She waited for him to leave before waving her guests over and addressing them.  “I cannot emphasize this enough: everything you see here falls under the heading Trade Secret and cannot be copied or reproduced in any form-”

Varrik rolled his eyes and wrapped an arm around Asami’s shoulders.  “What are you, a broken record?.  I remember the forms your lawyer made us sign.  She read them all out loud - it nearly put me to sleep.”

“You can never be too careful,” Asami said with a forced smile.  Remember to breathe.  Maiming him won’t make this easier . . . or will it?  “Would you like some time to settle in or-”

“Heck no!  Let’s get straight to business!”  He stepped away, with a hand behind his back and a hand in the air, counting off what he needed on his fingers.  We’re going to need three heavy-duty electro-magnets, five industrial spools of thirty gauge copper wire, multiple sheets of pure platinum ranging from 0.25mm thickness to 5mm, and a pot of black tea every fifty-two minutes.”

Asami attempted to unclench her jaw before answering.  “Zhu Li warned - informed me of what we’d need.  It’s all set up in the lab.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?!  Zhu Li, do the thing!”

Asami watched the newlyweds practically run toward the ballistic R&D laboratory hopelessly.  Maybe everything will go fine . . . and maybe the Earth Empire will spontaneously surrender and give up their super weapons . . . and just maybe I’ll come out of this with my sanity intact.

---

“Is it just me or do these people not seem happy to see us?”  Bolin asked

Mako kept his head on a swivel.  Everyone on their path hurried away as they approached.  “They do not.”

“I don’t like this,” Jeong whispered.  “Something must have happened while we were away.”  She led the group down the dirt path between the rows of tents at a brisk pace.  “Dad!  What’s going on?  What-”

Jeong was stopped in front of her family's tent when the boys caught up to her.  The stricken look on the man’s face told them nearly all of the story.

Mako stepped beside the silent young woman and addressed her father gently, “What happened, sir?”

He breathed deeply and squared his shoulder, trying to hold his emotions in check.  “My son . . . and at least two other members of the neighborhood watch have been abducted.”

“No,” Bolin muttered hopelessly behind Mako.

“Did someone see any of this take place?  Are you sure they’re being held against their will?” Mako asked as he took out his notepad.

“Letters were sent to the families . . . delivered by young orphans we’ve seen with Triple Threat members.”

“This is my fault,” Jeong muttered in shock to herself.  “I stole that weapon.  I set up the watch.  I tried to drive the Triple Threats out of the area-”

“No!  You helped your neighbors!” Bolin insisted.  “Everything you did was to make everyone safer.  We’re going to get everyone back and bring the Triple Threats to justice!”

“Assigning blame isn’t going to help the situation,” Mako cut in, mostly to prevent Bolin from making more promises he wasn’t sure they could keep.  “May I see the letter you received?  Jeong, I need you to stay with your family while Bolin and I look into this.”

Perhaps as a sign of how distraught she was, Jeong simply nodded and headed into the tent.  Her father sighed sadly once she was inside.  “She’s tried so hard to help.  Here, find the bastards and bring my son home . . . please.”

Mako met his eyes and nodded as he took the letter.  “We’ll do everything in our power, sir.  I’ll let you know when I’ve learned anything.”  He grabbed Bolin by the arm and marched them back toward the airship they arrived on.

“Wait, aren’t we going to collect evidence and question the neighbors or stake out a . . .a tent or something?” Bolin asked.

Mako kept his face neutral.  “The two of us can’t take on an entire gang by ourselves.  We’re going to need back up.  There’s a radio in the airship.”

“Oh, right.  We can call for backup?”

“I hope so,” Mako muttered to himself.  If there is any . . .

---

Thanks for reading!

[heartslogos]

newfragile yellows [953]

“I think that there are some people who are just meant to be together. Like. In every iteration of the universe, somehow, someway, Ellana Lavellan and the Iron Bull will cross paths, and they will — make no mistake — find some way to continue crossing paths and inevitably become hooked on each other’s existences. That’s really the only thing I can say here. Somewhere, some kind of god or power that be looked down on the planet, saw these two, and went, ‘those two? Absolutely must be put together’. Like salt and pepper, oil and fire, Orlesians and complications, Fereldans and dogs, Free Marchers and arguing. It just is.”

“That’s very touching, Maxwell. Thank you,” Ellana says. “But I feel as though you’re saying this in order to preface something incredibly pessimistic. Are you? You could just stop there, you know.”

“I know. But I’m not going to.” Max continues, “Because when the two of you do part ways the universe gets mad and does it's best to shove you two back together again, even if you two are only going apart temporarily for legitimate reasons. Like right now. When the Iron Bull was supposed to be holding things down at Adamant. Which is, quite notably, on the other side of Orlais. Now, how do you figure he’s gotten all the way here just in time to help us in the middle of Denerim of all places?”

“The power of love?” Ellana says. “Or maybe Evelyn had him come over because she had a premonition.”

“My cousin does not have premonitions. Do not even think about ascribing such a power to her, Ellana. Do you think we’d be in this mess if Evelyn had premonitions? At best she has a faint tingle of self preservation but it’s completely run down and pushed aside by her overwhelmingly staunch sense of justice and unyielding morals. If there’s anyone in the world I would trust to march right up to the Maker and pass Him a list of everything he’s done wrong it would by my cousin. Don’t get me wrong, she’d feel conflicted about it and all. But ultimately if she sees no one else doing it, good lord, she’d be the one to do it and she’d even have it annotated.”

“You put your cousin in such high regard, Max.”

“I refuse to believe that there isn’t a single Trevelyan worth listening to. It’s got to be Evelyn.”

“And not you?”

Max throws his head back, laughing brightly as he claps his hands together. Ellana pinches Max’s side.

“I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“Then you have a glorious talent,” Max replies. “Enough about me. Can we focus on how the Iron Bull is somehow here, instead of across the extreme edges of the map, and somehow found us when our own assigned team of soldiers, scouts, and various sundry aides hasn’t yet?”

“Well. He’s the Iron Bull, Max. He’s very clever,” Ellana says, sounding extremely serene and coherent for someone who’s been dosed with a truly troubling amount of magebane. “Max, do you think you can choke on your vomit if you’re upside down?”

“Ellana, I can assure you I haven’t the slightest idea. Frankly, I don’t know how we’re having this conversation whilst maintaining our composure. I think it’s the ludicrous appearance of your beau that’s finally snapped my sanity. I should be worrying. I should be attempting to get out of these ropes so I can get you out of your ropes and then rush you to a healer before you possibly die. And yet? Here we are. Strung up like hams from the ceiling, watching the Iron Bull — who I’m still not convinced isn’t a hallucination — absolutely demolish our captors with his crew.”

“Well we can’t both be hallucinating the Iron Bull. And if we were that would be saying something. I know why I would hallucinate the Iron Bull, why would you be hallucinating him?”

“Haven’t the slightest idea. Maybe we were both drugged and this is an elaborate illusion created by demons or some such creature.”

“This isn’t usually what demons show me when they’re trying to mess with me,” Ellana replies. “Seriously. If I throw up whilst we’re strung up like this do you think I’ll choke?”

“I seriously don’t know, really. I can promise you I’ve not had this experience before.”

Ellana hums. “If I throw up do you think it’d help get the magebane out of me? Or has it already worked its way into my system, do you think?”

“Ellana, I’m not a physician or a healer or an apothecary or a barber. I haven’t the faintest hint of an idea, I promise you. Now, if I were capable of drawing in enough breath to yell I would. But I can’t because they truly tied me up tight and every time I breath I can feel something grinding in my ribs.”

“That’s awful,” Ellana replies. “I think I’m losing my vision.”

“Well. That’s a sign that the magebane has most certainly gotten to you, hasn’t it? Are you capable of yelling to attract their attention and letting them know we’re in most dire straights?”

“Sure,” Ellana replies. “I’ll give it a shot. What should I start with, you think? That I’ve been poisoned and am slowly losing consciousness, you’ve got broken ribs and might cease being able to breathe pretty soon, or the fact that they’re fighting near several flammable items?”

“Oh, surely a woman of your talent can manage to fit in all of the above in one go. But if you can’t I think you ought to start with the last one.”

“Fair enough. You know Max, it might be because of the extremely powerful poison that I’ve been made to ingest that’s draining my magic and my wellbeing, but I think you are a wonderful person to have in a crisis. You’re thinking very clearly and you’re thinking for two.”

“Thank you. Please start yelling because I felt something inside of me shift in a way it definitely shouldn’t and I’m very concerned.”

“Right-o.” Ellana sucks in a breath. “There’s explosives in the crates behind you!”

“Well done. Now maybe the poison bit next.”

“You sure not your thing?”

“Positive.”

“They’ve got mage bane! And so do I! Cut us down quick, Max’s got something wrong too. We’re not exactly sure.” Ellana sighs. “Max.”

“Yes, Ellana?”

“I feel incredibly tired from that yelling. Be a dear and wake me up once it’s all over, will you? I’m just going to close eyes for a moment. I hope that when I open them again I’m in the Iron Bull’s arms and he’s looking extremely cross at me for getting into trouble.”

[jasiper]

Royally Stuck (To You)

A Royal AU one-shot in which Jason is the prince of England and he can’t break the rules—except there is one rule he really, really wants to break.

dedicated to my best friend in the whole entire universe, @mcleanspipers , happy birthday! i love you so so much.

From the moment Jason was born, his entire life was planned out for him. His clothes were selected for him every day, his entire education was mapped out before he even took his first steps, and his future—well, he remembers when his father got remarried and a blushing blonde in the second row was pointed out and deemed his future wife and the future Duchess of Wales.

It all seemed fair. Being the prince of England was no small role. He had big shoes to fill and an even bigger image to present to the people. It is not a role he would have chosen for himself, no, but it is one he is stuck with, so he has to make the most of it.

He almost thought he could be happy with marrying the blushing blonde in the second row at his father’s wedding. Almost. He probably would have done so happily (give or take) if he didn’t go to boarding school.

That’s where he met Piper McLean.

After the death of his biological mother, Jason struggled a lot. Growing up with the world watching is not an easy thing. He buried his mother before he could start forming his own memories and gained a stepmother all whilst being known as the grieving prince of England. What better way to cope than to ship your adjusting teenage son to boarding school in the United States. So that’s what King Arthur—better known by his nickname, Zeus, given to him in law school—did. When Jason was sixteen, he was shipped off to some tiny, prestigious boarding school in New England, away from everything he’s ever known. He hated it at first. He missed his sister. He missed his stepmother. And strangely enough, he missed his father. He missed England.

But then he met her.

Piper McLean was witty, charming, and beautiful. She was his debate partner and instantly he liked her. She didn’t kiss up to him because he was the prince; in fact, she couldn’t care he was the prince. Like him, she was angry at being forced to attend a boarding school. She was as royal as Americans could get, being the daughter of a famous actor. Their fathers were more alike than Jason could think possible—instead of maturely dealing with their adjusting children, they sent them away.

However, that drew Jason in.

It took weeks for him to break down her walls. It took even longer to get her to hold his hand and to text him. It took even longer than that to kiss her underneath the stars for the first time. She was his first kiss, his first time having sex, his first love.

Like all first loves, it had to end. Graduation arrived and Jason was sent back to England to go to college. Piper stayed in the United States to pursue her own education. Between their crazy lives, they lost touch. Jason dated that blushing blonde his father pointed out years ago, a lovely girl named Katherine, who was born into a wealthy family and practically raised with the hopes of marrying into the royal family. After feeling what love could be, Jason couldn’t settle. Jason couldn’t marry the blushing blonde.

Fate tore them apart, but it brought them back together. A blind date turned into a reunion. A reunion turned into Jason wanting more.

You can’t go around being seen with an American, Jason, his father yelled when the tabloids swarmed with the pictures of Jason sneaking into Piper’s hotel room the night of the blind date. There are girls you can be seen with and girls you cannot. She is not one of them.

Most of the time, Jason would shut up. He’d bite his tongue, look down and apologize. This time, the words slip out before he can stop them: Don’t you want me to be happy?

We have an image to maintain, was his father’s answer. It doesn’t mean you can be happy all the time.

If Jason has to be a monarchical figurehead with little actual legislative power, he might as well be happy. So that’s what he decided in the moment: he should be happy. In hindsight, sneaking around was probably the most dangerous way to approach the situation, but with essentially no control over his entire life, keeping it a secret was the only out. It’s a loose arrangement, this sneaking around; whenever Piper visits, he goes to her hotel to see her. It’s casual—disgustingly casual, which is hard because the feelings of the past seven years have crept up on him.

Laying awake at night, most of the time alone in his room, he doesn’t feel right. He’s been dubbed the most eligible bachelor in the world yet the one person he actually wants isn’t ‘right’ for him or whatever. She wouldn’t fit his father’s so-called ‘image’; ultimately she is an American. That’s all his people would see.

Except that’s not what he sees. He sees the intelligence, how fast her thoughts move when she approaches him with a case she’s been assigned to (he forgot to mention she’s a fancy hot shot Washington, D.C. lawyer). He sees the resilience, how her name’s been targeted for her father and her mistakes and her job and now her slip-up with Jason. He sees the future they could have, how soft her fingertips are when she touches his cheek and how beautiful she looks asleep next to him and—

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.” Piper’s voice brings him back to reality. He blinks, looking over at her as she raises her eyebrows at him. She holds the sheets against her chest, her hair tumbling over her shoulder. He wants to run his fingers through her hair again. “What’s on your mind?”

Jason shakes his head. “Just... you know. Busy. A lot on my mind.”

“Busy.” Piper isn’t buying it. It’s her job to call people’s bluffs. “Mhm. Okay. Whatever you say.”

He hates that she knows him so well but because of his family, they’re just sleeping together. She doesn’t deserve this casualty, this unimportance she probably feels. Despite what it’s coming off as, she’s not just the prince’s escape. She’s what his father envisioned a blushing blonde to be to him—someone who would spend forever with him.

“I am busy. But you’re only here for another day,” he murmurs. He cups her cheek in his hand to kiss her. “I don’t want my sulking to waste our time.”

Piper seems to melt against his touch, leaning in to kiss him back. “You could sulk if you want,” she breathes. “I really don’t mind. Sulking is understandable.”

“I don’t want to,” he argues. He pulls her closer to him, the sheets tangling around their bodies. He wants this, the kissing underneath the sheets. But he hates how they’re in a hotel, sneaking around, hoping to not get caught again.  He hates how this isn’t a nightly occurrence. He has to fake this, unfortunately. He has to fake that he’s okay with this when he isn’t, not at all.

Maybe he should come clean. She knows he liked her once, so long ago at the boarding school in Vermont, so would it really be a shock for him to confess again? She’s smart, she has to sense something, only she’s too polite (and perhaps too intimidated by his power of being prince) to call him out on the sneaking around.

But coming clean would ruin her life. If he’s serious about his emotions—which he is, he can’t deny it anymore—and she was his endgame, she’d lose everything: her home in the United States, her job as a lawyer, her freedom, her sanity, her privacy. What kind of selfish monster would do that to her, especially after his own mother lose all aspects of herself under the spotlight? If his mother hadn’t become princess, maybe she wouldn’t be dead.

Is this what Jason wants? To repeat history? To condemn Piper to life he wishes he could break free from? To potentially send Piper to the same fate as his mother?

Piper abruptly pulls away. Jason blinks in surprise, sitting up immediately as she tears her body away from his. “Pipes?” he asks carefully. It’s almost like she read his mind and sensed his hesitation.

“I can’t... do this anymore,” she blurts out. When his heart drops, she meets his eyes and the brown burns into blue. “I can’t do this without telling you how I really feel about all of this.”

“Feel?” Jason’s heart has crept his way into his throat. “What do you mean? Do you not want to do this anymore?”

“I think,” Piper takes a deep breath and looks away, “I’m falling in love with you.”

If Jason was connected to a heart monitor, he’s certain he’d been flatlining now. He’s sure of it. He isn’t sure he’s even breathing when he manages out, “What?”

Piper sucks in another gasping breath before quickly saying, “I haven’t really, you know, dated since we were together in high school. That’s stupid, right? But who has time to date a lawyer? Who has time to understand what a lawyer goes through? That’s selfish of me to want someone who has to sacrifice all of that just for, what, a half-assed relationship? I’m in trial constantly or I’m traveling to help NGOs and being with me... it would be exhausting. That’s what I told myself, at least. But going on that date with you and seeing you all the time, it made me realize something. I never got over my stupid feelings for you. So I can’t keep sleeping with you because I’m falling in love with you, Jason. I can’t do this unless I’m honest.”

Jason’s mind is working at a million miles an hour. Here he was, accusing himself of being selfish when she’s been doing the same thing. Different motives, obviously, but maybe they’re still seventeen, stuck in the secluded boarding school in Vermont, feeling utterly alone unless they’re together because all they are is kids who were too much to handle. Maybe they’re still seventeen at heart and they can make this work.

But can Jason be that selfish?

“I... I know I’m falling in love with you, Piper,” Jason manages out. Her eyes flash to meet his and he wonders if the room is as warm as he feels. “I’ve known it for a while. If I didn’t feel this way, I wouldn’t risk my father’s anger and the tabloids. Hell, I’m risking being torn apart by the Daily Mail to see you twice a month. But I want this. I... I want more than just sex. I just can’t ask you to do that.”

Piper reaches forward to cup his cheek in her hand. “Why? Why can’t you ask me?”

“Because.” The guilt is creeping its way into Jason’s throat now. “Look at you. You’re brilliant. You’re a successful lawyer that has changed lives. You fight for the rights of people who cannot do so alone. Your life is a whole ocean away. If we... wanted to date, you’d be criticized. Life as the prince’s girlfriend isn’t an easy one.”

“My feelings for you are not fragile,” she says stubbornly. “I know what I want. You are what I want.”

For once, Jason isn’t wanted because he’s prince. He’s wanted because she knows who he is. She knew that seventeen-year-old boy in debate club and somehow she still wants him.

“I can’t ask you to put your reputation on the line to date,” Jason whispers. “I’m not going to.”

“You’re not asking. I’m doing so willingly.” Piper leans even closer. “You are what I want.”

“And if it doesn’t work out?” Jason questions. “What if we try this dating thing and we aren’t as compatible as we think we are?”

Piper musters a smile and Jason’s heart nearly stops again. “I think it’s worth it to at least try. I think you are worth it.”

For the first time in over twenty years, Jason’s life isn’t perfectly laid out before him. He doesn’t see a blushing blonde in his future, the one he refused to settle with—he sees Piper, her warm brown eyes, her vibrant smile, and someone who sees him past the crown and the palace and the shiny law degree.

“Well.” Jason pulls her in for a kiss. “I am falling in love with you, but I can’t lie and say you’re not royally screwed.”

Stifling a laugh, Piper rolls her eyes as she pulls away. “It’s royally settled, that’s what it is. My feelings for you are not going away any time soon and neither am I.”

All the rules implemented for him are broken. All the plans carefully crafted have dissipated before his eyes. He can practically hear his father’s yelling and see the nasty headlines, but for just a moment, he doesn’t care.

This, Jason is certain, is better than any crown.

[star-birthmark]

Hello! I love your blog! i kind of have a weird request but it interests me... what are you personal head canons for La Squadra s/os? Like, what how do you head canon that La Squadra met their s/os, what do you head canon that they look like?

Hello everyone, I’m sorry it’s been so long (I’m also sorry this isn’t something you voted on) but I swear I’m working on your requests and other stuff. College is just kicking my ass right now I’M SORRY

Anyway, here are my La Squadra S/O Headcanons

Meeting Their S/Os 

Risotto Nero

Risotto met his s/o after a failed mission. It was early in his career as an assassin with Passione, and he was too frightened to return to the hideout and face Sorbet and Gelato. 

Instead, he decided to hide out in a bar, which is when his s/o first caught sight of him

The two of them chatted over drinks, eventually ending up together in a nearby hotel room. 

All was going well until Risotto proceeded to take his shirt off (I headcanon he didn’t have the leather straps yet), and revealed a nasty cut he had gotten during the hit.

His now s/o, then stranger, immediately rushed to call an ambulance, but Risotto told them not to.

So instead, they rushed to a store to get supplies to bandage him.

As they were mending the cut, Risotto looked up at them and asked why they were helping even if he didn’t know them. 

His s/o replied, “I don’t know… there’s something about you.”

What started off as a normal night of drinks and flirting soon ended in a heartfelt connection between two lost souls. They two kept talking and eventually began dating. 

Prosciutto

Prosciutto met his s/o because they had been assigned to La Squadra.

He always knew he’d marry a mafioso/a, it’s what his parents had done, grandparents etc. Passione had been his whole life. 

He remembers the day he met them well. Illuso was spreading a rumor around the gang that a “total hottie” was taking Polpo’s test, and the men were excited to see where they would be assigned.

The day Risotto came into the hideout with s/o in tow, Prosciutto felt his whole world freeze. They were exactly what he had been looking for in a lover all his life, he could just tell. 

Since he was the one in charge of tutoring Pesci, Risotto put s/o under Prosciutto wing, but Grateful Dead’s user soon learned they were more than capable of mafia life without his teaching.

That only made him love them more. 

Formaggio

Formaggio grew up in the same town as his s/o. The two of them knew each other as kids. 

S/O would always follow Formaggio around, and the little boy decided to just bring them along - they were pretty cute anyway-

They spent their whole lives together, going to the same school, playing in each other’s back yards, slowly but surely falling in love. 

That is until he had to leave for Passione. 

When s/o first discovered that Formaggio was gone, their first thought was the mafia. Not that he had been abducted by the mafia, more like he left to go join the mafia. 

They both had gotten in their fair share of trouble with the police, so the mafia was the next logical step for the young man, and s/o knew that. 

So they left their normal life in their hometown and joined Passione after Formaggio, hoping to reunite with him. 

And they did, and they’ve been dating ever since. 

Illuso

Illuso met his s/o by approaching them at a bar. He was there with the gang, and Formaggio had challenged him to pick up the hottest person there. Before Melone could lecture about how beauty was in the eye of the beholder, Illuso was already on his way to his s/o

Striking up a conversation with them, it was clear that the two of them had a connection. 

He could tell they weren’t part of Passione, so he tried his best to conceal his profession from them, but one thing that the two of them shared was an inherent curiosity. They kept asking, he kept not answering.

He was able to keep it secret until the two of them were dating, and his s/o told him they’d stay with him as long as he was safe. 

That was when Illuso took them into the mirror world for the first time. He assured him that as long as he was in here, nothing could hurt him. That calmed his s/o’s nerves immensely.  

Pesci

Pesci met his s/o on vacation. Each member of La Squadra is allowed one week of no missions in order to maintain their sanities and every time it’s his turn, Pesci takes a trip to Portofino to enjoy the sea air and to go fishing. 

It was there that he met his s/o. He was calmly fishing by himself when the two of them literally bumped into each other. 

The collision caused s/o to break their rod as they trip over Pesci’s things, and Pesci offers to buy them a new one, knowing the sorrows of not being able to go fishing. 

They talk during the stroll to the supply store, both having effortless chemistry with the other. When they finally come back to Pesci’s seat at the dock, s/o decides to join them, and they spent a lovely evening together, and then a lovely week together. 

When Pesci reveals that he had to return to Naples, his s/o revealed that they lived nearby and that they would commute to see him, and the two of them have been in love ever since.   

Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio met his s/o on a mission. He was supposed to kill a corrupt politician in a local restaurant. 

Right after he got the job done, he was about to make his escape with White Album, when he heard their voice yell out and ring through the whole building. They were complaining about their order and were throwing a perfectly normal tantrum (well, normal for Ghiaccio’s standards).

Ghiaccio was, to put it in a word, smitten. Finally, someone just as loud as him. He had to meet them. 

He rushed to defend s/o’s opinion and the two of them were promptly thrown out of the restaurant together. 

Having bonded from their shared experience and anger, the two of them soon spent time together in a nearby bar and a nearby hotel, having the angriest, hate-filled, passionate night either of them had ever had. 

Melone 

Melone met his s/o at a Passione ball. They were already someone else’s date, but we all know Melone has no shame. 

He immediately began to flirt with them, and since they were only hired by their date to be arm candy, they decided to indulge Melone on his flirting

The two of them spent the whole night talking to each other, and s/o soon forgot about how they were supposed to be someone’s date at that event. 

They were about to leave with Melone when their date ran after them in a rage that they were upholding their end of the bargain. But Melone turned to the man and personally gave him his money back for hiring s/o as his date. 

The two of them left their ballroom in order to ‘bond’ some more, and one trip with Baby Face later, Melone went to collect the money he had given that man. 

S/O Appearance Headcanons. These are my personal headcanons, so they’re under the cut if you don’t want to see them. 

Your f/o loves you no matter what you look like!

Risotto’s S/O (link to picture reference)

Risotto’s s/o is a short, curvy woman with dark curly hair running down to her upper back. 

She’s about the same skin tone as him and has these deep brown eyes that are almost as captivating as Risotto’s red ones. 

She has a dark brow that intensifies whenever she is concerned with him, and she often is considering how much danger he gets into on a daily basis. 

She’s often seen wearing baggy, black clothing to conceal her figure since she hates being objectified for her gorgeous body. 

Risotto is absolutely fine with this since he takes pride in knowing he’s the only one allowed to remove those clothes at the end of the day

Prosciutto’s S/O (reference)

I picture that Prosciutto likes longer and leaner women.

The two of them contrast between his more muscled physique and her lithe appearance. 

Her smaller curves also lead to an ego boost for the man, as it heightened the sense that he’s overpowering his s/o. Idk this man’s into power play. 

Proscuitto wants someone as well dressed as him, so he’s immediately attracted to his s/o when she comes to work at La Squadra in a suit.

He’s attracted to her straight, elegant hair and her calm yet professional demeanor, and respects her mix of traditional femininity and more masculine attire. 

Though he sometimes complains that her clothing is too impractical for their work, she proves herself by doing his job better than he ever could.

Formaggio’s S/O (reference) 

Formaggio loves as many curves as possible. 

He loves snuggling up to his girlfriend’s pillowy body and just relaxing with her together. 

I also picture Formaggio being into blonds. He loves their light coloring and how it contrasts with his dark reddish hair. 

He loves someone smaller than him and loves teasing her because of it. 

In terms of style, he loves when his s/o wears form-fitting clothing, so he can ogle her whenever he wants. 

He loves how his s/o is more serious than he is, it provides balance with how silly he is. 

The two of them grew up together, and still to this day, he can’t help but blush when he thinks about how gorgeous she’s always been even from the day they met. 

Illuso’s S/O (reference)

Illuso loves the contrast between his long hair and his s/o’s short hair.

The two of them are the same height. 

Like Prosciutto, he loves a more androgynous style on his s/o, he finds it very enticing and mysterious. 

He also loves her bright blue eyes, and how they bore into his soul. 

He loves curves just as much as Formaggio, loving the comparison between his toned body and his s/o’s curvy one.  

People often do not put the two of them together due to his S/Os inherent innocent look, but Illuso knows they aren’t that innocent behind closed doors. 

Pesci’s S/O (reference)

Pesci wants someone cute and sweet that he can fit in his arms for a warm and comfortable hug. 

He doesn’t mind what body type she has, but he does have a soft spot for someone with a soft tummy and cute round cheeks. 

Whenever the two of them are lounging on the couch together, Pesci loves to play with his s/o’s curls, even if she lectures him not to. 

Pesci prefers someone soft-spoken like him and someone patient who can help him through his self-doubt and anxiety. 

His favorite thing about his s/o is her sweet, shy smile, and how cute she looks in really feminine patterns and colors.  

Ghiaccio’s S/O (reference)

Ghiaccio loves someone who is as pale and wintery looking as he is, something hard to come by in the sunny land of Italy, but that only makes him more attracted to his S/O

He finds her large bright blue eyes mesmerizing, especially when they darken as her short temper takes over

He thinks she looks absolutely adorable when she’s angry, but seeing her so worked up really gets him going as well. 

He loves curves as well but prefers ass versus chest, so he’s happy his s/o has such a figure

In terms of style, he wants her to cover up as much as possible because he gets really jealous whenever she gets looks in public, but she never listens to him and wears whatever she wants. 

Really his favorite look on her is when she’s naked on their bed, hair in her face and her face bright red, but that’s for another time. 

Melone’s S/O (reference)

Melone always thinks about someone’s genetic makeup whenever thinking about potential s/os. Who’s going to make the best combination with him? Weird I know

This is why he finds his s/o’s red hair so fascinating, as it’s the rarest color population on Earth, and she has it naturally. 

He secretly adores that his s/o is taller than him. When the two of them cuddle, he feels safe as the little spoon. 

He also loves her soft features and dark eyes. They have such a different look from his sharp angles and bright eyes. 

He looks for someone most capable of supporting life. If he’s going to get married and have a family with someone, they better be ready. 

He’s obsessed with hips and chests and loves gripping them on her when the two of them are laying in bed absently.

[huilian]

Hello people! Since my grades for this semester have been released, I’m here to give some tips (and to remind myself what works) on studying! Since I’m a glutton for punishment, I took bio and chem classes that life sci kids take, and also math and physics classes and physics kids take. (Why? Ask me again in three years, please.) Also, I took an elective in Women Studies, which was the absolute highlight of my week (I want to minor in it, but I don’t have enough credits for that… more’s the pity). 

So! This year I got A+ in every sciency class, and an A in the women studies one, and I want to make this post to share some tips! 

Make your own notes

This is the absolute holy grail of studying tips, for me. I’ve been making summaries of things for years and it works extremely well for me. This is a way of interacting with the material, while also organizing all the bits and bobs of information that you have. I combined my class notes, powerpoints, and readings (when I have them) into a single word doc or handwritten note. It really helps to make connections between lectures, and it helps in understanding the material, since you’re actually writing it down. This also helps in determining which materials are important, and which ones are just not worth your time. Put diagrams and pictures in this document too, because you are going to need those when you study. 

If you do this, voila! You just have a study guide to study from when midterms/finals come. You don’t have to go searching for things when you’re studying, just focus on memorizing/understanding/connecting those things together. 

The only downside is this take TONS of time. For chem and physics I did them by hand, and it took me hours to do that, but since handwriting things help with memorizing, you will spend less time when you’re reviewing! For bio i basically just gave up in handwriting things (too many shits to write down) and type them, but compiling things from all my notes and readings do still take a lot of time. It works like a charm though, so as much time as it takes, I’ve been doing this religiously for years and I kept my A+ (or its equivalent). 

Cheat your brain

Find a place (or several) to study! You’ll then associate that place with studying and consequently feel weird when you’re there but not studying. When I don’t have the motivation to study I normally just force myself to be there, faf around for several minutes, and then suddenly the motivation to study comes. (Might not work for everyone though)

My mom drilled into my head that I SHALL NEVER SIT/LAY DOWN ON BEDS WHEN I HAVE OUTSIDE CLOTHES ON, so when I want to force myself up, I change to my outside clothes. Then I can’t laze around on my bed anymore (or fear the wrath of my mother. I’m literally halfway across the world, but she will know. SHE WILL KNOW.) and so I have to get up and do some work.

Use your damn resources!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OFFICE HOURS ARE MY SAVIOUR. Very few people actually go to office hours, and yeah, it sucks to be inside your classroom building for more than you actually have to, but this time is your one-to-one time with your prof, people. A lot of my friends are afraid to go to office hours because they think you have to have like, high-end questions to ask them. Spoiler alert, you don’t. I like to just go there and do my homework/assignment on office hours, in front of them, so when I have trouble doing it I literally just raise my head and call them over. It’s heaven. Really. Did I say that very few people actually go to office hours? Your prof will be bored there, and you coming would be the highlight of their day. Bonus points are that they will know you and then you can ask dumb questions to them and they will answer (I have asked so many dumb questions to my profs. Like, really really dumb. They still answered them.) 

Ps. they will also want to give you letters of recommendation. I scored a lab volunteer (that is currently on hold because of covid) as a first-year because of those letters of recommendation.

Pps. If you’re still scared of your prof’s office hours, go to your TA’s! Sometimes they have them, and those are also my saviour. Please please just go to office hours. 

If you have writing centers or writing advisors, schedule an appointment with them a few days before your essay is due. You will then have a deadline that’s a few days before the actual deadline, saving you from the panic of not having anything written the day before the deadline, and you will get so much help. They will tear your writing apart and piece them together to be something better than you could ever imagine. Please just go to them. 

For you math kids (or those who need a math class), desmos, wolfram aplha, symbolab, and all those websites/apps are amazing. But, don’t fall into the trap of using them mindlessly. I normally use them for tedious computations and/or to check my work. At the very least, try doing it first before putting it in those websites. Remember, you don’t have those websites when you’re taking midterms/finals. 

Still use them though. Especially for computations that you know you can do. It saves so much time. 

If your prof/TA offer extra lectures or office hours, grab it with both hands and run with it. Seriously, just do it. 

Use spell/grammar checker on your laptop. Please just do it. It saves so much time and effort. 

DO YOUR WORK!

Yeah, yeah, this is on every single tip you will ever see, but this is true. Do your work now, and you will save time when studying for midterms/finals. For things like math and physics and chem, doing your work now guarantees you understand what’s going on now, so that you don’t go half the semester barely understanding what’s going on and have to cram everything before the midterm. Doing the work is really really important because that’s how you learn, so please just do them regularly. You will be lost and confused if you don’t. 

Do your readings! Even if you don’t understand a single word being said in your readings, skim them before class. You’ll then recognize things in lectures, and that will jog your memory. One of my prof once said that if you read the material before lecture, even if you don’t understand it, your first exposure to that material won’t be on the lectures, so you actually learn/understand something from the lectures, instead of just seeing them for the very first time. 

Do the assignments! My prof once told the class about a student that did great on midterms and finals, but never submit any of their assignment, and that student barely pass the class. DO YOUR ASSIGNMENTS

Do the extra credit, if you have them. My women studies class have participation grades, my bio class have participation, my friend’s physics class have extra quizzes. If you can, do them. My friend barely passed his midterms, but got a solid B+ in his final grade because he did all the extra credits. It helps you by adding the opportunities in which you can interact with the material too! 

Go to lectures. Please. Your prof knows what they want you to know, and so those things ARE GOING TO BE ON TESTS. Just go to lectures. I know it sucked, but please just go. 

Miscellaneous

Take breaks! This is also on every study tips you can ever find, but this is very important. One piece of advice I once got was that your brain is a muscle, so exercise it the way you would every other muscle. You don’t go bench-pressing 100kg of weights for hours on end. You go to the gym for a few hours, then you rest. Treat your brain like that. 

Don’t schedule one-hour breaks between classes. It’s not long enough to do anything of actual worth, unless you want that one-hour to be a full-on break. Then go ahead. But don’t think you can do any work of actualy worth in an one-hour break. (It’s because a one-hour break between classes are not actually one hour. You have the time cut off from leaving the previous class, and I usually dither because I know I don’t have anything afterwards. Then you have the time cut off from going to the next class, where I also usually take my time. So a one-hour break between classes are actually more like a half-hour.) 

Schedule in buffer time! You know how sometimes shit happens? This is your fail-safe. Your buffer, to help maintain a pH of sanity. A half-hour here or there. This time can be used if your bus is late, or if you suddenly misjudge how long it will take you to do your assignment, or if you suddenly find yourself needing to curl up in a ball because of cramps. Don’t schedule anything here. You can use it as a break if you don’t need it, but normally you will need it anyways, so don’t keep a few slots open in your schedule to be a buffer. 

Make friends in your lectures! Then you will have at least one reason to go to your lectures. As a bonus you will have someone to study with too! 

Find something nice for you to do, just for yourself. I take ballet classes every week and forget about everything I have to do when I’m in ballet class. It keeps you sane. 

So there you are folks! Stay sane and stay healthy! 

[eirian-houpe]

Disparate Pathways - Chapter 10

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold

Characters: Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Belle (Once Upon a Time), Maurice | Moe French, Gaston (Once Upon a Time), Spinster(s) (Once Upon a Time: Think Lovely Thoughts), Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Blue Fairy | Mother Superior, Black Fairy (Once Upon a Time), Baelfire | Neal Cassidy, Emma Swan, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Colette (Once Upon a Time), Red Riding Hood | Ruby, Widow Lucas | Granny, Dove (Once Upon a Time), Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Wicked Witch of the West | Zelena

Additional Tags: Abusive Parents, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Violence, Gun Violence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Torture, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, UST, First Time, Drama & Romance, Kidnapping, Extortion

Summary: Gold has a past, a past that he has rejected, but it seems one that will not let him go.  Belle, daughter of Governor Maurice French has been kidnapped, along with her mother, and just as the authorities raid the organization that is holding her hostage, decides to make her own bid for freedom, unknowingly derailing an undercover sting, and Agent Milnor has not choice but to take her into 'protective custody,' but is he all that he seems?  As the threads of the story grow more tangled and the threat to Belle, and to Gold, her appointed protector, grow ever more real, a growing, mutual attraction makes everything far more desperate and far too personal for Gold to ignore what he knows to be the truth.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Chapter 10 - Mutual Ambiguity

For Belle, sitting in the Lee of the wall where Jefferson, if that was truly his name, had told her to wait, time passed with all the speed of a snail, and every sound made her more and more tense. She could hear the altercation from outside of the gate, and told herself she didn’t want to know what was going on, but there were just as many sounds coming from her side of the gate, and they were sounds that made her jump at every turn. Each gust of wind that stirred the leaves of the trees sounded like a hand pushing aside vegetation to reach her; every rustle of an animal in the undergrowth was a footstep coming nearer.

As painful as it was, her hands still held tightly to the gun, still trembled around the grip,so much that she almost daren’t rest her finger against the trigger for fear of setting it off by accident.

She heard the sounds from outside of the gate and didn’t really want to imagine what they were, beyond the murmur of voices, the sudden crack and following thud; the sounds of a scuffle then nothing for a long held breath. The silence became a sussurating hiss, and then footsteps, and Belle held her breath so much that her chest hurt with the effort of it. If she didn’t breathe, she wouldn’t be heard, and then the gate opened, and all the breath burst from her with almost a popping sound as she could make out Jefferson slipping through the gate.

“Jefferson…” she managed.

“We’re good. It’s all good,” he said. “I’m fine, but we gotta go. We gotta go now.”

As he spoke he reached out to carefully close his large hand over the top of the gun and lift it from her hands. She heard a soft click from the weapon before he slipped it into his pocket and then reached out his hand again, this time to grasp her elbow and help her to her feet.

Without another word he ushered her through the gate and out into the street, and then she caught sight of the two FBI agents that were sitting, slumped against each other with their hands behind their backs. She took in a gasping breath and tried to pull away from Jefferson, but his grasp on her arm was too strong.

“What did you—” she began, but he interrupted her, stopping and turning to face her, grasping her by both arms and leaning down to look her in the eyes.

“Look,” he began urgently, “It was either me or them. I promise you there’s no lasting damage. They’ll both be fine.”

He let go with one hand and ran it through his hair. She couldn’t quite read his expression, it was something between frustration and contrition. It made her want to listen when he spoke again.

“You probably won’t get this, but those two men are not my people,” he said. “So, until I know whose side they’re on, this is the best I can do.” He nodded his head toward the two men to illustrate what he meant. “If I was wrong, I’ll apologize later, but right now. Right. Now. We have to leave. Get as far away from here as we can as quickly as we can. Okay?”

That was something that Belle could definitely get behind. She wanted to be anywhere but there, and for now, even though she still wasn’t sure of Jefferson, of his intent, she would go along with him. Perhaps more would become clearer later, and he certainly hadn’t done her any harm so far.

She nodded, but didn’t speak. Her gaze lingered on the two men on the ground as Jefferson led her across to the car, and helped her to get strapped in on the passenger side of the vehicle.

“You’re… stealing this car, aren’t you?” Belle accused as he slipped into the driver’s side, then watched his face as he contemplated the answer, as though he were trying to formulate an answer.

“That depends,” he said, and she could tell that it was an answer that he’d had to settle on, not necessarily the one he wanted to give.

“Oh?” hanging on to what little scraps of sanity and adrenaline she could muster, she injected a dash of sarcasm just as though she were mixing some kind of exotic cocktail. “Go on.  This should be good.”

“Well it all hinges on whether you believe those two men there truly are agents with the FBI. The car is is a Taurus, it’s clearly well maintained, and—”

“What the hell does the make of car have to do with it?” Belle snapped, finding mixology, and her skills at said art were not all they were cracked up to be.

“Well, if this is a Taurus, and they really are with the FBI—”

She cut him off again. He was going around in circles. “Is this. Their car?” she demanded, gesturing out of the window to where the two men were still in a heap on the ground, one of them, she noticed, had a slight scrap of lining peeking out of his pants pocket.

Jefferson looked at the men, and then back at Belle, and then at the men again with the same expression he’d had on his face when she first asked him. He pouted slightly, tipped his head to the side, and then looked down at the key fob in his hand.

“Don’t think it matters at this point,” he told her, pushing the key home into the ignition, shifting the car to reverse, and then half turning with his arm along the back of her seat as he set the car in motion, began driving it backwards at speeds she didn’t think were at all appropriate for the less than roomy width of the street, all but singing as he did, “This is a Taurus, they claim to be Feds, and I need a vehicle, so… No.  Not theirs. Mine.”

Clearly it bothered him, though, as he reached the end of the narrow road and swung the car out onto one of Boston’s lesser known side roads he huffed as he shifted the car into drive. Belle left him to his thoughts for a while until they had mingled into the anonymity of the heavier traffic around the center of the town, and then asked, “Where are we going anyway?”

“Somewhere safe,” he said, his eyes ever moving, checking traffic to their left and right, and watching for longer periods of time in the rear-view mirror. “North,” he added at last, turning right, and following a sign that promised Interstate 95.

They drove in silence for many miles, Belle contemplating everything that had happened, feeling her weariness and the pain of her injuries sharper now that she had time to stop and sit in relative safety. She thought about Jefferson too. His actions, his words, his unspoken sense of… she shrugged mentally, unable for the longest time, to find an appropriate word to describe what Jefferson was. He certainly seemed to mean her no harm; claimed to be taking her to safety, and yet he had been there, in the house, with those horrible men and women who did unspeakable things. True, she’d never actually seen him participate in those things, but…  by association, surely he was guilty. She supposed it fair to say that she’d had very little to do with him. He had never been assigned to oversee any aspect of her captivity, and she’d only ever seen him in hallways, or in passing - until today. In fact, she thought, he seemed to hold himself back, refuse to truly embrace the moral turpitude the others displayed. The more she thought about that; about the way he’d behaved since their escape, and about his clear discomfort after their earlier conversation, about the car, the more he seemed to her to be… well… ambiguous.

That was the word she had been looking for all along. He was ambiguous. His entire being was ambiguity incarnate, and while being with him now was a whole bucket load better than being a captive, it didn’t necessarily mean that she was any safer with him than she had been before, and as crazy as the thought sounded, as she spotted a sign announcing that a rest stop would soon be coming up, she decided she might be better trying to go it alone.

“There’s a rest stop ahead,” she told him softly, and raised an eyebrow when he glanced over at her. Then shrugged at him. “I couldn’t really use… well… little girls room, you know?”

He glanced at her again, then back at the highway and she watched as little furrows of thought creased his brow, and shifted the expressions on his mobile face, even into his hair. Then, as they sped past the one mile warning, he let out a soft sigh, and said, more gently than she expected, “Fine, but we’ll have to make it a quick stop for now. There’s no guarantee that someone won’t come looking for us, and I’d rather put a few more miles between us and Boston before we start to let our guard down.”

By the time he’d finished his explanation, the off ramp that led into the rest area was immediately on their right, and he pulled onto the roadway, the rumble of the tires a different cadence and inertia tugging her back from the seat as he applied the brakes. A moment or two later they pulled into the parking space out front of the building that housed the facilities.

She tried to unclip the seatbelt and get out of the car before he could do the same, but the stiffening of her injured hands prevented it, and he had opened the passenger door, and was reaching in to help her, then to take her by the elbow and tug her out of the vehicle, keeping a hold of her in what felt as though it was meant to be a supportive manner, and after closing the door behind her, led her into the building, and almost into the ladies’ room itself.

“Um…” she reminded him softly, nodding her head toward the sign beside the opening.

“Right,” he muttered, and then cleared his throat, but sounded uncomfortable still as he said, “Sorry.”  He let her go then, and she faltered slightly, before she began to walk into the designated rest room.  She hadn’t counted on him being quite so attentive, and cursed herself under her breath, trying to think of a way to get him to be anywhere but hovering outside waiting for her return.

“You… you think this place has any kind of… vending or something?” she asked, turning back to him, where he was waiting, leaning with his arms crossed over his chest, his shoulder against the tiles, feet crossed at the ankles.

“I’m sure it does,” he answered. “Why?”

“Feel like I need something sugary… you know?” she answered, trying not to blush or give anything away as he gave her a long, steady look.  Finally he nodded, and it was all she could do not to let out a huge sigh or relief.

“Five minutes,” he told her. “Meet back at the car.”

“Five minutes,” she agreed, and suddenly she felt guilty for the way she intended to betray his trust as soon as he was out of sight.

[miss-tc-nova]

Confidence Boost - Hermod x Fem!Reader

Hermod is sweet and I like him, but he’s a character I don’t write much of so it’s a little difficult for me to get a grasp on him. Oh well. I still had fun and it’s good practice. 

~~~~~

               Frames nearly slip from my nose. Of course they would start to fall when my arms were full of books requested by the Master.

               “Oh come on,” I grumble, tilting my head back, but that turns out to be too awkward and ridiculous to walk. Just a few more steps into my journey, the eyewear leaps from my face.

               “Woah!” If the voice hadn’t given it away, the blur of gray and green absolutely does. “Hold on.” Fire shoots across my skin when the glasses slide back into place, clearing everything right up—including that smile. “Need some help?”

               At least my voice holds together. “Um thanks.” Lightening the load, the young man accompanies me back to class.

               Hermod: model student, well-mannered, kind, and the object of my infatuation. We started our training together with the rest of our classmates, when my bashfulness was leagues worse than it is now. Connecting to the people I’d be spending the next several years of my life with was way over my head, but Hermod made an effort to include me. The wall I protected myself with started to crumble and my classmates became family; I could never get over the kindness shown me though. That grateful seed bloomed into a crush that is spiraling out of my control. It drives me to seek his company in my free time or to instantly zero in on him when enters into mine. It’s a distraction and a hobby and detrimental to my sanity.

               Shortly after the books are delivered, class starts. Everything goes by as normal until combat training rolls around. Having gone up against Eraqus in a friendly spar, I’m sweating and plop down beside Bragi. Hermod and Urd are up next and I can’t look away from him.

               “Ah, to be a young woman in love.”

               Fire erupts beneath my skin. Eyes turn on Smarmy Fluffcoat who wears the smirk of a fox over a cornered mouse—he’s got his claws around my heart. The rattled brain’s feeble attempt at a warning shove only serves to amuse him.

               “Be nice, Bragi,” our shortest classmate breaks in. “You can’t pick on her for something everyone knows.” That flame is doused by icy blood.

               “Everyone except Hermod,” inputs a passing Xehanort, confirming that everyone does know.

               Fluffcoat’s eyes light up. “Oh, you guys know what would be fun?” Uncomfortable is that look he’s giving me. “We should help our little lovebird here.”

               “I dunno,” Vor hums before I can object.

               The boy in black folds his arms. “Surely Hermod must be close to noticing. Maybe we should just leave them be.”

               “Please. Natural selection will take them out before either of them realizes it,” Smarmy scoffs. “All I’m sayin’ is we give this thing a little push.” The two are seriously considering his plan. “It’ll be easy. We just drop her in front of a monster and watch Brother Bear tear it apart.”

               My jaw drops open but the other two seem less fazed. “That would work except she could just defend herself.” Vor’s answer confirms they’re actually on board with this nonsense.

               Xehanort adds, “She’s right. What if we-”

               I have to interject. “Excuse me! I-”

               Bragi pats my head. “Not now, honey, the grownups are talking. Go play with Era.” The sheer stupidity of the statement shuts me right up, allowing their conversation to continue. Dumbstruck, I wander to the boy in white on the other bench.

               “What happened to you?”

               “The grownups are talking…”

               His response is a look of ‘what?!’ but I know just as much about what they’re planning as he does.

               The knowledge that specifically those three are trying to intervene in something that I was completely fine keeping to myself has me jittery. Just as I start getting back into routine—the second my eyes wander to the model student—I feel predatory gazes and, sure enough, all three are staring at me like a pack of hyenas.

               The final bell tolls and I keep my head down while I collect my things. However, my attempt to remain inconspicuous is thwarted when the reason for my heckling approaches.

               “Hey, are you okay?”

               My heart shudders. “Uh yeah. Why?” You idiot! You know why! Don’t ask him!

               “You just seem kind of tense. Is something bothering you?” If it weren’t for the monsters stalking me, I’d probably swoon over those steel-color eyes.

               Yes! “N-No. I’m fine. Thank you though.”

               His worry dissolves into that little smile I love when we talk. “Do you want to work on the magic assignment together?”

               “I’d re-”

               “Oh no you don’t!” Undignified is all I can use to describe the yelp that escapes when Vor snatches my arm and begins hauling me away. “You’ll have to find another study buddy today!” My pleading look goes unnoticed by the stunned young man.  

               The dragging doesn’t stop outside the classroom; instead, Vor and the mischief boys drag me back to my dorm.

               “Guys, I think this is going too far,” I complain.

               Xehanort is the first to display his neglect of my concerns. “Do you really need these glasses?” All detail drop from the world.

               “Yes, I really do.”

               “Got any contacts?”

               “Yeah, but they’re a hassle.”

               “Go put them in.”

               “But-”

               “Go on.”

               Grumbling, I waddle to my bathroom and find said contacts. When I return, Vor pipes up, “Can you see us now?”

               “Yeah…?”

               “Good! Now your clothes!”

               Leaping out the window almost becomes a viable option while my so-called friends critique my entire wardrobe and put me in dozens of combinations before they find one they’re satisfied with. I admit this is an outfit I wouldn’t have considered nor is it bad.

               “Alright, she looks great, but she’s not gonna get anywhere if she turns to mush every time she sees him,” Xe points out, ignoring my sigh of complaint.

               Bragi aims a finger at him. “What she needs to do is be assertive.”

               These three are going to be the death of me.

               Next comes “confidence training.” It turns out to be extra entertaining—Bragi’s impression of my crush is way off the mark but hilarious to watch while the others attempt to demonstrate what I should be doing; Xehanort is a much more convincing Hermod when it’s Fluffcoat’s turn. In the end, Smarmy’s examples are a little too smarmy and Vor is actually frightening, so it’s Xehanort that becomes my template for confidence, though his level of brazen is still beyond me. Their insistence that I try out a few lines on them has me beet-red but it gets surprisingly easier each time.

               “Alright, I think she’s ready!” announces the other girl.

               Bragi smirks. “What are the rules?”

               Hesitation. “Uh…Be confident, tell him what I want, and…don’t kiss…him?”

               “Bingo!”

               “What’s the reason behind that last one again?”

               “It’s that psychology of leaving someone wanting more,” Xe explains.

               My shoulders droop. “Why is this so hard?!”

               Vor pinches at my cheek. “Because you’re so in love!” She’s going to destroy what little backbone I’ve managed to grow if she keeps that up. “Now let’s go find Hermy!”

               “Now?!”

               The boys shove me out the door, chanting, “Yes, now!”

               Anxiety cools the longer we search for the studious boy though I don’t know if that’s from me getting comfortable with the idea or my hopes that we won’t find him. It’s when we wander outside that both of those options are destroyed.

               “There he is,” Xehanort announces, pointing down the front steps. Indeed he is, sitting just off the brick path with a book in hand.

               “Here’s your chance, girly.” The red-head pushes me closer to the steps.

               Molten butterflies swarm in my stomach. “Guys, I don’t think this is gonna work,” I squeak.

               Vor slaps my hands from fidgeting with my clothes. “It’ll work. Remember, be confident and you’ll have Hermod melting in your hands.”

               One, they’re not going to let me off the hook and two, her promise quickly douses my nerves. With a deep breath, I clear my head. Shoulders drawn, chin up, and steady in my walk, I stride down the steps. My prey, as the trio has drilled into my brain, doesn’t notice my approach which works in my favor. Positive that those fire-butterflies are nesting in my chest, I slide a hand beneath his chin and guide his gaze up while I lean in.

               “Hey there, sweetheart,” I coo. Taking over his face is a red shade that shows off the blue-slate of his wide eyes. It takes everything I have to keep my own flustering under wraps as I tilt even closer, feeling his hot breath brush across my face. “You’re going to take me to go get ice cream.” Lips just barely graze his. A huge sense of pride swells in me when I feel his anticipation. I’d happily give it to him if not for my specific instructions not to. Instead, I follow the plan. “Sound good?”

               His answer ghosts into my mouth. “Yes.”

               Delight showing in my smile, I retreat. His face—cherry red and full of both disappointment and shock—will forever be burned into my memory. Perhaps my friends were right about a little courage.

               “You coming?” I call back. Hermod scrambles after me and one last look reveals my team of coaches grinning.

               It takes significant brain power to maintain my confidence while keeping engaged with the boy. The bravado certainly gets dialed down but we enjoy an impromptu date of ice cream, despite the terrible spies stalking us.

               “Then I found that lazy bum asleep under a tree missing a shoe,” I laugh. “So I might’ve dumped my water on him.”

               His chuckle stirs the flutters in my chest. “Oh! I remember that! Eraqus came in soaking wet and confused! How did he not catch you?!”

               “I have no idea! I biffed it trying to get behind the tree before he found me!”

               Sharing in a bit of schadenfreude—enjoyment at the expense of others—we amble along the docks. However, Hermod’s smile slips. “Are you…feeling alright?”

               My head tilts to see him. “Yeah. Why?”

               “Well, I just…you…you’re acting different.” Hands wave frantically. “Not that it’s a bad thing! I-I was just-”

               Is that how I usually act? A giggle escapes me. “You like the confidence, huh?”

               He sheepishly replies, “Yeah. It’s nice to know what you’re thinking.”

               “You care what I think?”

               Ooo, that blush is so adorable. “Probably more than I should.”

               “What do you mean?”

               Eyes divert. “Um, well…I’ve kind of been trying to work up the courage to ask you out for a while now.”

               It clicks in my head suddenly that those bullies knew; the entire damn time they knew they were setting me up with someone who had a crush on me too. “They’re going to pay.”

               “What was that?”

               “Kiss me.” WHAT?!

               “What?!”

               My demand surprises me too, and it creates a paradox in the rules: in order to get what I want, there has to be a kiss. There’s also the fact that those brats are using us for their own entertainment tonight. So screw it, I’ll disobey orders. “I want you to kiss me.”

               “Uh, hold on! Do you really mean that?!”

               Spite can be one hell of a motivator, and while that may have kick-started my ambition, I can’t help remembering that moment I had him under my thumb. A spasm runs through my chest at the thought of our lips brushing while I made my demands. It takes very little effort to push the boy onto the convenient bench behind him. My mouth quirks as I recreate our earlier encounter. “Would you prefer it if I kissed you?”

               So I’m not the only victim of overheating but I question whether or not the trembling in my fingers is from me or him.

               “Please…” he confides.

               That’s all the permission I need and, gods, I was not expecting the pure gratification of kissing him. He patiently cooperates while I collect my bearings but once the avarice kicks in, every move is met with absolute compliance. Surely he has no idea the knots he’s tying in my gut with each little plea for more—little whines, nudges, twitching in his fingers around my arms. He’s lucky my greed is happy to supply. I’m pretty sure there’s a mix of cheers and protests in the distance, but I’m too preoccupied with the boy melting in my hands, just as Vor promised. If only oxygen wasn’t required.

               Leaving us both breathless, I break it up. The faintest trace of his ice cream lingers on my lips and I don’t miss his eyes follow my tasting of it. No doubt I’m just as flushed as he is but the attention I’m getting is more inspiring than anything those three could’ve taught me.

               Taking his face in my hands once again, I already have Hermod silently begging for another go. Considering his wish, I purr, “Now that’s a confidence boost.”

[canid-slashclaw]

The Outliers - A Guild Wars Love Story

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9,  Chapters 10 and 11,Chapter 12, Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Dear Miss Mouthy,

Hard to believe that it's been over a month since we saw each other. It seems like only yesterday since I looked into those honey-colored eyes of yours. Since then, I've never been able to look at a bed of hay the same way again. And where'd you learn to kiss like that?? I didn't know charr kissed like humans.

Anyway, the army has blessed me with cold showers so at least it helps maintain my sanity. And speaking of the army... our Seraph platoon has been transferred to Sparkfly Fen. I can't say much due to security reasons, but the foe we are now facing are, shall we say, not among the living.

I've named my revolvers Sweetpea (my dad's) and Lulu. (your dad's). Truth is, I can slaughter an army with those things. Oh, and Bob has claimed his share of rotten heads as well... so no saying anything bad about Bob.

Cynthia is in line for promotion to Second Lieutenant and Brad has just made sergeant. Both of them are fine soldiers and good friends.

So how are things going with you in kitty land?

Love,

Your barn fire-setting beau - Kaleb.

"Hey! Steelblade - get that mangy flea-bitten tail of yours over here, now!"

Krenesh Howlingblade yelled as he and his other closest warband comrade, Navina Bladeflurry, were huddled on the barracks floors laughing while sharing some peculiar works of human literature.

Amalthia Steelblade, now a soldier, slid through the opening in the tent as she stood at attention.

"Reporting for duty, sir!"

"At ease, soldier. Come sit down."

"Yes sir."

Amalthia sat in a circle cross-legged along with her warband companions as their leader, Krenesh, handed her one of the peculiar human books. As she opened the pages, her eyes were greeted with an array of some of the most provocative illustrations she had ever seen.

"One of our scouts found those under the beds in some houses located in an abandoned human village in the Ruined front. And now our people have to work with these perverts? Disgusting!"

"You're telling me. I would get a mouth full of spurs if I did anything like that to you Kren," Navina Bladeflurry said with a laugh.

"And here I thought I was brought here for an intelligence briefing. So much for that, I suppose," Amalthia said sarcastically.

"Oh... but you were, squirt. If we are to be all nicey-nice with these sacks of meat then we gotta learn how they think. My impression of them thus far remains far from positive," Krenesh said laconically as he tossed one of the obscene pieces of literature towards the edge of the bed.

Amalthia perused the objectionable material, studying the various mating positions that humans engaged in. Very carefully, she committed them to memory but always being careful not to let the rest of her warband catch onto this fact.

"I hope you don't mind, sir, if I do a little Ash Legion work on these oh-so disgusting pieces of filth."

"Oh by Burnfur's bottom... I didn't need to see that. Can I go somewhere and vomit now?" Navina said, as she held up an illustration of a female human receiving anal penetration from a norn-sized male.

"I swear, if you - or any other male for that matter - even thinks of doing something like that with me, I'll rip more than just the two round things located between your ears," Navina growled then flung the illustrated material to the ground.

"You know, when I was accepted into this warband, I thought I would be fighting amongst a group of charr who had wills of steel and stomachs of iron. Isn't it amazing how a few dirty pictures can turn my bandmates into squeamish sissies," Amalthia chuckled while gathering up the various pieces of cringe-worthy literature.

Moments later, Legionnaire Agnor Gristleback threw open the tent flap as the rush of displaced air caused loose leaves of the obscene material to go flying throughout the tent. The trio tried desperately to seize the fluttering pieces of paper before their commanding officer had a chance to see what a was actually transpiring.

"You three were supposed to check in at camp HQ five minutes ago. Get those shit-stained tails of yours moving now!"

Navina and Krenesh immediately stood up and gave their superior a full-standing salute. Amalthia, meanwhile, was preoccupied with attempting to retrieve the incriminating pieces as best she could. Agnor glared as she danced about apparently ignoring his presence. Her two bandmates made a desperate series of strange noises hoping to snap her out of her single-minded mission.

"Did you fail to notice the presence of a superior officer, soldier? Or are you just trying to find a way of really pissing me off?"

"Neither, sir. Our warband was just doing a little cross-cultural research on our newfound human allies. I would not be a good soldier if we didn’t gain a proper understanding of how our human friends tick," Amalthia said as she began snatching up more pieces of the offensive literature that had fallen around Agnor's feet.

Suddenly, the stalwart Legionnaire let out a laugh that could be heard clear across the base camp.

"That had to be the most creative piece of bovine scatology that I've heard since commanding this outfit. You just made my day, soldier!"

The big charr gave a hearty salute as he backed away from the tent. Navina, Krenesh and Amalthia too returned his gesture.

"Now get your asses to the patrol station, pronto!" Agnor bellowed as he was leaving before seconds later turning back around then pointing under the bed. "You missed a piece over there, soldier. It's the one with the naked human kneeling behind a sheep."

***

The Blade warband marched westward from their camp at Deathblade's Watch. They were assigned to patrol the parameter of Foulbear Kraal keeping a sharp eye out for any signs of ogre activity. Leading the party, Krenesh took point while Amalthia and Navina covered the flanks. Mia Windreaver and Bogo Flutterblade were tasked with covering the rear.

High overhead, the midday sun scorched the landscape while gusty winds whipped up a flurry of dust devils. The powdery sand burned both eyes and lungs as the warband hunkered down to seek respite from the stifling heat.

"Someone toss me a canteen, I'm blowing enough snot out of my snout to build a sandcastle," shouted Navina who was hunched over trying expectorate the excess silt from her mouth.

Amalthia handed her bandmate an extra container of water along with a bandana. "This piece of cloth might save you from a not of unnecessary discomfort. Use one next time, silly."

Krenesh stopped for a moment then pointed towards a rocky impression located several yards in the distance. "That looks like a cave. We'll set up camp over there."

To their fortune, the Blades found a small nook that provided just enough of a buffer from the hostile elements. As they began to unfurl their supplies, the five bandmates built a campfire then huddled around sitting cross-legged in a semi-circular fashion.

"Yer lookin' mighty disappointed, squirt. Spit it out," Krenesh growled as he looked in Amalthia's general direction.

"I think Navina needs to do the spitting, sir."

"Little Miss Mouthy at it again, eh? I've heard all about that potent little puss of yours."

Amalthia looked at her warband leader and said laconically. "Just bored, that's all. I was honestly expecting more action."

"Oh. You'll see plenty of action, sweetie. Trust me on that one," Navina said between hacking coughs.

"Mouthy is right... one month and no action... this IS boring," Mia interjected while tracing some random circle in the dirt.

"Speaking of monthly action... I'm coming into season in the next few days. When that happens, you'll be getting plenty of  action from me - isn't that right, Kren?" Navina smiled devilishly at her mate.

"Is that all you two ever talk about whenever we go on these missions?" Amalthia looked at her banmate 'sister' with a raised eyebrow.

"War is ten percent action followed by ninety percent sheer and utter boredom. What else is there to talk about other than sex?" Krenesh said with a hearty chuckle.

"Whenever you're done with him, Vina, he's mine next," Mia said with a smile and a wink.

Amalthia looked around feeling unexpectedly awkward around the conversation. "Does anyone know what happened to Bogo?"

"Hrmph! That weirdo never likes to sit amongst his mates whenever we have these conversations. He's never shown interest in any of you three gals. Why is that?" Krenesh chuffed as he threw some pebbles into the campfire.

"I'll go check on him." Amalthia stood up then walked over towards the edge of the nook. She saw Bogo’s lone form sitting down, looking towards the far horizon.

She approached from behind then sat down right beside him. "Hey big fella. Not wanting to be social, I take it."

He shook his head then looked at her with his pale blue eyes and said in a downtrodden tone. "There's nothing they are talking about that interests me."

Looking into those somber eyes, Amalthia suddenly realized something. She reached into her jerkin then pulled out a stack of the obscene pieces of literature she had collected earlier. After thumbing through several of the illustrations, she found one that depicted two naked men engaging acts of carnal pleasure with each other.

"Here. Take it," Amalthia said as she shoved the illustration into the palm of his clawed hand.

Bogo looked at the piece then suddenly his eyes began to light up. "Uhhh. Why are you showing me this? It's disgusting!"

Crossing her legs and giving him a wide-fanged smile, Amalthia chuckled. "Use your imagination! Picture two male charr instead."

"Wha!?" Bogo choked as his eyes went wide with surprise.

"It's okay, Bogo. I don't care. In fact, I think it's rather cute how you react whenever you see other males bathing in the river without their clothes on."

"Uhhh. I... ohh, is it that obvious?"

Amalthia laughed. "It's all over your face. Now who's the cute brute?"

He held his breath for a moment before exhaling the name.

"Tovu."

"Do you mean Tovu Whistlewind? Ha! I should have known!" Amalthia gave him an affectionate tap on the shoulder.

"Please don't tell Kren or anyone else. I'll have my teeth pulled and then I'll be placed in front of a firing squad if anyone ever found out," Bogo said nervously.

"Don't worry, Bogo. Your secret's safe with me. And trust me when I say that we all have our little secrets," Amalthia said with a wink as they sat together for the next half hour talking about various mundane things.

When she arrived back at the camp, Amalthia noticed that all of her bandmates had stripped themselves of their gear and were sleeping on the ground wearing only the pelts they had been born with. Krenesh and Mia were cuddled together while Navina lay off to the side purring in contentment.

As Amalthia approached, one of Navina's eyes sprang open and she quickly shot up to greet her diminutive bandmate.

"What a pity you missed all the action. Did you and Bogo have some fun too?" She asked with a sly wink.

Amalthia shook her head. "Our relationship isn't like that. But I'm happy that the three of you got your grooves on. By the way... I thought you were not in season?"

"Hey! That doesn't mean I have to wait. Anywhoo... I'm still feeling the urge. Wanna do some kit on kit?"

"Um. Hell no!" Amalthia bristled.

"Oh. So touchy! You're not one of those... lifers are you?"

"Lifer?"

"You know, the kind that refuses to share themselves with anyone other than that one 'special' partner."

"You make it sound like a bad thing."

"No. Not at all, sister. I think it's pretty neat that you have someone so special that you are willing to make such a sacrifice," Navina walked over as she affectionately stroked Amalthia's golden mane with her cinnamon-colored hand.

Amalthia looked up at her much larger bandmate and smiled.

Navina held Amalthia closer then asked. "Who is this special someone? I would very much like to know more about them."

Looking briefly into Navina's eyes, Amalthia reached behind her bandmate's head then pulled her in as their furry muzzles locked in a brief but passionate embrace of the tongues. Stunned by what had just happened, Navina backed away.

"Ugh! Isn't that something humans do with each other?"

Amalthia smiled at her. "Admit it, you liked it!"

Navina pursed her lips for a moment then nodded. "I kinda did, in fact. You are welcome to do it again to me anytime. Round two?"

"No. That was only a sampler. Now that I showed ya how to do it, you can do it to both Mia and Kren. This muzzle is reserved for only one," Amalthia smiled as her ears twitched in excitement.

"That must one lucky kitty ya have there. Is he as faithful toward you?"

"He has no reason to be otherwise."

"What's the name of his warband?"

Amalthia rolled her eyes, then placed her clawed finger to the bottom of her lip as she thought about it for a moment. "Grim. Yes, the Grim warband."

"What's his name?"

"Kaleb Grimwald." Amalthia replied.

"Kaleb Grimwald, eh? That's a pretty weird name for a charr. No matter... what’s he look like?"

"He's tall for his type, broad and very horny," came Amalthia's carefully worded but vague description.

"You really aren't giving me specifics. C'mon! Now really... tell me what he looks like!"

Amalthia looked at her non-clothed 'sister' and smiled. "You have an imagination, so use it."

"Fine. Keep your closest warband sister in the dark. Just see if I..."

Bogo suddenly ran into the camp shouting at the top of his lungs. "Ogres approaching!" (Chapter 14 is also up on Google Docs)