#so i told him all the things that worry me about how she uses statistics

[gimmeacupcake]

Uhm... so ... my ex?boyfriend that I still live with until he graduates in October (and hopefully goes on to find a job soon so he can move out) is starting to blackpill himself with questionable relationship and men's issues content on yt

and also refuses to sit down and talk about my problems with the kinda content he watches

This worries me.

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt. 2

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst.

See My Masterlist Here

Part One

Tonight was the night you were going to confess your feelings to Spencer. You couldn’t keep it to yourself anymore, it was too painful. You were worried you would lose him when you told him, but you thought there was a good chance he felt the same.

You spent all afternoon cooking his favorite foods, planning for a night of cuddling and love making after you got the confession out of the way. When you were finished getting dressed, Spencer knocked on your door.

You invited him in, taking your seats at the table. You ate in silence, your nerves making your stomach hurt. “I have to tell you-“ “We should talk.” You spoke over each other. You smile, giggling with excitement. Spencer wanted to talk too. This is going so well.

“You go first.” You prompt him, smiling wide at him. “These past six months have been so fun. But I think our time together should come to an end.” You try to swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself not to cry.

“I want to keep it professional at work. We can still be friends, we will just take the sex out of it.” He explains, studying your face. All you can do is nod as he rattles on about how the statistics of such a relationship show that the longer you did it, the harder it would be to end it.

You used to love hearing him spout a million facts about whatever topic he was talking about. But not tonight. “So what did you want to tell me?” He asks, serving himself more food. “Um, I was just going to tell you that book I ordered you came this morning. I thought you would be excited.” You rise from the table, retrieving the thick book from the counter and bringing it to Spencer.

“Thanks.” His smile breaks your heart. You can feel that your attempts to keep the tears at bay are failing. “Why don’t you take the food with you? I’m suddenly not feeling well.” You tell him, as you turn your back to get the lids for the bowls. You hand them to him, turning your back as the tears start to fall. “I’m going to lay down. Lock the door behind you.”

If he thought your sudden illness had anything to do with him, he didn’t act like it. Spencer was right about nothing changing. He was the exact same as he had always been with you, just without the sex.

Spencer was heartbroken. He didn’t want to end his sexual relationship with you. But he couldn’t put himself through the pain anymore. He spent all of his spare time with you. He couldn’t keep you off his mind. Things had changed a few months ago. He had bent the rules he set in place so he wouldn’t fall for you.

You had started spending the night and cuddling. Spencer had fallen fast and hard. But he couldn’t go through every day knowing you didn’t feel the same. So he had to end it, as painful as it was for him. It was no secret that you had been hooking up. But he didn’t want to talk about it with anyone.

Until two weeks after he called it off, he was so upset, he broke down and talked to Derek. He wanted to know all the details, but Spencer only told him the important information. “I have an easy fix for you, pretty boy.” Morgan smirked at him. Spencer leaned in, excited there was a solution.

“You know what they say, if you want to get over someone, get under someone else. You just have to sleep with someone and she will be the last thing you’re thinking of. Works for me every time.” Spencer cleared his throat. “Easy for you to say. I’m lucky she agreed to sleep with me. I’ll never find someone else so quickly, and I’m not sure I would want to.”

“I know someone who has been into you since she started here.” Derek boasts, nodding his head to the blonde at the coffee pot talking to Rossi. “Ashley?” Spencer squeaked, while Derek laughed.

Ashley Seaver was one coworker you could not get used to. She was impulsive, always throwing herself into trouble. You couldn’t stand her. Not only for how she acted on the field, but for how she looked at Spencer. She wanted him, and she didn’t care who knew it. She was all over him from the second she started working at the BAU.

She even knew that you and Spencer were hooking up, but she didn’t care. She used every opportunity to touch him or say something flirty, making eye contact with you the whole time she did it. Luckily, Spencer was oblivious. When you mentioned how she hung all over him, he said he didn’t even notice. He was too busy thinking about the case or the thing you did with your tongue the night before.

So you stopped being jealous. It wasn’t like you had any right to be. You and Spencer were just hooking up. If he wasn’t interested in her, then you would just let it go. The last time she tried anything had been a month ago. You were sick and she invited Spencer to go eat after work.

Spencer being the nice guy he is, accepted her offer. While they were out, he talked about you the whole time. She had told him to stop talking about you, that she was right there and she wanted whatever he was willing to give. He politely turned her down, but she was furious. She kept her distance from both of you since then.

That’s why you were confused when you heard her squealing and giggling, saying Spencer’s name as loudly as she could. You looked up from your mountainous stack of paperwork that you came in early to work on to see Spencer hugging her.

There was a vase of roses on her desk. “I can’t believe you got these for me! What a surprise! I knew you would come around!” She almost yelled, looking directly at you. Spencer took her hand in his, “I wanted to get you something before our date tonight, but I wasn’t sure I would have time to get them after work.” He explained shyly looking at her.

That little shit! Was he actually blushing? Was he seriously going on a date with Ashley tonight? And what is with the roses? He never once got you flowers. Did he call things off with you to date her? Seeing them together made you feel sick. Actually, the temperature felt like it rose a hundred degrees. You needed to get up now. You ran to the bathroom making it just in time to throw up.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @13430ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck

[onpointedfeetandbrokendreams]

Day 1 - Painland Week

Day 1 of Painland Week 2024: August 5th - August 11th by @painlandweek

Prompt: Language of Love

Tags:  Post-canon, Slice-of-life, Alive Niko Sasaki

TW: None

--

“And that is another case closed,” Edwin says, moving the card to the correct column. “Charles, you were brilliant. Very good job.”

“Crystal, add another one to the list.” Niko doesn’t raise her head from the sofa, so the words are a bit muffled, but Crystal nods, busying herself with her phone.

“Will you explain what it is you two are doing? You’ve been talking about this list for days now,” complains Edwin, not liking the feeling of missing pieces of information.

“Not yet, we will explain when we have significant statistical data,” Crystal says cryptically. Her smirk only makes Edwin’s unease grow.

Charles puts a comforting hand on his shoulder and laughs. “I’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about, mate.”

Crystal and Niko nod at each other in silence, and the former focuses back on her phone.

Edwin’s eyebrows furrow. It’s been six months since they came back from Port Townsend, they have managed to save Niko from the Neitherlands and have created this new normality in which Niko and Crystal live next door to their office in London, go to school in the mornings and solve cases with them in the afternoon. And while it is probably true that this secret list they are keeping is something harmless - otherwise they would be more secretive about it - he has a bad feeling about it.

“Crystal, I’ll have you know that people have been speaking behind my back for the entirety of my human life and I am not keen on repeating that experience now with people I consider actual friends.” He knows it is a very low blow to use their friendship as a leverage like this, but he is tired of not understanding.

It has the expected result, because Crystal grimaces, and Niko’s lips turn downwards. The two exchange another look and Crystal huffs. “Ok, fine, I’ll tell you. But you are no fun.”

He can’t help the pleased smile from his face.

“We are keeping score of how many times a day you two say ‘I love you’ to one another,” Crystal continues. “For now, Charles is winning.”

“What?” He and Charles say at the same time.

“Yeah, look,” says Crystal, turning her phone to show a blank screen with two columns marked ‘Edwin’ and ‘Charles’. There are twelve tick marks under Charles’ name and eight under Edwin’s.

“I know you don’t like me very much, Crystal, but I didn’t think you would be so cruel.” Edwin told them all in confidence about his unrequited feelings and Charles’ response that nothing would have to change, because he thought it was fair, and to avoid awkwardness with Crystal in case she and Charles wanted to continue to pursue their relationship. It was not something he thought would be used against him.

“Didn’t you hear what I just said? Charles is winning.”

Charles levels her with a stare, as if in warning, slowly removing his hand from Edwin’s shoulder - he pretends not to be disappointed.

Niko, who had been silent until then, stands up solemnly. “We love you, and we want you to be happy, but your dancing around each other is getting worse every day, and we think you need a push.”

“I don’t understand, surely I did not say that I love Charles eight times since you started that list.” He doesn’t add that most definitely Charles did not because they all know how things stand between them.

“There are more ways to say ‘I love you’ than just the words,” Niko continues. “We have been observing you, your love language is words of affirmation” - she points to Edwin - “while Charles uses all of them except that one. This is why you don’t understand each other.”

Edwin has never been more confused in his life. “What is a love language?”

“It’s the way you express your love, there is gift giving, words of affirmation, physical touch, acts of services, and quality time,” she counts with her fingers. “For example, you just complimented Charles on a job well done, that’s ‘word of affirmation’, and yesterday when we were leaving, he asked you to read to him while you two rested, that’s ‘quality time’.”

“Two days ago, at the art exhibition, Charles made me buy three art books he thought you would like, ‘gift giving’,” Crystal continues. “And I am sure I don’t need to explain ‘physical touch’, right?” she looks pointedly at his shoulder where Charles’ hand had been just a moment prior.

Edwin smooths out a nonexistent wrinkle from his jacket with his hands. “That means nothing. We are best friends, of course we show various forms of affection to one another. It is not a romantic thing to comfort someone or buy them a gift.”

Niko takes his hands in her own to stop their fidgeting, which he is grateful for because it gives him something to focus on other than the way his head is spinning.

“You’ve been best friends for an entire lifetime,” says Crystal, “and you still can’t go one day without swearing eternal devotion to one another. We were just trying to give you two some solid evidence to mull over, you are detectives, deduce what you want.” With that, she shoves her phone in Charles’ hand and turns to the door. “Come on, Niko, let’s go to sleep, it’s late and I still have some readings to do for school.”

Niko squeezes Edwin’s hands reassuringly one more time before letting go and following Crystal out of the door, with a cheerful “see you tomorrow”.

“I apologise, Charles, I did not anticipate they would try to pressure you like this when I told them about my feelings. I just meant to clear the air between me and Crystal, to explain my initial jealousy.”

Charles is unusually still, looking at Crystal’s phone in his hands.

“Are you okay?”

At his concerned tone, the easy smile instantly reappears in Charles’ face. “Sure, aces.”

“So, you are not cross at me?”

“Course not, why would I be?” Charles continues, but he does not meet his eyes.

“I will talk to Niko tomorrow, and try to get them to drop this.”

Charles looks distant, like he is not really listening to him. He decides to give him some space and goes to check their new potential cases on the board in order to change the subject.

“What do you think about this haunted house? It’s probably just children pulling pranks, but maybe we should check it out?”

“They’re right, aren’t they?” Charles says.

“Who? The children?”

Edwin turns to look at him, confused, and the smile that appears on Charles’ face is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. He would clutch his heart if he still had one.

“I noticed it too, I just didn’t want to stop and think about what it meant, but that’s not fair.”

“I- what?” Edwin’s mind seems to have stopped working.

Charles looks sheepish. “I have been more flirty and affectionate towards you after, you know…” He doesn’t say Hell, because it’s a word they try not to pronounce too often, but he doesn’t need to.

“Charles, please, let’s not reopen this discussion. Yes, you love me, as a friend, I have never doubted it. It is different from the way I love you and things are perfect the way they are.”

“No, that’s the thing. I am not good with words, but I have been thinking about it, and I have been showing it, with actions, I just didn’t realise I was doing it until they pointed it out. I will have to buy Crystal and Niko the biggest cake ever.”

This is the last straw, the prank has been going on far too long. “So what, now you are buying them a gift, in this stupid scenario they planted in your head does that mean you are in love with them too?”

Charles seems to break out of a daze at the words. “No, of course not. I don’t spend every moment of every day thinking about what could surprise them, or make them happy, or what new things we could try together, that only applies to you. It has always applied to you and it always will.”

Edwin is having an increasingly hard time in not letting hope consume him. “Please, let’s be serious.”

“But I am!” Charles shakes his head, walking closer. “When you confessed to me, I didn’t really know what ‘being in love’ meant, but I do know this feeling. And maybe if I stop pretending that nothing changed, I can find the right words to express it, too.”

“Is this a very elaborate way to ask me to hug you more in return?”

Charles grins mischievously. “I mean… I wouldn’t complain.”

[erideights]

With my 6th sense. (3)

Pairing: Hunter x fem! jedi reader

Rating: SFW

Wordcount: 3K

Chapters: (1) (2) (4)* (5)* (*not posted yet)

Warnings and tags: extremely light swearing from frat boy Hunter (because no one can tell me he didn't before he became all soft in TBB), canon-typical slight violence, tension between characters, maybe plot convenience (but let's be real, who doesn't add it?? The Clone Wars was just it all the time)

Summary: Another day, another suicide mission for the squad. This time commanded by a jedi general Hunter doesn't seem to really get along with.

A/N: I've been struggling a bit with making Hunter so distrustful, thinking it was maybe out of character, and then I rewatched episodes 1,2,3,4 of The Clone Wars season 7 where they are introduced, and actually saw how suspicious he was of Echo at first. So yeah, it's pretty accurate and I love it. Enjoy!

Blurred streaks of light turn into distant stars as the Bad Batch’s shuttle, the Havoc Marauder -she still wonders who chose that name but will wait some more to ask- drops out of hyperspace, Serenno now looming ahead. Tech worked thoroughly to disguise their shuttle as a Separatist cargo vessel during their long trip, modifying all their scanner parameters, and now they are moments away from testing his handiwork and to see if the general's creative idea is a stroke of genius or a suicidal move.

Hunter’s mind is a swirl of doubts, tension painfully pulling from his muscles while seated in the copilot seat. Usually, when he’s the one that proposes the reckless strategies, he doesn’t worry so much about the outcome. Maybe because if everything goes wrong, he would blame himself, but this time he wouldn’t have that privilege. He glances at his General as his thoughts wander to her, far too relaxed given the circumstances. That playful smirk tugging at her lips and how calm she seems to be does little to ease his nerves. In fact, it infuriates him more. Her confidence is both reassuring and unnerving at the same time.

“Alright, everyone, get ready,” Tech instructs, his hands flying over the controls. “We’re approaching the Separatist control station.”

And as on cue, the mechanical voice of a battle droid echoes through the cockpit. “State your designation and cargo,” it demands.

Tech adjusts his goggles and leans in, voice steady and authoritative. “Shuttle TR-77, carrying supplies for the main base on Serenno. Transmitting clearance codes now.”

Hunter’s jaw tightens as silence falls over them. Oh, he really doesn’t trust this plan. What if they see through the ruse? What would happen if a damn droid decides to take a peek through the front of the ship?

The jedi, sensing his unease filling the room like toxic gas in a locked closet, leans closer to his seat, calmly resting her arm against it. “What’s the matter, sarge? Don’t trust Tech’s hacking skills?”

Before Hunter can respond, his lip twitching in what she would say is close to a snarl, Tech beats him to it. “Actually, based on the statistical data and previous successful infiltrations, there is a 97.6% chance this will hold up. The algorithms I use to—”

“Tech,” Hunter interrupts, keeping his eyes on the screen, “focus.”

“Roger roger, TR-77, you may approach and land,” the droids finally confirm.

Hunter exhales slowly, thinking he is subtle enough, but he isn’t. “See? Told you it would work,” she says with a playful grin, chuckling lowly.

Wrecker, on the other hand, slumps back in his seat, clearly disappointed. “I wanted some action.”

“Just wait,” Crosshair says dryly, biting into his toothpick. “Things always blow up eventually.”

…

Everyone’s getting ready by the time the cargo ship descends smoothly through Serenno’s atmosphere, the planet’s thick cloud cover parting to reveal a dense, sprawling forest below on its way to the main base. Tech’s hands move deftly over the controls, detaching and guiding the shuttle to a discreet landing spot near the edge of the forest. The ship lands with a soft thud, -smooth in comparison to the disaster the sergeant pulled off hours before-, and blends seamlessly into the surrounding greenery.

Hunter’s gaze sweeps over the calm landscape before he turns to his team. “Alright, lads,” Hunter calls them, drawing everyone's attention to him, his tone commanding while reluctantly checking everything is in place with his new outfit. “Let’s get this started. Crosshair, you stay here near the Marauder. If things go south, we’ll need a quick escape. General, you’re with me on the front. We’ll scout ahead and ensure the lab is clear once we find it. Tech, you’re with Wrecker.”

So, he’s the one giving orders now, huh? (Y/N) raises an eyebrow and rolls her eyes at how bluntly he ignores her rank and command, her authority to be the one to give the orders there, but keeps her thoughts to herself because, in the end, he knows best how his squad works. Hunter’s need to assert control could be a problem, though. “Want to keep an eye on me, sergeant? Afraid I might steal your thunder?”

Hunter’s expression remains hard to read, he could be annoyed or incredibly calm at the same time. He steals a quick glance at her, though. “I just want to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

She nods, pressing her lips in a cocky frown. “Sure thing.”

And so, with their roles established, the group splits up. Hunter and (Y/N) are the first to go into the forest with Tech and Wrecker close behind, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. The canopy above is dense, allowing only slivers of sunlight to pierce through, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.

Hunter’s enhanced senses stay on high alert at all times. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig, the humidity in the air around them, and the wet earth underfoot, he hears it all, smells it all. He crouches low, his improvised, ‘’undercover’’ helmet under his left arm, examining the ground where faint tracks of heavy machinery have disturbed the soil, he guesses, a month ago. “This way,” he huskily murmurs.

The jedi just watches him work, intrigued by his meticulous nature. She relents her steps at some point, letting Tech and Wrecker reach her and then, she leans softly to the first. “Remind me what he… does, exactly.” She inquires kindly, raising an eyebrow in the direction of the squad leader.

The clone, who was just checking his datapad until now, looks at her and then at Hunter, nodding in understanding. “He’s just tracking. Hunter’s abilities are actually extraordinary. All his senses are heightened to a level and precision that are almost superhuman. He can track a target through environments that would be impossible for others, or feel electromagnetic fields around him.”

Amused and finding that genuinely interesting, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Does he, now?” That’s the closest thing to a… physical, weaker version of the Force. More or less. “That’s impressive.”

“Indeed,” Tech continues, more than happy to talk to whoever was ready to listen to him. “The Kaminoans designed him with an acute awareness that allows him to detect even the faintest traces of a trail. But it’s not just physical; his brain processes these sensory inputs at an accelerated rate, making him an unparalleled tracker.”

And from there, she assumes correctly, comes his name. Originality might not be their strong suit, but it… suits him and that inherent masculinity that seems to ooze out of every pore of his skin. And she must admit, she has heard much worse.

The Jedi nods, now in deep thought, her eyes lingering on Hunter’s back as he leads them through the dense forest. He moves with the precision of a well-oiled machine, every step calculated to avoid detection. Though, she highly doubts there’s anything to worry about there in the open; according to their -Tech’s- calculations, security, both outside and inside, should be minimal. After all, they are deep in Separatist territory, only someone desperate or straight-up (borderline) suicidal would even think to try to infiltrate.

With ease and guided by their human map -better than calling him loth-wolf- the team gets deeper into the forest, the mechanical sounds of the hidden laboratory under their feet growing louder and more annoying inside the sergeant’s ears. And then he stops, raising a hand, signaling them to halt. ‘’This is it.’’

In front of them, in a small clearing surrounded by younger trees than what they’ve seen before, stands a stone structure no more than 3 meters high, covered in fallen leaves and vines. A good way to make it pass slightly more "unnoticed". Judging by the way there is absolutely nothing behind it, it is easy to assume it is an elevator.

Tech approaches the concealed entrance, his fingers dancing over his datapad. “Definitely the place. I’ll start bypassing the security.”

Hunter turns to her, his gaze steady. “Stay sharp. We don’t know what’s inside.’’

“Well, in that case maybe we should find another way in first and make sure it’s clear,” she suggests, her eyes scanning the ground, her feet taking her from one side of the lab entrance to the other. She starts kicking at the large piles of dry leaves accumulated, without success the first three or four times.

The hell is she doing? Hunter frowns, curious, arms crossed and senses alert, but he doesn’t seem to hear or feel anything nearby besides the lab. ‘’What do you suggest, General?’’

“Ventilation ducts,” moving a few meters away, in the direction of one of the few thick trees she spots around, she bites her lower lip, focusing on finding them and proving her point. ‘’An underground base must have ventilation ducts to the surface, right? We both could sneak in and wait for them inside.’’

Once in front of the large, tall, and open roots of the tree, she takes a closer look, squatting on the ground. Inside them there only seem to be dead leaves and some mushrooms, but a blinking light, very small but red, proves her right.

She scoffs ‘cause in the end, the Separatists and the Republic are not so different; there are very similar shelters on Naboo with the same technique to cover their ventilation ducts and secret doors to escape. “Found them.”

That was really clever. Smart. And there’s a part of him that’s surprised of not having thought about it himself. So as Hunter approaches from behind, taking a look over the Jedi, he nods to himself, pleased and annoyed in equal parts. Though he wouldn’t admit it. Nor let it show. He is too proud to give her any kind of credit, but… he likes her style. 

He just finds her perky personality annoying.

She looks back over her shoulder, her lips curling into a playful smile as soon as she catches a glimpse of approval in his eyes. Her head tilting in a gesture that invites him to go with her. “Shall we, sarge?”

…

Her feet land softly and silently on the pristine metallic floor of the base, Hunter behind her with a subtle, deaf thud. Their movements are silent and precise, not daring to pronounce a single word until they verify it's all clear. Both start walking around in sync, searching for the elevator door to let the others in. The interior is a stark contrast to the forest outside—sterile, metallic, and illuminated by cold, fluorescent lights. The walls are clean, with a couple of terminals next to each door. The air is filled with a faint hum of electricity and the occasional beep of automated systems in the distance or mouse droids. It is a place of cold efficiency and clinical precision, a far cry from the natural chaos of the forest above.

Under his helmet, Hunter’s eyes scan the corridors, picking up every detail around them. The sterile smell of the lab, the faint whir of machinery, the subtle vibrations of the floor—all of it loud inside his brain. "Clear," he whispers, his voice barely audible.

(Y/N) nods and sends a quick message through her comm to give the green light to Tech and Wrecker still outside, closing her eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. She might not have his cool enhanced, superhuman senses, but she has an extra one, her 6th one, that’s not warning her at all of any possible threats at this precise moment.

The other two clones don’t take long to reach them, with Tech immediately moving towards the first terminal he spots. His fingers fly over his data-pad, connecting to the system. "I’m in. Closing the cameras on loop and downloading the map of the lab now," he says, eyes focused on the screen. The personification of efficiency right there.

Looking at him from the corner of her eye, she would swear Hunter seems to relax for just a moment thanks to the lack of activity around them, his eyes fixed on the end of the open corridor, his mind racing even if his body doesn’t show it. "Find the communication center. That’s our primary target."

Tech nods, his eyes darting back and forth. "Got it. This way."

Moving through the labyrinthine corridors of the lab, passing closed rooms filled with half-constructed droids partially visible from outside, workbenches cluttered with tools, and scientists’ notes scribbled on boards, they find no more than a couple of scientists working in the distance, too distracted to notice them. As they pass another set of closed doors, though, Wrecker can’t resist peeking through a small window. "Looks like more droids in there," he mutters mostly to himself. "Probably more trouble waiting for us."

Let’s hope not.

Giving him a playful look, nudging at his arm, the jedi pushes him softly. "Keep moving, Wrecker. We’ll do some sightseeing next time."

"There won’t be a next time," Hunter grumpily corrects her, incapable of shaking off the feeling of being watched, even though he knows and feels there's no one doing so, and it’s just his paranoia. And she cannot help but glance at him again, over the black mask covering half of her face, his tension so strong she swears she can taste it through the Force. "Relax, sergeant. I thought your team enjoyed risky missions."

But the sergeant keeps walking, his eyes jumping to her for a second, shaking his head lightly. "We do, but I would rather fight a male yalbec than be balls deep into separatist territory."

"Fair enough."

And to keep being fair with his concerns, she must admit, it’s somehow unnerving not finding anything or anyone through the corridors. Almost too convenient, even if they already count with a minimum to nonexistent level of security.

Then they reach the communication center and Tech connects right away to another terminal in the middle of a control panel in the center of the room. And as he works, Hunter’s unease grows. Every second feels like an eternity inside that hell of a place, and he would love nothing more than giving Wrecker thumbs up to blow it all, and then he hears it. Something moving, or better said: a lot of things moving. In their direction. Slowly.

"Wait—" but it’s too late, the moment Tech connected his data-pad to the control panel, his actions triggered a silent alarm that woke up some droids. "We are about to get company," Hunter hisses in a low tone, pulling out his vibroblade.

Wrecker’s face lights up with anticipation. "Finally, some action!"

"Technically, it’s just a small guard squad checking for a false alarm. If we hide..." Tech starts talking fast, already searching for solutions to the problem.

"We can’t hide him," The General interrupts to point at Wrecker, noting matter-of-factly as she peeks out the hallway to check where the droids will arrive right after. "Have you blocked external communications?"

"Since we entered," he assures her with a small nod.

"Good. Let’s take care of these droids quietly and get out of here," Hunter orders, to which everyone nods without exception. Wrecker more reluctantly; he wanted a good fight.

‘’And remember—’’ squinting her eyes, she first glances at the sergeant, then at the biggest clone; so the one she trusts the least, basically, he enjoys maybe too much the idea of destroying everything. ‘’If we see the droid we came looking for, don't touch the motherboard. We need to bring the control unit intact to Coruscant.’’

A couple of mechanical voices give away the arrival of a squadron of battle droids within minutes, an experimental one for the way it doesn’t seem fully finished, sleek and deadly, keeping its distance in the back, silent, observing. Its design is already more advanced than the classical ones, with a menacing, insect-like appearance.

With a hiss, the regular battle droids open the doors and not even a second later, Wrecker smashes the head of one of them without mercy or having taken a real look at it. Hunter stabs another, as (Y/N)'s lightsaber cuts the third in half. Their big boy, true to form, engages the last one with sheer brute force, enjoying every second from the moment he lifts it into the air until he slams it against a wall. 

That was dramatic, poor droid.

"Is that all you got?" Wrecker taunts, grinning from ear to ear.

But unbeknownst to them, the experimental droid that kept its distance analyzed the situation from afar and seeing one of the intruders connected to the terminal, it bypasses the others, faster than the group can predict, and zeroes in on Tech. It lunges, pinning him to the wall by his neck, its mechanical fingers tightening. Tech's eyes widen in shock, his hands scrambling to pry the droid's grip from his throat.

And from here… everything happens just. so. fast.

Hunter doesn’t hesitate, vibroblade in hand, he plunges the blade into the droid’s motherboard in the back of its head, stabbing strong and deep.

"Hunter, wait! That’s the one we n—" The jedi scream comes too late. She didn’t think she would have needed to scream at all. But there she is.

The droid sparks and falls limp, and an ear-splitting alarm blares to life. Red lights flash throughout the lab, bathing everything in a crimson glow. The sound of the alarm echoes through the corridors, a harbinger of the chaos to come.

Silence falls over them as Hunter pulls back, his movements fluid, but his eyes wide with realization as soon as he processes (Y/N)’s warning. This cannot be happening. "Kriff—"

[la-principessa-nuova]

omigodomigodomigod

I did not expect this to be how my day went. I wasn’t even sure I was going to leave home today, but I ended up coming out of more than just my house.

For a few years, my mom and my sister have been pressuring me to open up more about my feelings, and mostly they just wanted to know about why i was bothered by talking about my dating life (or the lack thereof) and stuff like that.

Lately they started to get the vibe that there was something big I wasn’t telling them, and I just dodged questions because I’m bad at lying about serious things.

So today since the three of us had work off, I went to my parents house my sister went and they went in the pool and we talked a lot and whatever. But my sister ended up drinking a lot (which she never does), and was really focused on getting me to open up and talk about whatever I haven’t been sharing, and weirdly instead of shutting down completely or melting down I just like tried dodging questions like normal.

She asked if I was gay and if i was trans multiple times (while my dad was either inside while we were outside or asleep on the couch) and I lied and said no, but I clearly was lying because I hesitated so much.

But I kind of wanted to tell them, but I was hesitant in case my dad woke up and because I had some worries about their ability to tell no one.

But eventually we went to my house and then eventually I got to the point where I wanted to tell them, but it just didn’t feel like “the moment”, like I was put on the spot and under pressure to answer what my big secret is, but I couldn’t bring myself to just say it. I felt like I needed a big grand gesture or to play a song or wave a flag or something.

But then as I’m struggling to get it out and my sister’s husband was waiting for her outside, my mom asked, “are you transgender?”, and I said something about how I was struggling to say it but then said, “but yes.”

And it just didn’t feel real. Like it wasn’t me saying it, and it felt so unnatural to be serious.

And then followed hours of Q&A (my brother-in-law gave up waiting and went home), and they were clear that they will be supportive, but my mom clearly has a long way to go to actually accept it. She clearly has been seeing a lot of the anti-trans propaganda because she immediately brought up detransitioners, talking about it like it’s this big new trend of people detransitioning in droves, but I just corrected her and told her the real statistics (best I could from memory).

And then at 1 AM, we all got in my car and I drove them home, and instead of grabbing my keys and wallet out of my purse in private, I just grabbed my purse. And it is a relief that they know. Part of me wishes I could have planned something and done it more on my terms, but I probably wouldn’t have done it, especially not any time soon.

Now the hard part is figuring out how I’ll ever tell my dad. He is just so bigoted and obsessed with conformity to a made-up, more restricted definition of masculinity than even most bigots are obsessed with that he has somehow gotten ingrained in him.

But for now at least there’s only one person who doesn’t know that I have to figure out how to tell. There’s extended family, but I can cut them out no problem, because we barely talk anyway. And if people at work find out before I’m ready it will suck, but I can always change jobs if it gets that bad.

[deceasedream69]

TRAUMATIC

Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, cursing.

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

I started to slowly open my eyes. My head hurted a little bit, from the back mostly. But my neck... the pain was worse there cause I was hunched while I was unconscious.

I tried to move my hands, but they were tied. I relaxed against the chair, trying to steady my breathing.

-" see... how beautiful she is", said a guy in front of me. I couldn't recognize his voice. "you're going to get us what we want, pretty thing", said another voice behind me. He brushed my hair gently with his hand, and nodded to the guy in front of me.

The other guy also nodded, leaving us both alone in that small room.

The walls were dark, and everything was wet because of the lately storms.

I was actually somewhat calmed. They haven't hurt me, and the only appeared to be two guys. I've had it harder.

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

Spencer's pov

it was really weird that she didn't come to work today, or sent me funny videos last night. I always wake up and boom, 3-5 videos she sent me and a goodmorning message. But today, nothing...

Maybe she was sick, yeah, I didn't want to think anything bad. Even if statistically kidnapping was a really high chance, even higher with the fact that she's a woman, and even higher because of our job. But I was really scared of thinking of one of the worst scenarios. I was probably overthinking everything.

-"Hey pretty boy, you ok?"

-"have you heard from y/n?", I licked my lips and fidget with my hands.

-"no, she didn't talked to you last night? you know, while you discussed nerd shit", Derek smiled and hit me on the arm, playfully.

-"no... that's why I'm worried"

-"awww, that's cute, Reid. You finally have someone to carry about", Emily invited herself into the conversation.

-"I care about you all", Did they think I don't?

Hotch appeared and told us we had a case. We all stood up quickly and went to the meeting room.

____________________________________________________________

y/n's pov

It's been a day. They tortured me in so many ways. But my favorite is when they take a towel, put it on my face and then drop water until they almost choke me, it's so much fun!

No, but honestly it's sick how they record everything. I hate that stupid little camera, with the stupid little red light signaling that it's recording. Those are some twisted psychos.

-"Are you going to cooperate now, doll?", said the tallest, pulling me from my hair.

-"what the hell are you talking about?", I was tired, confused, hungry... so many bad things.

-"psht, we know you spy us through pigeons, that's something obvious"

-"yeah!", the other guy was holding a beer, they were clearly put of their mind. At this point I already lied about pigeons being spies, the water being contaminated, clouds being holograms, and other stupid shit. But they wanted more and more, and if I said something they didn't want... it'll be worse.

_____________________________________________________________

Spencer's pov

-"they're sick!", JJ covered her mouth. Derek was so close from hitting anyone that'll looked at him wrong, Garcia had tears forming in her eyes and Hotch was even more serious than usual.

And me... I was all. Seeing how they tortured y/n, and we barely had any information to worked with. She was always so nice to me, a sunshine that made my days brighter. I didn't even like to use my phone at all, but seeing the messages she sent me made me smile everyday.

I know dating someone you work with is unethical, but I didn't care if we didn't even got to that point, at least I wanted to make sure she was going to be safe. But we had to act quickly.

____________________________________________________________

y/n's pov

-"God you're so pretty but so stubborn", the guy was holding my face with one hand, I could feel how badly he wanted to slit my throat with the sharp part of the bottle he was holding on the other hand. "record", he said plainly, and the other obeyed. "make this one live, I want this to be a warning".

The other guy only nodded. I was nervous as fuck, but I had to seem calmed, I didn't want to give them the satisfaction.

-"cars can't... fly... Does you car fly? does it? and why is it so important if they did?"

He slapped me. I can't believe a drunk ass man just slapped me cause I told him cars can't fly. But well, another freaky sunday... or was it saturday.

____________________________________________________________

Spencer's pov

-"Garcia", we were on our way to a suspect's house, but we were pretty sure it was them.

-"yes sir, um... I don't know if I should tell you this right now, but they're live"

-"show us, babygirl"

Garcia nodded and Derek took put his tablet. I got closer to him to see what they were doing to her this time. And what I saw...

____________________________________________________________

-"Careful, ladies, you don't want to hurt yourselves with that broken glass"

-"pfft, we" he got really close to my face. "are going", and he got even closer. "to hurt... you", he put the glass on my cheek, pressing hard.

The pain was so hard, a few tears scaped my eyes.

-"God damn...", I whispered.

-"God?! now you want to believe in God?!", He said walking away from me, like ready to throw a whole speech. "You know NOTHING about God", he pointed the bottle at me.

-"I know God wouldn't do this", I looked at him through my eyebrows. Some blood dripping from my cheek.

-"oh you're so sure about that?", he said almost whispering.

I slowly nodded.

-"would he do this?"

_____________________________________________________________

Spencer's pov

Derek kicked the door but I was the first one to walk in. My gun in front of me, ready to shoot those assholes.

But there was no one...

-"Here", Hotch yelled, and I quickly followed his voice.

There were a bunch of pictures of us scattered all over the kitchen table.

-"this is creepy", Said Derek picking some pics and looking at them.

Suddenly a loud noise came from behind a wall. Everyone lifted their guns, prepared for the worst, when the wall unexpectedly opened, and y/n ran to me.

-"Spence! help!", she said hiding behind me, she was covered in blood, almost naked, except for her underwear and a thin tanktop.

I put my gun down, knowing that the rest of the team could handle the bad guys.

-"y/n", I caressed her cheek but she flinched. So I moved my hand, putting my gun back into the holster. When I turned back to look at her she just collapsed into my arms. "y/n? guys! I need an ambulance!"

____________________________________________________________

y/n's pov

-"Spence..." my voice was very low. I could feel my eyes burning from how bright the light was around me. I felt something touching my hand and I quickly moved it away from it.

-"y/n... it's me..." A voice said slowly.

I opened my eyes and a smiled scaped my mouth.

-"hi...", he said slowly again.

-"hi...", my voice raspy.

-"I'm glad you're okay"

-"I'm glad you're here"

A/n: I'm sorry I dissapeared lol, requests always open.

[onlyonetifosi]

I don't want to

-> Word Count: 1810

->Author note: I would appreciate if you send some ideas or requests for me to write. English is not my first language so sorry for mistakes <3

I'm so excited to meet Lando's family! His niece is adorable and I can't wait to play with her. Lando is such a great guy, and I know his family will be just as wonderful.

His sisters Cisca and Flo are going to be there aswell as Oliver, his older brother and his wife and daughter Savannah and Mila. I can't wait to meet them all. Lando speeks wonderfull things about everyone.

-Baby, you have the lego's for Mila?- I ask my boyfriend while leaving our house to get in his luxurious papaya mclaren to go to his family's house in Bristol.

-Baby, of course I do. You know how much I love my niece.- he responds kissing me on the forehead as we get in the car and start our drive to his family's home. We make small talk about work and our plans for the future as we drive, and before I know it, we're pulling up in front of a beautiful house.

Lando opens my door for me and helps me out of the car, then we walk hand in hand up to the front door. Lando's mom greets us at the door with a big hug and a warm smile.

-Hello, you must be Lila. Lando has told us so much about you. Come in, come in.- she says as she steps aside to let us in. We step into a beautiful home with a warm and welcoming feeling. Lando's mom leads us into the living room where we're met by his brother, sisters and his dad.

Everyone is so friendly and I feel right at home. We spend the day playing games, chatting and getting to know each other better. It's been such a great day and I'm so glad I got to meet Lando's wonderful family.

It was almost lunch time and I was with Savannah feeding Mila some fruits and playing with her new lego's, wich she loved.

While we were doing so, Lando, Adam, his dad, and Oliver were chatting looking at us.

-I see why you love her, you are made for eachother, she's so sweet and caring and she's going to be a fantastic mumone day- His dad said. Lando smiled and nodded getting up from the couch and walking over to us. He bends down to pick us up and kisses me on the cheek before laying Mila on her playmat. -Hey babygirl- he says while kissing her head, she gurgled at him and he began talking baby talk with her. I couldn't help but laugh watching them together, it was so cute! We were all sitting there chatting when Lando's phone began beeping. He was looking at his phone mouthing sorry to me as he put it to his ear.

-What?? No? No you can't be serious! Okay... okay... I'll be right there! -He ended the call and stood up running his hands through his hair, obviously stressed out. His family must have seen the concern on my face because they all jumped up asking him what was wrong. -It was Zak asking me to go to the factory tomorrow- he explains and I feel very sad for not being able to spend all week at his house like we were planning. His family start to leave the living room and he turns back to me. -I'm so sorry that I have to work on our first week together.- He looks really sad and I can't bare seeing him like this. He walks off in the direction of his room not looking back. -Wait!- I call out after him but he just keeps walking up the stairs and I listen him closing the door loudly.

-Lan, open the door, it's okay baby, I'm not mad or anything, it's your job and I accept that- I try to convince him to open his door beacouse he locked it.

I hear him move around a little but he doesn't open the door. I can't take it anymore and I go lie down on my bed. I look at the time and it's 11:00 PM, he still isn't back are anything. I'm really worried about him so I decide to go see if he's doing okay. -Lan baby, please open the door- I beg him to come out and open the door but there's no response from his side.

-Lan, please baby, they're really sorry, they say that the statistic of his last sim practices didn't went good and they couldn't do much more than make you repeat them- I try to explain to him why he had to work today so maybe that can calm him down a little bit. But there's still no response from his side.

-Baby, please, let me in- I beg again but now tears run out of my eyes beacouse this is just getting too much for me. The only sound that comes from his side is him crying quietly which makes me cry even more. Suddenly the door unlocks and opens slowly revealing a very sad looking Lando whose eyes are red from crying and he has some wet marks on his cheeks where tears have dried up already. He looks up at me with red puffy eyes as he tries not to cry again when we stare at each other for what seems like forever before someone steps into view behind him making him plop onto the floor right after stepping out of his room causing an extremely loud sound!

I immediately jump back scared of what might happen next because something tells me that this isn't going to end good. The house get into a tense atmosphere including even Mila who can see something is wrong.

Lando looks up at me from the floor with a hurt expression as he silently cries while trying to keep himself together, I want to go and hug him and tell him everything is going to be alright but I don't want to make the situation any worse than it already is. He starts to pack his things to goback to Woking on the morning but i decide to make moves beacuse i can see how this is affecting him so i call his bosses.

I borrow his phone to have their numbers and i call them.

-Hello, Zak Brown talking, who am i talkin to?

-Hello Mr. Brown, Im Lila McMillan,Lando's girlfriend- I explain to him

-Oh, yes i remembre you Lila, what can I help you with?

-Lando is devastated because having to work more, beacuse his exhausted mentally and physically of last week and we are in bristol in his childhoom home with all his family, I call to ask if it's extremely necesary or if it can be done next week as it was scheduled ? Please Mr. Brown, we really don't want him to leave and I'm pretty sure he is not able to fly, I hope this is a clear message.

-Yes it's clear Lila, take care of him very well- see you in Woking.

I go back to the table where Lando's sitting with his family, they are all talking while eating breakfast so i sit next to Lando and I grab his hand under the table but he pulls away slightly. -Lila! What have you been doing?- i take my phone out of my back pocket and show him our texts.

-I just talked to Zak Brown to let you rest in peace and enyoying your holidays alone with no worries.- I explain to him with a smile in my face.

-Lila, you can't do that- he panicks

-Late, I already did.

-I'm gonna kill you if i get fired.

-Lando, everything will be fine. The can't get a new driver mid-season. -He starts to calm down a bit but still he looks concerned.

-Lila, you know we have a reserve driver and not for nothing- he says while looking me in the eyes with so much kindness that i feel my heart pounding fast in my chest, it's so close to mine that i can hear its beat.

-you are an idiot do you knew that?- I say with all my heart in my words. He looks at me for a few seconds and looks like he's going to say something but then his little sister comes over and sits on his lap after saying hello to me. He pushes her away quickly, walking off towards the lake so she throws some of her breakfast at him and we all laugh when we see Lando getting mad at her.

You quieten down slowly as you finish eating and help his mother clear the table up but she asks you to go see if his father in his studio because he wants to talk to you about something important. You leave the table quickly, thinking that it has something to do with Lando but when you get there you find yourself more confused than ever because his father shows you some old family albums and explains to you how this place is gonna be your home from now on and how they already consider you part of the Norris family.

You start tearing up and you wrap your arms around his neck. You were about to thank him when Lando finally walks into the room and he looks very happy. He asks his father if they can have a word in private and after an intense staredown between father and son, they finally walk out of the room. You're left there alone in the studio but with more questions than answers. Lando comes back to the studio a few hours later and he gives you a small smile before grabbing your hand and leading you towards the forest, saying that he wants to show you something important. When you arrive where lando was leading you, you see a small cabin and once you both entered you see a fantastic room with petal roses in the bed and wine.

-We are going to spend tonight here and cuddle all day- he explains while hugging me from behind. -This is our own paradise and nobody knows about it, not even my father- he adds.

We spend the night in front of the fireplace drinking wine and eating strawberries. Lando was really happy and you spend the evening talking about future plans and playing games to see who knew each other more .

-You are the first person who knows about this place- he confesses.

The next day we spend in Lando's cabin, we make love all day and we don't leave the bed. -I want to stay here forever with you, I don't ever want to leave your side- he says after making love.

You feel exactly the same and you can't imagine your life without him anymore.

I hope you like this! send me whatever you want to my asks.

I would love to know somethin about you!!

And would you like a mention list? like for me to mention you in my fics

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Making It Work (Chapter 2)

To say they had failed their compatibility test outright would be untrue.

“You failed the personality portion of your compatibility tests completely,” Auror Higgins said as she handed them some papers, which Harry knew showed scores and statistics from their tests. “You scored only 23% on the personality portion. Your emergency response indicators were somewhat better, you were 43% compatible.” Honestly, that was better than Harry had imagined. During that portion of the test, it had seemed like his gut instinct was never the same as Malfoy’s.

“Interestingly,” she said, “Your physical response compatibility was at 62%, which indicates that even though you initially had different instincts your responses were made to benefit the other more often than not.”

“What about our magical cores?” Harry asked. Magical signatures and cores couldn’t really change over time so if he and Malfoy failed this part, there was no point in working on anything else. If two people had drastically different power levels they couldn’t be a suitable match.

“Actually, this result was most surprising of all,” Higgins said. “You’re a 98% match,” she said.

Harry and Malfoy both sat stunned for a moment, then as if they shared a link in their brains they tore through their result packets to find that page.

She didn’t seem to be offended by their disbelief. “I know,” she said. “I was surprised, too. I ran the numbers three times.” She shrugged, “Auror Potter has never had a partner closer than a 75% match in this category. Auror Malfoy came closer with his former partner at 87%. I’ve never seen two people closer than 92%.”

Higgins got that gleam in her eyes that Hermione sometimes got right before she dedicated herself to unraveling a particular mystery. Harry couldn’t help feeling nervous that she wanted to make them into test subjects or something. 

“It tells us you’re both very powerful wizards," she continued. "Above-average certainly, which we knew from your initial tests when you joined the Aurors. But more importantly, it tells us about the makeup of your Core magic and your magical signatures.”

“Right,” Harry said before she could go on anymore about how compatible their magical cores were. “So, can you remind me what the scores need to be for us to pass?”

“The overall average must be at least 75%, with no individual part under 60%.”

“So, Potter and I only have to change 40% of our personalities for this to work,” Malfoy commented dryly and if anyone else had said it Harry would have laughed but as it stood he couldn’t give Malfoy the satisfaction.

“Well, yes and no,” Higgins said. “Really, the personality portion should be the easiest for you to change. It’s an indicator of intrapersonal relations more than anything else.”

“You’re saying all Malfoy and I have to do is learn to like each other.”

“Yes,” she said, as though that would be simple. “If I were you, the thing I would worry about is your emergency response indicators. That is what is most concerning to me. Personalities indicators change over time, it’s easy to grow to like someone, our statistics prove that; I’ve been trying to get them to weigh that portion of the test less for ages. The harder thing to change is a person’s gut instinct. It’s harder to change your responses to what’s happening in front of you.”

“Great,” Harry said with a sigh. “Thanks for your time. Anything else we should know?”

“Robards told me to expect to see the two of you at least twice a week to run the tests on your compatibility.”

“Yes, I would like to get our scores up as soon as possible,” Malfoy told her. “I hate desk work. I’m sure Potter can agree with that if nothing else.”

Harry grunted in response, he agreed with him but that didn’t mean he wanted to say it. 

“Well,” Malfoy said, “Thank you for your time, Therese. We’ll get out of your hair and leave you to your work so you can get home to that gorgeous baby and rogue of a husband of yours.”

“Bye, Draco,” she said with a smile, then she nodded at Harry, “Auror Potter.”

Harry followed Malfoy out of the room after wishing Higgins a good night. “Why do you do that?” he asked.

“What?” Malfoy returned, glancing over his shoulder at Harry.

“Call everyone by name, know things about them,” he said gesturing vaguely.

Malfoy looked at him like he’d grown two heads, “Why do you think Potter? They’re my coworkers.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at him, surely there was more to it than that. 

Malfoy threw his hands up in the air, “Whatever, Potter. I’ve got things to do, I’ll see you in two hours.” He strut away and Harry couldn’t help but be envious of the easy grace the man seemed to exude with each step. 

Shaking his head, he made his way to the floos, he had a lot of explaining to do to Hermione and Ron before he had to meet Malfoy in two hours.

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

Chapter One | Chapter Three

[pensat-i-fet]

A Manchester Affair (Rúben Dias): Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Chapter 6 

Masterlist

Wattpad

"Morning!”

“Morning, Diogo. You ok?” “I am. But I have a question for you”.

“Go on”.

“Do you mind if my girlfriend follows you on Instagram?”, he asked.

“No, that’s ok”, she answered and saw him picking up his phone, to tell his girlfriend, Lucía assumed. “Why does she want to, though?”

“So you can be friends”, he smiled. “Maybe? She gets lonely sometimes being away from home. So maybe you can chat there a bit and see if you have things in common, apart from me, I guess”, he laughed.

“Ok”, she said. 

"No pressure. But I thought you would be happy to meet more people here. Anyways, I'll see you later. I have to go".

"Yeah, bye".

And then she was left there to wonder what just happened. But, as Diogo said, it would be nice to maybe have another friend here in Manchester. Someone closer to her age too. When she saw the new account that was following her, she followed her back. Nice to meet you, Claudia.

Later that day, they all travelled to Southampton, where the team was playing the next day. It was an early kick-off which meant an early night.

Lucía sat on the plane with Scott and told him about her date from the previous day. Obviously omitting names. Too early for that.

"You should talk to him. He sounds like an alright guy, he would appreciate you opening up to him and being honest. Like you have been with me".

"I guess. I just…I just panic whenever he tries to talk. Talking to you is easier. I don’t know".

"I get it. But if you don't explain things to him, you can't expect him to know how to behave around you either".

"I know", she sighed. "I'll talk to him".

“Soon?”

“Soon”, she sighed again. Not convinced how she would approach that chat.

"Good girl", Scott said, kissing her temple and using his turn to talk about his date. She wished things were as simple for her as they were for him.

**

Rúben hadn't messaged her since their disaster date, so she decided to be the one who took the first step today.

Lucía: hey. Good luck today. I'll be back home tonight. Do you want to meet? I could get some food on the way home for us 😊

Rúben: sounds good. Text me when you are back.

So, everything seemed to be fine. She worried for no real reason.

The match ended with a tight, but satisfying, 0-1 win for United. The first time the team won two matches in a row since February. When she heard that statistic, she wanted to go shake Erik and ask him what the heck he was thinking when signing for this team. But he liked a challenge. He always had.

After the team landed in Manchester, she immediately checked the rest of the scores. City won 4-2 at home against Palace, but they were actually 0-2 at halftime. Everyone was talking about their great comeback.

She picked up some food on the way home, as promised to Rúben. Something delicious but that had the post-match approval.

Lucía: I'm home. Come here whenever you want. I got food 😄

A couple of minutes later, there was a knock on the door and she remembered Scott's advice of talking to Rúben, so she didn't plan on just jumping his bones without even saying hello. Not this time, at least.

"Hey, congrats on your win", she said, smiling at him.

He smiled back. "Congratulations to you too. It must feel nice to finally have a winning streak".

"It does, yeah. You hungry?"

"Starving".

They walked to the kitchen where she started to put the food on plates.

"It looks great, thank you", he said when she gave him his plate.

"You're welcome, but I just bought it so it's not a big deal".

"I still appreciate it".

Both of them were eating in silence and it wasn't the kind that feels comfortable. It's the one that makes you nervous.

"So…ummm…do you want to talk about the match?", she said, trying to break the ice.

"It was a bit crazy, I guess. We are conceding too many goals lately and I'm a defender so, not the greatest feeling".

"But you won. It's better to work on fixing things while you are winning".

"Sure", he said, going back to looking at his plate.

What was she supposed to do now? Another date, another disaster. They really only knew how to do one thing.

"Are you ok, Rúben? If you are not feeling alright and want to go home, I'll understand".

He sighed. "I'm just moody today. I'm sure you can improve my mood, though".

As he said that, his hand went to her thigh. She looked up to see him staring at her. 

"I'm not hungry anymore, you?", she asked him.

"No. Come with me".

And so once again, the talking didn't happen. But how could she complain when he made her feel so good?

**

At 6.15 her eyes opened, as they did every day, but instead of jumping out of the bed, she just stayed there thinking. Rúben was next to her, his head on her shoulder. She stared at him, at how beautiful he looked while sleeping and wondered if she could get used to this image. To waking up every morning looking at him. 

Her mind went back to the last few days she woke up next to her ex. The days after she started to suspect he was cheating. She then closed her eyes and tried to take that image out of her head. Rúben didn't deserve to be put in the same thought as that asshole.

Before she realised it, 15 minutes had passed and Rúben's alarm went off. She had actually never seen him waking up before, but this time she followed his every move with her eyes.

"Good morning", he said. "You are staring".

"Stop being so handsome and I'll stop staring".

He laughed.

"Sorry I was weird yesterday", he said, surprising her.

"What do you mean?"

"I was off and…I just felt weird after the other day, when Jack showed up".

"Why? Did he say something?", she asked, wondering if Jack had been talking about why she really was at his place.

"No, but, you left".

She sat up, hoping the movement would clear her mind a bit and help her understand him.

"What do you mean I left? Jack was there".

"Yeah, and you didn't come back after that".

"Was I supposed to?", she was really confused.

"Well, I thought we would spend the night together. I actually was fearing you would kick me out last night".

"What?"

"It's just friends with benefits, right? Maybe the cuddling after sex is not part of it. I don't know".

She didn't know him well, but still, it surprised her to see him being so vulnerable.

"I like cuddling with you", she said, not knowing how to respond to his words.

"You do?"

"Yeah, you're really big and warm. It's nice".

He chuckled at that. 

"Let's go have breakfast", he said, leaving the bed. Lucía felt like the conversation was not finished but also didn't know what else to say. So she followed him to the kitchen.

**

"You got the day off, then?"

"Yes, but I have plans", she answered.

"Oh, what kind of plans? If you don't mind me asking".

"I'm meeting Diogo, obviously you know him from your national team, and his girlfriend. She wants to meet me and see if we can hang out. Other women she knows here are the player's partners and most have kids so, you know, she just wants someone to maybe hang out with every once in a while. We’ve been chatting on Instagram and she seems very sweet".

"That's nice. Are you getting on well with the players?"

"Sure. I mean, I was already friends with Lisandro in Amsterdam and De Gea is from Madrid like me, we talk a lot about home. And McTominay has actually become a great friend, so…I can't complain".

"Are you hanging out with McTominay's girlfriend too?", he said, looking into her eyes as if trying to find whether she would tell the truth.

"He doesn't have one".

"Right".

The awkwardness came back after that. They both finished eating in silence. And when they were done, Rúben grabbed her by the hips and put her on his lap. She gasped at the action but then started to laugh.

"When will I see you again?", he whispered in her ear while he started to kiss behind it and then all over that side of her neck.

"I don't really know, we have a really busy week".

Her hands went to his hair and she pulled lightly so she could bring his mouth to hers. The kiss was as passionate as all of their kisses were. 

"Let's make the most out of the hours we have left before my training then".

He then moved her legs so they were around his waist and got up easily while carrying her. And they really made the most out of that time.

**

“Oh, there she is”, she heard when she finally spotted Diogo and his girlfriend, Claudia.

“Hi, I’m Lucía. It’s nice to finally meet you in person”, she said, offering her hand. But Claudia hugged her instead. She already liked her.

“It’s so nice to meet you too. Do you want to go grab a coffee or something? We can get rid of this one easily”.

“Hey”, protested Diogo.

“Sorry, but I sometimes need some girl time, you know?”, she said, making him shake his head but smiling at his girlfriend. Lucía couldn’t help feeling a bit jealous seeing how they interacted. 

“So, tell me a bit about you. You didn't mention much in your texts”, said Claudia.

Lucía, being her usual self, felt a bit uncomfortable after that request, but she briefly told her the whole life story…missing some parts that she wasn’t ready to tell to someone she just met, no matter how nice she was.

“What an interesting life. I’m so jealous you got to live in so many places”.

“It has been alright, yeah. What about you?”, asked Lucía, changing the subject away from her.

And Claudia was happy to be the one talking now, telling her about her childhood in Portugal and the time they spent in Milan when Diogo was on loan there. She was already planning a girl’s trip to Milan for the two of them.

The whole time couldn’t have been nicer. Claudia seemed like the sweetest girl and they got on incredibly well together. It actually felt like they had known each other for ages.

“We can do this again whenever you’re free or bored”, said Claudia when they were about to separate to go home.

“I’d love to. You have my number so you can also let me know if you ever fancy hanging out”.

“Perfect!”, she said, hugging Lucía again.

“See you tomorrow”, she said to Diogo.

**

“Leices-ter”, you said again.

“Almost”, laughed Scott.

“I’m sorry, it’s a weird way to pronounce that city. You English people are so strange sometimes”.

“Scott is Scottish, remember”, she heard Luke say.

“Sorry, I must have gotten so used to the thick Scottish accent, I don't even hear it anymore”.

“Shut up”, said Scott, shoving her away from him.

Both Luke and her kept laughing at his expense. 

"Anyways, gotta make it 3 in a row today", she said. "When was the last time that happened?"

"Well, my daughter wasn't even born", said Luke.

"I don't think she was even conceived", added Scott, making them all laugh.

But thankfully, the 3 out of the last 3 ended up becoming a reality. It was another tense 0-1 win, not a 6-0 like City's, but they give you the same amount of points for both wins.

And it meant both she and Rúben had reasons to celebrate when they met the next day.

**

When she woke up on Sunday morning, Lucía could immediately tell something wasn’t going well. Her body was covered in sweat and trying to sit up proved a huge challenge. She was feeling so dizzy, that she could barely move. 

She grabbed her phone from the bedside table to send a message to Erik and let him know how she was feeling. He wouldn’t be awake yet, so there was time for her to try and get a bit more sleep and hope it would help her feel better. But she didn’t manage to sleep again and the dizziness only got worse. She felt the room spinning even when she was laying down. 

She suspected what it was, but recounted the symptoms anyway: dizziness, high temperature, and her stomach didn’t feel great either. There was no headache but she knew it was a migraine. She got them sometimes, often without the headache, and she knew it would mean a whole day in bed, if not more.

That’s when she sent another voice note to Erik letting him know. She already knew his answer would be to stay home but waited for the confirmation.

A couple of hours later, the interphone buzzed and she managed to get up to answer it. It was one of her colleagues from the medical team coming to check she was fine and to bring her some food and drinks. It thankfully seemed like getting some food on her stomach, and especially hydrating, had made the dizziness a bit better. So she moved from her bed to the sofa to try and watch some tv. Or mostly listen to it. Being ill was really boring.

At noon, she got a text from Rúben asking about meeting tonight after United’s match. She debated whether to tell him she was sick or not, but there was no way she could do much more than lie down today. Not the plan he would have been expecting.

She ended up telling him the truth in a voice note. What was the point of lying about this? 

“Hi, Rúben. I’m actually not going to the match today. I woke up feeling sick because of a migraine and I’m home and won’t be able to see you. I can barely move from the sofa”, she laughed. “Have a good day and I’ll see you soon”.

She put the phone down to relax again but soon heard the doorbell ringing. Another bout of dizziness came to her body when she got up but she pushed through it to go open the door…and found Rúben there.

“What are you…”, she tried to ask but her body failed her and she almost fell to the floor. Thankfully, Rúben’s reflexes would pass any exam and he caught her before she could fall and hurt herself.

“I guess I don’t need to ask how you’re feeling”.

He lifted her in his arms as if she weighed nothing and started to walk. “Bed or sofa?”

“Bed”, she whispered, the energy completely gone.

He took her to the bedroom and placed her gently on the bed. “Do you want to be under the covers?”

“No!”, she said a bit louder. Her entire body was sweating again and she couldn’t fathom the idea of being covered by blankets right now.

“Ok”, he said, brushing her hair out of her face. “What do you need?”

“Water”.

And the moment the word came out of her mouth, he was on his way to the kitchen to find a glass of water. He helped her sit up slightly to drink and she sighed at how good it was to feel the cold liquid giving her body a small break.

“You should have called me the moment you found out you were ill”, he said, still caressing her hair.

“It’s your day off”, she whispered, eyes closed. Enjoying the feeling of his fingers in her hair.

“You being ill is more important than a day off”.

Slowly, she noticed that she was falling asleep and she didn’t fight it. It was just what her body needed right now. And she knew it was having Rúben next to her that allowed her to get some rest. Maybe he was right and she should have called him earlier.

[sepdet]

I had to get another 12 vials of blood siphoned off, so it's time for another exciting installment in The Vampire Diaries, brought to you by the Anerican healthcare system.

Let's call this The Stigmata Phlebotomy Lab Strikes Back, shall we?

Content warning: blood, needles, medical incompetence

Recap: For those of you just joining us, in 2022 I became a statistic for the COVID + mild autoimmune diseases like arthritis can trigger "autoimmune dysregulation" studies. That means the immune system starts running around screaming THE SKY IS FALLING and attacking one's own organs in an attempt to flush out intruders. (Ew, I just realized, it turned my T-cells into MAGATs/Tories.)

Good news, the target was not my lungs.

Bad news, two words you never want to hear together from an ophthalmologist: "eye melt".

After many creative ($$$$) measures, what saved my eyes were eyedrops made from my own blood plasma, because we're resorting to medical witchcraft now. (Platelets, apparently.)

So. Vital Tears? Saved my vision. Trouble is, their phlebotomists are auditioning for Monty Python.

The Hostile Housecall Sketch. When I couldn't see to drive, I had to invite a vampire into my home, which was a little awkward for an introvert who's had to self-isolate since 2019. I'm sure my manners were rusty, but still, she was the most uncommunicative medical professional i have ever met, sort of an anti-dentist. I fumblingly suggested the dining room after she didn't reply to my "Welcome, I'm [name], this is my first time so I'm kind of nervous!" I realized afterwards that she never told me her name. I know she must have spoken at some point, but all I remember is stony silence.

Sterile Procedures? In This Pandemic? Next time I drove to the lab hoping to find a more friendly med tech. And I found one! He was very friendly while dropping all twelve vials of my blood on the floor again and again because he kept setting them on a rounded stool instead of a table. Quoth he: "Don't worry, it happens all the time. The last patient was nervous about it, too, but I told him not to worry about it!" I was not altogether reassured. Maybe I shouldn't have looked at those Health Advisory flyers on the way in warning about a drug-resistant candida aureus outbreak in county healthcare facilities.

Operation Stigmata. Today'a score: 5 phlebotomists, 9 rubber gloves, 3 glasses of water and 2 low sodium V8s before the appointment and 2 liters of water during, 7 cotton pads. 8 bandaids, ~15 disinfecting sterile swabs, 3 rubber tourniquets (sometimes 2 at once), EIGHT different needles and EIGHT different punctures, and 2 hours to fill 12 vials with blood.

I almost made it through without losing my temper — the last thing you wanna do is antagonize someone putting a needle in you— but after one particularly painful bit of windshield wiper subdermal probing, I finally burst out, "You're 90 degrees to the vein...I've never seen anyone do that before!"

Still, apart from that, I kept up my Model Patient persona pretty well. At the end, when one of the women said, "Thanks for being so patient," I replied with a firm, "Thanks for sticking with me... pun intentional."

I'm honestly impressed. Both elbows feel like I've been assaulted by Woody Woodpecker, but it took a dedicated team effort to outdo the phlebotomist who left me with major bruises and visible needle marks at my high school graduation 35 years ago.

Now, how to bribe the vet who draws blood from my cat into practicing human medicine without a license.

[karlachgale95]

Hearts of the Multiverse-Chapter Eight: Royals

Monitors showing who had ended up here, why they mattered, powers, statistics, and so on were displayed on the monitors he’d asked Lyla to collect data on every single anomaly located within this universe. As to who decided to mess with the stretched, frayed, and exhausted fabrics of the multiverse, Miguel had yet to find out. As to the individuals plucked from their own worlds, timelines, and universes, well there were some interesting ones. Something was messing with the precise tracking, but the original anomaly was in this scrambled universe.

              Gwen, Hobie, and Peter were here. He wondered if they were helping Miles. It was a good possibility, especially given how he…no…he wasn’t taking responsibility for this. If they were lurking around here, he’d make sure they weren’t trying to obliterate the timeline any further.

              “So, how’s staring at the screen going?”

              Jack Harkness. An unexpected ally in this mess. Apparently, he dealt with multiversal catastrophes and crises far more than the average secret organization to helping all life remain, well, viable. Still, he wasn’t on Miguel’s level of trying to keep it all in check. Miguel knew that.

              “Harkness,” he muttered the man’s last name.

              “Seriously, shouldn’t you be doing more fieldwork?” Jack asked, almost in disbelief.

              “I catch monsters and anomalies by observation rather than recklessly going out there and risk screwing it up.”

              Jack took a sip of either tea or coffee. It didn’t have strong odor. Must be tea. He’d heard there was a pretty good tea shop out there, run, of course, by someone who didn’t belong in this universe. But everyone needed to make a living somehow. Miguel wouldn’t worry about that until he found a viable way to open back up a path to other dimensions.

              “How’s that worked out for you?” Jack asked. “From what I remember Lyla and Jessica had said something about a huge, potential danger to the multiverse. You know, one you let get by you.”

          ��   Miguel scowled. “I didn’t ‘let’ anything by me. It was others who failed to do what they were told, including Jess.”

              “Alright then.” Smug asshole.

Jack took a seat at one of the tables in the comm room. Miguel had to hand it to Director Lusamine and Mr. Joestar. Both had donated a lot of funds to ensure their project of getting the multiverse back in order was on target. Then they hired a team of elite scientists to figure out how to deal with this jumbled mess.

              Miguel had people to take care of the monsters, too. The only problem was, there were two of them, and a lot of monsters in a lot of different places. Sure, Redfield and Kennedy were fast, but these monsters seemed to be spawning in at rapid rates now. Nonetheless, they handled a mass outbreak at a gardening festival the other day. Fifty-two carrot daimons.

              “Oi, did JoJo say when he was going to be back?” a cockney voice asked in the back corner of the room.

              The man’s name was laughable, at first. Robert E.O. Speedwagon—like the band. Apparently, Joseph Joestar knew him, but he didn’t know Joseph. After explanations were given, the blond man had taken to calling Mr. Joestar JoJo. He, too, had been helping with observations. Had Joseph not testified on his behalf, Miguel would have never considered having him help. Turns out, he was good at spotting monsters on the streets. They were able to deal with most things quietly and efficiently.

              “He’ll return within the hour,” a darker, deep, woman’s voice commented. Her name was Shadow Weaver. Despite the ominous nature of her name and look, she was great at sensing magic. She turned to Miguel. “I’ll be back soon. I am going to search for anyone I recognize. They may be of use to us.”

              After she walked out, someone else scoffed. “And she isn’t creepy at all. Miguel, why did you let her into this little…club?”

              “It’s not a club, Darius,” Miguel said pointedly.

              Said man rolled his eyes and went back to molding the small abomination he’d created on the table.

              Dealing with toddlers would have been easier. He was a dad once. Parenting was easier than controlling a bunch of man-children!

              It was. It was easier.

              He dismissed thoughts of his daughter from his mind. He couldn’t think about her now. He had so much work to do. He pulled up footage on the screen from a few weeks ago. Miles Morales had beaten a monster who attacked a famous CEO, a boy-ninja, and a girl with a sword. Then that bruja roja brought out that device that made all of them flicker in and out of this reality. And then that whole scene with the blurred, red figure that moved jarringly and like fuzz across the screen:

              “Mr. Morales! Now I really do believe we’ll get along charmingly! You’re a rule-breaker, I’m a rule-breaker. You’d break down entire universes just to save one person, and I’d do it…for the fun of it! I’m quite sure we’ll be seeing more of each other on this crazy adventure we’ve been put onto, hmm?”

              Miguel didn’t need two reality-wreckers running around. This demon would need to be considered dangerous, too.

              “You get away from him, radio demon!”

              That’s it. That’s what he was called. The radio demon. He was the one putting out all of those crazy broadcasts, telling stories so intricate that it almost seemed like an inside joke only to himself.

              “MUDA!”

              The blonde boy with the weird hair loops and strange black, outfit appeared on the screen.

              “The terms of the deal were you wouldn’t include anyone in my circle,” he said, monotone, almost too confident.

              “Yes, but Mr. Morales isn’t in your original circle, is he? Also, it’s good to see you again, too, Mr. Giovanna. How have you been? You look far better than when we first met. And honestly, you should be thanking me. After all, I’m the one who made that possible!”

              And Giovanna was his surname. Miguel had been looking for a record of anyone born with that name, but he couldn’t find anyone.

              “I’m weaker because of you!”

              “But I didn’t take your soul. Just a little power, that’s all. You’re fine without it. I’m the one who needs it, really.”

              “Why?”

              He seemed genuinely frustrated, perhaps even a bit uneased by the prospect of this radio demon having any of his power. And what power was that? Miguel supposed he’d find out, more than likely the hard way.

              “Ah-ah! Our deal DOES state that we’re not to discuss that particular matter. Though…you were half-dead on the pavement when we made the deal. I’m surprised you remember any of it.”

              “Leave him alone. That’s your only warning.”

              “While I can’t say I appreciate the attitude, I do have to appreciate that someone like ourselves seems to have made a budding friendship with someone.”

              Mr. Giovanna was allies with Morales. Noted. Could be useful in the future.

              “I’m not like you.”

              “Really? If you say so.”

“Well, I simply must be going. I’ve got other, more pressing, matters to attend to. Best of luck to you all.”

              The radio demon turned on his heel. “You’ll need it.”

              “Giorno,” Miles mumbled. He looked half-dead. Miguel squished any sort of pity he had to the bottom of his chest.

              “I’m sorry. Luz told me you were out for a walk. Then I sensed he was around somewhere. I guess it’s part of the deal. I…couldn’t tell anyone about the constraints. There’s no escape from it, no backdoor. I think I’m stuck where I am for now. I need Golden Experience’s full abilities back. If I can’t get them back…everyone could be in danger. I’m such a fool for taking that deal. Why did I do this?”

              “I’m going to help you,” Miles said. “I’ll help you get out of that deal. I promise.”

              “Miles…thank you.”

              “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Get away from him!”

              The entrance of Pav was where the tape was cut short. After that point, it became nothing more than static. Miguel had examined this only piece of evidence that Miles was here twenty times over. It told him nothing of where he actually was. He’d found and interviewed the CEO, Kaiba. However, he kicked him out of his office. And the scary demon-woman bodyguard he hired was beyond his own powers and abilities. He wouldn’t budge on any information, not even when he was informed of the consequences of anomalies. He acted like the very fabrics of time and space should bend to his will.

              Why is it that life’s most important responsibilities and power was so often left in the hands of children?

              Then Jess strolled in with Lusamine. Miguel looked at them expectantly. “What have you got for me?”

              “News,” Jess said. “Big news.”

              …

              In another forged space in the dark recesses of an unknown laboratory, Kaolinite sat in a meeting with a man like a lion’s mane for hair. He spoke with a French accent, although, he swore he was from somewhere entirely different. Kalow? She wasn’t listening too intently.

              “So,” Professor Tomoe intoned. “It works like a maze with no exit?”

              Lion man’s eyes sparkled. “Oui. All you need is a little bit of bait.”

              “A little bait, hmm?” Professor Tomoe asked. He turned to Kaolinite. “Kaolinite, I want you to take today to observe our hindrances: look at the friendships they’ve formed, who or what they care about. I believe Mr. Lysandre’s technology will prove to be innovative and provide us with a harvest of pure hearts. Work with him today. You’ll be on the field together.”

              Lysandre did a small bow and held his hand over his heart. “We will gather as many beautiful souls as possible.”

              “In the meantime,” the professor said. “See if you can collect the few we’ve already targeted.”

              “Of course, professor,” Kaolinite assured him.

              The two began to walk out of the lab, a few eggs in hand. Kaolinite turned to her compatriot. “What makes your group want to help us?”

              “Each of us has our own motives,” Lysandre explained. “I merely seek beauty in this ugly world. I had a plan to remake the world entirely, more than likely before you.”

              “Rather assuming,” Kaolinite said with a sneer. “We’ve been here for almost twenty years, biding our time.”

              “I meant no insult,” Lysandre said. He hesitated, seeming to reminisce. He sighed and clutched his fists. “Merely to demonstrate that I put a lot of thought and effort into my inventions…and connections. I know, perhaps if we can find them, some of the most beautiful souls, inside and out.”

              Kaolinite nodded. “If we can find them.”

              She paused. She knew the look in his eyes. Dejection. Rejection, even.

              “Is revenge a possible motive, as well?” she asked.

              “…Possibly.”

              He walked ahead of her, not stopping. She may have more in common with these mysterious allies than she originally thought.

              …

              “The owl is going to kill me, Luz,” Hunter murmured to his sister.

              They didn’t look alike, but maybe one of them was adopted? Zuko wasn’t sure. They acted like Katara and Sokka, so at least they had a normal sibling relationship. One of them wasn’t constantly trying to kill or hurt the other.

              Right now, the study group was finishing up. Only Hunter seemed to be struggling. It wasn’t so much that he was getting anything wrong, according to Luz, but the “app” was finnicky. Meanwhile, Josuke had put on one of Rei’s records. She had a lot of Michael Jackson vinyl (this is cannon. The writers made her a MJ fan). The dancing associated with the music was weird. Too flamboyant. And then he put on something called “Purple Rain.” Josuke said this was his favorite (Araki listened to a lot of PF and Prince while writing Diamond is Unbreakable. Also…I just really like Prince). The song sounded nice, but why was the rain purple? Why did he want to see someone bathe in it? Then Anne started playing something in another language entirely. K-pop. It was different from the other music.

              They still faced the looming threat of the daimon that could pop up any minute. However, they weren’t just going to give them a head’s up or five minutes’ notice. Not only that, but Aang, Mai, Toph, and his uncle were all unaccounted for. It stressed him out not knowing if they were okay. Luckily one person was accounted for: much to Kaiba’s chagrin. After all, she volunteered to be one of his new security guards alongside the girl who’d shown up with her.

              “Marcy,” Ty Lee, former friend to his sister, current Kyoshi warrior gushed. “I absolutely adore the mini crossbow you made. I still can’t believe you made something like that!”

              Kaiba’s eyebrow twitched. Apparently, Ty Lee had been talking ever since they’d gotten to the shrine.

              “Well, I made this new one out of parts I found discarded outside of Kaiba Corp. Oh! Mr. Kaiba, is that a safety violation? I mean, sometimes materials are thrown out for a reason. But General Yunan taught me how to make a crossbow out of practically anything. I can teach you, Ty Lee, if you want!”

              And neither had Marcy. She and Anne knew each other. Zuko was sure Kaiba had tried to get in a word edgewise about safety protocols, but he was cut off.

              “Hey Marcy, I think Kaiba’s about to have an aneurysm, so maybe the questions can hold off for a bit,” Anne suggested.

              “Huh?” Marcy intoned. She glanced at Kaiba, who did appear on his last nerve. Zuko wondered if he ever looked like that while searching for the Avatar. “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t even realize I was talking so much.”

              “I, too, often get carried away by the wonderful stories I share with my friends,” Starfire spoke up, sympathetically.

              “We can all get a little carried away with things…like Pokémon battles…which I would love to do right now, Arven!” Nemona said, her eyes gleaming.

              Arven crossed his arms. “No.”

              “Lillie?”

              “I don’t want to use Solgaleo unless I absolutely have to.”

              “Ugh. You two are no fun!”

              Nemona glanced hesitantly to Gladion who merely scowled and shook his head in response.

              “Is it going to take meeting one of the champions to have a good battle around here?” Nemona mumbled.

              “You could always try relaxing a little,” Anne suggested.

              Nemona grinned. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

              Zuko shook his head and turned his attention to another conversation that Josuke had started with Sokka.

              “I’m telling you: he stabbed his own hand because he lost to me,” Josuke said. “Top that. Bet you don’t know a sorer loser than that! Oh! And to top it off, he also let his house burn down by just being so obsessed that I was cheating.”

              “But you were cheating,” Sokka said.

              Josuke shrugged. “He had it coming. And besides, it turned out alright in the end—he’s got his fingers back. He doesn’t threaten to have me arrested every time I’m anywhere near him.”

              “And he helped you catch that bombastic stand user” Kakyoin noted with a slight smirk. “Maybe bragging about his house burning down is a little, I don’t know, vindictive?”

              “Maybe, but he’s a jerk, so…” Josuke said, crossing his arms. “Kira Yoshikage. That guy was hell to deal with. From what we’ve been told, it took a lot of repeating to actually beat him, too.”

              “You know,” Sokka said. “We had to defeat a guy who used his mind to blow things up. He was pretty weird.”

              Sokka directed his attention toward Zuko. “If someone hadn’t hired him to kill us, we would’ve never known some firebenders could do that.”

              Zuko averted his gaze at the group. “I don’t take pride in who I was back then.”

              “It’s all water under the bridge,” Sokka said flippantly. “Besides, I took him out; you know, just older sibling-protectiveness.”

              “I feel so safe,” Katara said sarcastically.

              “Did Jotaro tell you how we met?” Kakyoin asked Josuke, but it was as if he was addressing the group.

              Josuke shook his head. “Nah. He never really talked about his days as a crusader. Mr. Joestar did, kind of. Though, it was nonsensical, most of the time.”

              Kakyoin paused and shrugged. “It makes sense, given who we had to fight.”

              “You mean Dio, right?” Josuke asked. “Mr. Joestar did manage to tell us a lot about him. Apparently, he stole my great Grandfather’s body.”

              “Okay, that’s physically impossible. Unless he was a vampire,” Sokka joked.

              “Oh, but he was,” Kakyoin said. “Right on the money, Sokka.”

              “No way. I debunked vampires in my village a looong time ago,” Sokka said. “People thought since there was blood on the snow near the caves, someone had been dragged off by vampires. Turns it was just old man Koda who refused to admit he needed help hunting; he’d cut himself trying to haul over one pounds worth of walwhale blubber back to us.”

 “Different universes,” Miles spoke up. “Different rules.”

“Right.”

“As I was saying,” Kakyoin continued. “I was controlled by Dio via a flesh bud. When I first met your…nephew, I did try to kill him. We had a fight, he won, and he could’ve left me to die. But he saved my life. And for the first time, I finally found something worth fighting for.”

He turned to Zuko. “So, it’s not how the journey starts but how it ends.”

“And how did it end for you?” Josuke asked. “Mr. Joestar and Jotaro don’t really talk about their friends that much. Did you guys beat Dio together?”

Kakyoin fell silent.

“Maybe that’s more of a personal question,” Katara suggested, noticing the tension.

“Oh. Sorry.”

It was quiet for a moment before Zuko decided to break the silence. “I wasn’t controlled by a vampire. However, the person who controlled me was beaten by a twelve-year-old.”

“That must be quite the story,” Kakyoin said.

“I was set on a path to find the Avatar by my father,” Zuko explained. “I was the banished Prince. The avatar had been missing for one hundred years, but as it turned out, he had been frozen for those one hundred years. I researched, studied, sailed, and fought for years. My uncle tried to guide me on the right path, but I didn’t understand him until I got everything I wanted. I betrayed people I shouldn’t have, especially Katara and my uncle. But when I realized who I’d become—what the fire nation was doing to the world—I joined the Avatar and taught him how to firebend.”

“And we were happy to have you, buddy,” Sokka said, raising his cup of tea.

“I love the found family trope,” Luz and Marcy said, almost in-tune with one another.

              “My uncle tried to kill all of us at one point,” Hunter said. When they stared at him, Luz gestured for him to go on. “I…uh…never had a dad. I was the Golden Guard for Emperor Belos—my uncle. He was a witch hunter, and he wanted to destroy all the witches. I didn’t know that, but I helped him, a lot. It was Luz who helped me see what Belos really wanted to do. We got stuck in his mind together.”

              “And in the human world,” Luz said with a laugh.

              “There, too. Yeah.”

              It was quiet for a minute. Now seemed like the time his uncle would say something wise, something that could guide them, something that would at least ease the tension.

              “I don’t believe it,” Anne spoke solemnly. She stood up and pointed at Luz. “YOU GOT TO STAY IN YOUR MAGIC WORLD? That’s so unfair! I had to say goodbye to all my friends in Amphibia!”

              Luz chuckled nervously. “Roll of the dice? Those things can be pretty darn unlucky.”

              “She’s got a point,” Marcy agreed.

              “Also, don’t act like you’re not the only person who turned to a life of good, Zuko,” Ty Lee joined in. “I joined the Kyoshi warriors.”

              “Yeah?” Sokka asked. “Well, I did that first!”

              “Oh, I know,” Ty Lee said with a slight smirk. “The girls told me all about it.”

              As Sokka began to pout, Ty Lee laughed and started helping clean up from the dinner Makoto, Miles, Hunter, Katara, Pavitr, and Arven had helped make. Tonight was a cause for celebration: the girls had a huge exam that they all passed, even Usagi. She’d spent the whole night suggesting things she’d like for her upcoming birthday. His and Katara’s birthdays were the very same day as hers. Sokka had deduced that by studying their calendars. He hadn’t celebrated his birthday in a very long time, nor was celebrating on his radar of things to do, but he knew Makoto, Ami, Rei, and Minako were going to throw Usagi a surprise party at the shrine.

              “There’s no shame in learning from a girl,” Minako said ardently. “We’re waaay more capable than any boy we know.”

              “Is that so?” Josuke asked with a slight grin. “Well, as a guy, I guess I shouldn’t point out that Zuko was the last one to destroy the two daimons from the other day. And Sokka and I took care of the one at the car garage.”

              Before Zuko could even speak up for her, Katara countered, “And Usagi, Connie, and I took out five in the park.”

              “Katara was epic,” Connie agreed. “Bad luck on that one water-based one. RIP. And then she used that water to destroy one of the other ones.”

              “You guys should’ve seen Miles and Giorno,” Pav said. “We took out like six of them the other day.”

              “Is this what the conversation has come to?” Lillie asked. “Bragging about killing things?”

              “When you put it that way…”

              “There goes the vibe, little sister.”

              “W-well, I didn’t mean to—.”

              “It’s fine,” Usagi said. “Besides, it is kinda morbid if you think about it.”

              She stood up and smiled at them. It seemed to touch all corners of the room. “As weird as it is, I’m glad we all met! It’s been fun getting to know all of you, ya know? Of course, I hope everyone can get home and be happy, but for now, I’m grateful that you’re all here.”

              “Thanks, Usagi,” Katara said with a genuine smile. “It’s been nice getting to know all of you, too.”

              “Now,” Josuke said with a grin. “Who wants to challenge me at the racing game?”

              “Me!” Minako and Luz chimed in together.

              “No way! Me first,” Usagi said.

              “Clearly, Josuke wants to race against me! Right, Josuke?” Minako asked, batting her eyes.

              Josuke, seemingly oblivious, shrugged. “Well, it’s multiplayer, right, Luz?”

              Luz nodded. “And I’m gonna kick your butt!”

              “I doubt it, I’ve got it this time,” Sokka said. Right. He liked those weird screen games.

              “Awesome!” Josuke said smiling at Sokka.  

              “I suck at MarioKart,” Miles admitted. He turned to Giorno and Pav, “Wanna be on my team? Might have better luck together.”

              “Sure.”

              “Oh, you know I’ll help you out, bro!”

              “I’ll play,” Kakyoin said. “And I doubt I’ll lose to anyone.”

              “Challenge accepted,” Marcy said. “C’mon Anne, Ty Lee! We’ll beat them easy!”

              “Kaiba, you should try your hand at it,” Connie said. “I bet you’d be good at it!”

              “I don’t have time for—,”

              “Just one round? Please! I’ve been itching to do something that’ll take my mind off things for a while.”

              “…Fine. One round, Maheswaran. Then we need to go.”

              “You know I’m in,” Nemona said. She grabbed Arven by the forearm. “Let’s go!”

              “How’d I get dragged into this?”

              “I suppose I could teach everyone here a lesson in humility,” Gladion said with a smirk.

              “I’m actually good at these games. They’re pretty similar to simulations run by the horde,” Adora said. “I can probably win.”

              “Star, you wanna try and beat them?” Robin asked.

              “In the metaphorical spirit of friendship, we will crush them!” Starfire beamed.

              With that, most everyone went into the room with the TV’s everyone had pooled together to buy.

              “I’m going to go make sure they don’t break the TVs,” Ami said gently.

              “I’ll join you,” Makoto said.

              The two walked off, leaving only Rei and Zuko behind. The fire priestess sighed and shook her head. “So much for clean up.”

              “Here, I’ll help you with that,” Zuko insisted. He started picking up plates and shuffled off to the kitchen with Rei. She furrowed her eyebrows. The more he thought about it, it was strange how she hadn’t spoken a lot tonight. She hadn’t even teased Usagi all that much.

              “Are you alright, Rei?” Zuko asked.

              She pursed her lips and placed the dishes into the sink. “I’m not sure. The more I read the flames, the more uncertain the future becomes.”

              “You can read the future through fire?” Zuko asked.

              Rei nodded. “It’s something I’ve trained myself to do. It’s more to do with the spiritual energy I’m able to channel rather than my fire. Though, fire is part of it. Perhaps you can do it, too.”

              “Seeing the future…”

              It could be useful. But the closest he’d gotten to spirituality was at the Sun Warrior Ruins with the last two dragons who taught himself and Aang the true purpose behind firebending. Reading the future through fire might be possible, but he wasn’t sure if he could be the one to do it.

              “I could use the help,” Rei said. Her eyes seemed tired. “Maybe you can see something I can’t.”

              He hesitated and then gave her a nod. “I’ll do it.”

              …

              Lucifer Morningstar was finally allowed to see the good in humanity. Sure! This new world was an absolute clusterfuck, but it sure as hell beat the hell out of, well, hell!

              Sure—sure—there were monsters here. But there were also tons of heroes. Incidentally, he’d ‘saved’ two of his newest traveling companions who had decided to stick with him. There was, the one he knew, Prince Stolas of the Ars Goetia—in human form. Smart. He was, too. It just wasn’t that different from his usual appearance. And then the other was a very kind, chivalrous, and tall man by the name of Jonathan Joestar. They were attacked by a group of those monsters—they burned like paper in his grasp.

              Stolas had been a bit surprised to see him, but Lucifer had quickly ushered him to the side and told him to go along with his story. He didn’t want to be recognized. If anyone were to find out who he was, it was back to enjoying the company of only sinners. Just for once, he wanted to make friends with someone with purely good intentions. No, not the hypocritical ‘good’ espoused in heaven, but actual good. And Jonathan struck him as a good person. Along with a few others he’d managed to meet.

              “Alright fellows,” Jonathan spoke up. “Where to take our search next?”

              Jonathan, after seeing Stolas so panicked, had offered to help him find his daughter (if she had ended up here like himself and Charlie). But they weren’t sure she was even here. All of this was Stolas, justifiably, being paranoid.

              “Perhaps Via could have ended up at a mall. There are endless places for shopping here,” Stolas argued.

              “I remember when Charlie was her age, we couldn’t drag her out of the Hot Tropic,” Lucifer joked. “Maybe there’s one here?”

              “It would just make things so much easier if I knew whether she was even here or not. For all we know, we could be looking for nothing,” Stolas said with a sigh.

              “Would you really be content with not-knowing?” Jonathan asked.

              Stolas shook his head. “No. You’re right. I need to make sure.”

              “You know,” Jonathan spoke up. “I’ve been hearing about this popular tea spot. A lot of young people have been gathering there as of late. Perhaps she’s there!”

              Stolas looked from Jonathan to Lucifer. It was plausible if there were other teenagers there. Via, or at least the last time he’d seen her, seemed a little introverted. Still, if the tea were good…

              “It’s worth a shot,” Lucifer said.

              “Off we go then.”

              Stolas lingered behind, still scanning the area, while Jonathan went ahead of them. “I want to thank you again for helping me your highness.”

              Lucifer shushed him. “It’s fine! Just don’t say that too loud, alright? I don’t want to call attention to myself here. I’d like to observe the good in humanity before we’re jerked back to hell.”

              “That’s…fair enough. Do not worry, you have my unsacred but binding word that I will draw no more attention to yourself.”

              “Thank you.”

              The three continued to the tea shop…The Jasmine Dragon. That was a pretty clever name for a tea shop. Though, he’d prefer more of a duck theme, himself. They were seated by a young girl with pigtails. She took their order and left them to talk and people watch. He glanced around, observing the café. It certainly cultivated a…unique atmosphere. He noticed a tiefling, a wizard, and someone who’d been cursed by a devil sitting at one table. And then at another table were a man in a strangely fashionable, white suit, bobbed black hair, a man in darker purple clothes and hair, a man whose hair was like black, spiky hedgehog quills dressed in a worn, blue suit, a girl with long, black hair and purple and pink robes/dress, and another man who had silver hair who wore a deep red suit and cravat. The first table was loud and boisterous, the second, not so much. They seemed wrapped up and secretive over whatever they were talking about.

              The tiefling’s head perked up; she glared at him, then Stolas. She began whispering to her colleagues. What was that abou—shit, she was coming over.

              “Mind telling me what in Avernus you two are doing here?” She growled.

              The other two joined her. This was not looking good. Lucifer held up his hands defensively. Jonathan appeared mystified.

              “A demon? Are you one of those monsters who’ve been attacking people?” Jonathan countered, rising to his feet.

              “No. I’ve sliced and diced quite a few of them, myself, actually,” the woman said. “However, you’re one to talk of monsters when you’ve got two of them traveling with you.”

              Jonathan seemed puzzled for a moment before he looked to Lucifer and Stolas. “Do you mean John and Stolas? One is a hotelier, and the other is just a father looking for his daughter—hardly anything monstrous there.”

              “Really?”

              A few pairs of eyes had drifted their way now. Another man with wiry, brown hair and weird suit raised an eyebrow. Oh, who was he to judge? Who were any of them?

              “Look, we’re not looking for trouble here,” Stolas objected. “What Jonathan said is true: we’re just looking for my Via. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

              The woman stared at them for a few moments before looking at Lucifer. “I recognize you. You were in that commercial. You’re part of that hotel business that one demoness has going.”

              “Don’t you dare say anything about my daughter!” Lucifer said, now standing.

              “Your highness!” Stolas murmured, tugging at his sleeve.

              The gesture was lost on Lucifer until he looked at his own, burning hands and sleeves. “Oh. Ohhhhh.”

              “By Job, she was right!”

              “Hey, Job wasn’t all that innocent. I should know,” Lucifer said. He straightened his bowtie. “Yes. I suppose, you could say, I have some ties to hell.”

              “And just how strong are those ties?” Jonathan asked, glaring at him.

              “I…may be forced to…run it?”

              “Y-You-You’re the devil, himself!”

              “Well, to be fair, there are a lot of devils out there.”

              “And how do I know you’re not in league with him?”

              “I kill devils, thank you very much!”

              Lucifer sighed. Of course, this short-lived comradery was already over. Ugh.

              “You must be the one who created the stone mask,” Jonathan said accusingly.

              “Stone what?” Lucifer asked. “Look, I don’t even get to catch glimpses at the mortal world. Dad made sure of that. If something evil creeps into this world, it’s probably due to some other dealmaker or other hell-spawn. I don’t even control them! All I care about is making sure my daughter’s vision comes true. And her wish? Her wish is to rehabilitate sinners so they can get into heaven. That’s it. I’m not out here with a pitchfork and paper ready for you to sign your soul away. And I still have my golden fiddle, I’ll have you know!”

              “How can we trust that? You’ve been lying this whole time. And you’re still the devil!”

              Mortals. He only wanted to meet one good person. Just one. It was already ruined by his own carelessness and other peoples’ meddling.

              “Now hold on a minute,” an older voice spoke up. “Why not hear him out?”

              An older man walked from the counter where he’d been observing the interaction. Lucifer hadn’t thought much of him, as he’d been preparing their tea. Was that classist? Charlie had said something about classism once. Was he classist? Nonetheless, the old man smiled and gestured for them all to sit back down. Despite having more power, there was something about this man that commanded attention. Far be it from him to throw someone’s open-mindedness back in their face.

              “You don’t understand,” Jonathan said. “This man is the epitome of evil!”

              The old man looked Lucifer up and down. “Every man has his wrongs. I cannot tell you whether to trust someone in this world we have found ourselves in, but the best way to tell if a man is a good person is to let his actions speak for him. As of now, has he done anything wrong?”

              “Well, no, but I don’t think you understand—,”

              The old man brushed him off. “Then how can you accurately judge his character?”

              Lucifer surveyed the room. Everyone still seemed very much guarded and ready to jump. It’s not like he couldn’t take down everyone in this room and then some, but he didn’t want to. All he’d wanted was to observe the good in people. Their biases would only be proven true if he started to fight them. Plus, this man was nice to at least try and give him a chance.

              He opened his wallet and put money on the table to cover the bill. “Eh. Don’t worry about it. I get it. Preconceived notions and all. C’mon Stolas, we’ll go look for Via by ourselves.”

              With that, the shorter king and high-rank demon walked out of the tea shop.

              …

              “Focus on the flames,” Rei instructed.

              This was nothing like the beauty of dragon’s fire. It was a simple hearth of fire. Rei concentrated on the flames; her eyes unwavering and her scowl deepening by the minute. He couldn’t see anything in the flames.

              It was a new day at the Hikawa shrine. Bright and early. There would be visitors soon. But before that happened, Rei had offered to teach him how to read the flames.

              “There’s nothing there,” Zuko insisted.

              “That’s because you’re focused on there being nothing there. If you are determined to see nothing, that’s all you’ll ever see.”

              “So how do I see something?” Zuko asked, mirroring her frown.

              “You focus on what’s important to you and try to see where they’re going. That’s what I do.”

              Focus on what was important? It could work. He thought of his people how lost they might be, how with Azula roaming free, they could be led back to tyranny and corruption. Azula might even be here trying to cause mayhem. If she were here, no doubt she’d cause trouble for them. Any friend of his was an enemy of hers. No one here would be safe. The monsters were still a massive mystery. What did they want? Why were they after hearts? Nothing in this new world made much sense!

              Even so…he had the drive to protect those he cared for. A burning desire.

              Something appeared in the flames. A maze? Was he in the maze? It was in his perspective, and he was searching for something or someone. Every turn a dead end or a new turn. Two people stood by him, but they were so blurry, he couldn’t make them out.

              It was hard to breathe. The pressure of the atmosphere around him was getting too heavy. He ran through to the next corner and spotted someone—someone he recognized but could not see being chased by one of those monsters. He tried to blast it with fire, but it jumped up into the air and landed right in front of him, brandishing one of those black stars on its shoulder. He stumbled backwards into a mirror paneling, crashing through.

              Now it was all complete darkness. A woman’s laughter echoed high above him. Three lights appeared in the sky and a golden-gloved hand shot out at him—it was larger than the moon itself. It should’ve been physically impossible. He tried to command fire to his palms, but he got nothing for his effort. Just as he was about to be snatched up, another hand pulled on his shirt collar—!

              “You almost fell into the flames, idiot!” Rei hissed. She stared at Zuko for a second. “S-sorry. Are you alright?”

              Zuko paused, not really sure how to answer her. Should he be honest about what he saw? What did he see? How in the world was he supposed to explain it?

              “Peeking into the future by reading the flames, hmm?”

              A man stood in the doorway of the shrine. He had a darker complexion and hair in a style Zuko had never seen before. He wore a red robe and a simple beige shirt and pants. He also had a lot of jewelry and a bandana around his forehead.

              “Who are you?” Rei asked.

              “Don’t worry. I’m a friend. I believe we have a mutual connection. Kakyoin Noriaki. He told me that he told all of you about Dio. And he said there were two people who could manipulate fire here, too. I suppose that is you two?”

              “Why are you asking?” Zuko asked.

              “I wanted to visit for a while. Kakyoin said you might need some help with monsters, and I’ve seen tragic timelines and events that could possibly happen if we don’t correct them now. I want to help.”

              “What’s your name?” Rei asked.

              “Avdol,” the man said with a slight bow. “Muhammad Avdol.”

[loverofdoctorwho]

Cut A Long Story Short

This story was written in 2022 from my year 12 Applied English classes that went towards my QCE.

It’s a hot night in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. The gum leaves are cracklen’ under yer feet and scrub is denser than thick fog. I live in an old Queenslander, with the only livin’ things for miles are kangaroos and the teens that randomly appear running through the unfenced areas. Dr. Musk, (my legal guardian due to me Mum surrendering me to him), doesn’t let me go play with ‘em. He says I’m not ‘trustworthy’ all because me brain is a bit broke and I act oddly in public. I’m always trying to persuade him with statistics. “1 in 5 Australians suffer from a mental disorder, I ant’ no weirdo!” But he gives me the look with his sly fox eyes in his slimming white coat and says in his upper-dee voice; “Macca, you’re merely a socially abandoned, uneducated runt with a holey singlet, scruffy hair, and a broken mind. Somebody not to be interacted with.”

Anyway, I’m sittn’ in me room reading K-Zone magazines that Richie, (me best friend that is constantly dressed in a dirty football jersey and ripped denim jeans), smuggled in. “YEP! You only get to be 15 once and no point spending it around old prickle pants!”, Richie chirps at me as he tunes in to the local radio station for an episode of ‘The British Spy’. Maybe I can convince Doctor Musk this time. But the last time I did that I spent a week in the basement. Well here goes nothing. I creep up to Dr. Musk with Richie beside me, and lookn’ as saintly as possible I ask:

“Doc, you know how you saw me talking to those teens today? “Well I was thinkin', since they didn’t spook when I talked to them, well do you think I could see more of them?”. Noting the silence as he turned in my direction. “Look, I’ve kept Richie as a best mate since I was little and he hasn’t combusted so they won’t either,” I quickly add but I just shot me-self in the foot again.

“RICHIE ISN’T REAL! HE’S A FIGMENT OF YOUR IMAGINATION THAT WAS THOUGHT UP BY YOUR POTATO SIZED BRAIN!”, Doctor Musk simply booms back at us. Richie is deeply insulted and calls him an “inconsiderate man child!.” We both bottle our rage and storm back to my room where we make our plans for the great beyond.

The next morning Richie wakes me early and we creep out under the house. I spot one of the teenage girls on the other side of the fence. Richie runs up and calls me over once it was clear. It is a bit awkward as I try to make eye contact but Richie asks in his smoothest cool guy persona; “Got a light?”, like on ‘The British Spy,’ given me an in to ask a name. It's Ruby. I introduced Richie and me-self, but she looks confused when I state his name. “Am I the first person you’ve spoken to?”, Ruby questions. I get butterflies in me stomach and turn bright red before blurting out “YES!”. I start to ask about the other kids and Ruby asks me what’s it like to live in a prison. I can’t stop me-self lookn’ at her crop top and flared mini skirt. Her beauty puts me in a trance-like state. Before I knew what hit me, there was a loud screech and I’m gettn’ dragged backwards. “GET OFF ME YOU DOG!,” I shout while Richie tries to pry the death grip off me scruff.

“I HAVE TOLD YOU TO NEVER INTERACT WITH OTHERS YOU MENTALLY HANDICAPPED PRICK, BUT YOU NEVER LISTEN!” Doctor Musk screamed as I’m kick’in and squirm’in for dear life. Richie is pushing things over to divert the Doctor’s path to me bedroom and not the basement door. It doesn’t work and I’m being dragged down a wooden staircase then hoist up onto a bed. I get one arm free to give a strong uppercut that knocks the Doc backwards. He stumbles forwards and stabs me in the arm with a liquid that’s maken’ me sleepy. Then, BOOM, and the Doc falls limp to the ground.

Richie scoops me up in his arms, runs out of the house, and leaves me at the front gate where a worried Ruby is crouching. “Stay here,” he says as he runs into the garage, comes runn’ out with a petrel can and matchbox, goes back into the house, pours its contents from the basement to the front door, and throws in the lit match. Then the house goes up in an explosion of flames just as Richie is back at my side. I’m back in arms and we all leaven’ for town.

[mally0]

Vanity, Kansas.

“About two hours past Wichita. You remember Big Bertha?”

“‘Course I remember that rusty old bitch. Should we stop by that atomic graveyard this time?”

“We’ll pass it about halfway. We’re gonna be going down closer to Tulsa.”

I crack a skeptical grin, “ You would know.”

“I know it like the back of my hand. If you came to visit me more often maybe you’d know it better, too.”

“I’m coming to visit you right now, aren’t I?”

“Ha! The biggest visit of them all,” he says, grinning like an idiot.

He tells me it’s out west, and a bit south after Big Bertha. So close to the long forty-four that I’m almost offended. Piss and vinegar aside, I’ve driven this track many times. We have, together. Me and Tom. We’re both big explorers, “woodspeople” is what we like to call ourselves.

Not as many woods along forty-four, but there’s plenty to stop and see. The hills on their own are enormous, rolling tundras of wheat. Statistically speaking, even they’re not enough to make Kansas less flat than a pancake. Sayings like that always make me laugh to myself. If you’ve heard people talk about Kansas, I can assure that you’ve been lied to.

Kansas is to me what Missouri is to Tom, the greener grass. After years of dating and failing, I ended up meeting Tom on Tinder. At first, my mom would tease me. She called him a “mail-order husband,” until she saw him. Then, she called him a hunk.

It’s funny, when we first matched one of our biggest bonds was how much we hated our hometowns. We still do, and here me and Tom are moving to his. When he told me his great aunt So-and-so left him a house in her will, of course we had to jump at a windfall like that.

Vanity is closer to the border of Kansas and Oklahoma. This isn’t the first move for me, but it’s the first out of state. I’ve lived in a handful of cities around Missouri, but I’ve been stuck in my hometown for the last five years or so. Tom’s a good thing for me, like that. It’s about time I moved out of my parents house. I’ll be twenty nine this year.

“Does it make you scared, living so far away from your folks?”

I roll my eyes and say “Does it make you scared?”

“What, you moving in with me?”

I grimace at him, “No, us living so close to your folks.”

We make a good comedy duo, when it’s just us. When we’re together that's how it usually is, just us. We’ve introduced each other to our family and friends. It’s weird to plan a date for so long, then lock onto a bigger group than we’re interested in.  We’re a couple of socially awkward deer running around in the woods, and we just happened to luck into each other.

A semi rushes past, sending an immediate gale hammering down on top of Tom’s beetle. The car’s a sturdy old boy though. He’s been through it, his shell’s flaking, but he’s still the toughest beetle out there. I watch in the rear view as the semi wobbles into the distance, little flecks of our car’s clear coat in hot pursuit.

“What’s the weather like there?”

“Just like this. The wind’s always been hell, but don’t worry.”

He goes quiet for a moment.

“You can hang on to me.”

“OK! Moving on,” I bluster out, “Oklahoma, eh? It’s like you’ve got two states at once down there!”

Like I said, I explore a lot. I know every spring, cliff, and lonesome hill in Missouri. I know a good few in Kansas, and I’ve intermittently been here and there for a con or a show. I wish Tom would be more excited to get out there and explore OK, too. The way he talks about it, it may as well be a foreign country.

“You've never even been to a concert in Tulsa?”

“No, it sounds like it costs an arm and a leg just to make a left turn with all the tolls,” he says.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Why haven’t you been more often, then?”

“Well, it’s not that good,” I say.

“What’s so good that it’s worth a five hour drive?”

And, of course, I know what he can’t help but say.

“Other than you.”

I make a fake retching noise, and we have a laugh. I hate that romantic garbage.

“You know I gotta tell ya, since you won’t tell yourself.”

“Pull over for real, I’m gonna puke.”

I wanted to get out and stretch, that’s all. I start hiking up one of the hills. In the winter they would be excellent for sledding, if only it weren't for the highway. In the late summer they were like Elysium on a globe.

It takes a serious, concerted effort from each leg to heave myself up the amber waves. The wind is famous here. That much of the stereotype is true. I stoop at the peak of the hill and see the silhouette of a squall line over the hills, dipping across the highway. My hair whips at my face. A convoy of semi’s teeter past as the dry, wheezy air spins and devils skyward.

The wind turbines loped on at the same pace they always did, despite the gales. It’s as if the world were not complete until those looming needles were pincushioned into the dusty ground. I tell Tom things like that, and he always brushes it off. He’s a far bigger fan of the stinking creeks and the oppressive, moist air of my home.

“This place really is still the dust bowl. You stick around long enough, and you’ll see it.”

“I was here all last summer, babe. It was dusty, humidity is what kills me. The day after it rains in Missouri’s summer is the hottest of the year. You should know, you were there.”

“Well at least we’ll always have to visit your folks. I was laughing it up in that summer rain.”

The squall on the horizon prickled with violet thorns, a hot rush of rainscent loped across our path on the long fourty-four. The bug shook against the buffet, but he held firm as always. Tom sniffed.

“My mom always said big storm cells like that made people show their true colors. Even in summer, people raid the stores. The roads flood real bad here, everything’s so flat. ”

"Yeah, she’s where all that cheesy crap in your brain comes from.”

“Hey now, my mom’s a smart lady.”

“Maybe to you. It’s always storming in Missouri. You know how many funnel clouds I’ve seen try and give my house a kiss?”

“You’ve told me quite a few.”

I always wanted to plant an orchard on my grandma’s land. It’s not a lot of land, and it’s not a very profitable place for an orchard, but there’s a dream in my mind of walking through the flowering trees in a light summer rain just after spring. That’s the kind of rain Tom was remembering. Most sunshowers in Missouri are dreadful because of that heat you know is coming. Countless garden projects dashed against the stones because of it.

I know, realistically, that the orchard would burn up much the same. I bet it wouldn’t even get to its first harvest, and it would be nothing but a muddy field full of little black sprigs. As a child, I had a friend who lived in the city limits. His parents got it into their heads that they were farmers, not ten minutes away from Aldi’s.

“You know, they say that when you tend an orchard it’s a virtue. It’s because only future generations will know the sweetness of that fruit.”

“Babe. Enough.”

He  says, “Yeah, yeah. It sounds maternal though. I think that’s very uncharacteristic and very sweet to hear from you.”

“I don’t want kids. I want those pears.”

We laugh, but we don’t laugh the same.

“Are they that good? You never buy pears for groceries,” he says.

“Most of them are just normal pears. They’re huge, knotty and fat. I’m not usually the ‘eat a straight up pear’ type of person. I just love to be around them. She grew strawberries, which I hated. She grew apples, which immediately soured and went crabby. She grew some impressive pears. There’s a small and special little tree in my Grandma’s garden, and it grew the best damn asian pears you’ve ever had.”

“So you’ve always been picky. What’s the difference?”

“Well the flavor, I guess. They’re more apple-like in their bite, and almost boozy in the taste. You remember that sake we had a while back? With the fancy little jar they brought out?”

“That stuff was really good.”

“It was only fifteen for a serving like that, too. We’ve gotta try and find some. We’ve also gotta get some asian pear jam, if they ever grow again.”

“Jam?”

“Yeah, like jelly.”

“I didn’t know they made pear jam.”

“Well don’t sound so disgusted. You’d eat a pear, right?”

“I don’t know, I’m not really—”

“Pear jam is awesome, alright? You’ll just have to believe me.”

“It seems like a lot of work just to eat a fruit you’re not that fond of.”

“I am fond of them!” I say, a little flippantly. “They’ve always been there. Pears are an inseparable part of summer and fall. I’d have to carry bucket after bucket back to the house and wrap them so they’d ripen. Then, a month or so later, they’d be ready to eat, or dehydrate, or jam.”

Tom’s quiet for a moment, and the car’s getting to be unbearably muggy. Kansas really can get hot, but that’s not Kansas’s fault.

“I’m a little surprised it’s that big of a deal to you. You never let me try any.”

“Don’t you remember? I said everything stopped growing in my grandma’s garden a while ago. If anything ever does though, I’ll be sure to make you try some.”

The broken A/C wheezes out an admirable little breeze. The sunflower road signs pass by, occasionally interrupted by a tractor trailer or a billboard with some hateful slogan. Those aren't Kansas’s fault, and they’re so derelict out in that bountiful wasteland that they seem more like ancient ruins than some warning of slurs to come. In fact, everyone I’ve met in Kansas has been just peachy. They’re far nicer here than back home, where frowning is the state sport.

After another hour of NPR, just as the sun hides behind the hills, the squall line officially crests across the horizon. The cell signal drops, and the cheap little touch screen radio gives us a shrugging emoji.

I love this part. Tom’s a lot of things, but he’s terrified of quiet. Makes a complete mouse out of him. He’ll usually whimper out a few jokes, and we’ll laugh. I’ll give him ten minutes of cold shoulder and he’ll insist upon some big topic that’s been eating him. That’s how it is, he can’t just say the important thing when he needs to. He’s gotta make an appointment, usually about this time.

This time he’s quiet.

I’m almost impressed, so I pretend to doze for a moment. I roll over in my seat, curling up. My head keeps bouncing against the headrest, so sleep’s out of the question. I wonder if it’ll be hard to sleep, living somewhere away from home again. I listen close, past the rush of the car and into the Kansas twilight. There’s no cicadas, no dogs barking. The A/C smells like the promise of beer or fresh bread, hot out the oven at that. Just for me. It’s nice. It’s quiet. There’s a hint of rain, a slight chill.

It’s a little unnerving. So I yawn and stretch til my hands hit the ceiling’s sagging upholstery.

“You’re quiet,” I say. “What’s the matter, nothing on your mind?”

“No. Why, do you have something you need to tell me?”

“No. You usually do and save it for here though. I was kind of looking forward to it.”

“You know me so well.”

I brace for another cheesy one liner that doesn’t come. Just that Kansas quiet.

“Well, I should hope so,” I manage.

“Why were you pretending to be asleep just now?”

I have a little laugh. He’s quiet. Tom’s car speeds on and on in a straight line, towards a purpling sky. I’m sweating quite a bit in that dry, airy car. The vents aren’t much comfort, failing their one job.

“I don’t know, I guess I was waiting on you to ask me something.”

“Something like that?”

“Uh, sure. I guess not. I was just passing time.”

“Right.”

The sea of wheat outside sighs. I crack the window for a minute and stare out, head just past the portal. The wind is still dancing out here, just like it was earlier, and the trip before. No escape from the heat either, since it’s coming from outside. Nothing’s wrong with Kansas.

“Close that, it’s hurting my ears.”

And it does hurt a little, so I close the window.

“You aren’t seeing anyone else right now, are you?”

“Jesus, Tom, no!” I shout. I didn’t mean to shout. I’m just offended at the question at this point. I mean, I’m moving in with him, and he springs something like that?

The radio sputters back on, thank god.

Tom turns it off. I glare at him. His eyes are on the road, a good driver. He’s trying to stare through me without looking at me.

“Look,” he says, “I only ask that because I love you. This is a big deal, and I just gotta be sure.”

“You asked me to move in with you. I want to. So, what, are you never going to be able to fully trust me?”

He goes quiet again. He doesn’t have to say no. It’s the same situation. He wants to, but he’s a big-ass, principled man. He doesn’t let go of the past. He makes enemies. Even me.

I’ve already decided to move in with him. I do not go back on my decision, I’m not insane. I see him white knuckling the wheel. He must be remembering, too.

He must remember how it was his decision to not date around. I was always the only one good enough for him. He remembers that just because he doesn’t usually ask questions that he won’t like the answers to, what he does not know will still hurt him. Rather, he insists that it does.

The fact that I have chosen him now is not enough, and it never will be. He expects the opposite to be enough for me. I see him there, beads of sweat squeezing out from his hairy hands. He’s shaking a bit.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ve grown lazy, or overly comfortable. I haven’t been seeing anybody but him for quite some time now. A long-distance relationship is a tall order to fill. Maybe that’s why he works himself up like this.

He’s not budging, so that settles it.

“Tom, I’m not backing down from this. The fact that you still feel this way, and bring it up now is a real dick move. I’m gonna stick around for six months or a year or two, if I want. Then I’m gone.”

His bug’s path trembles in the wind, but it doesn’t stray its course. Tom’s hands are strangling the wheel now.

“Does that make you wanna go through with this less? I could be lying now. Maybe I’ll stay forever, I don’t know. What I do know is that I need my partner to trust me.” I lay my head on his shoulder and say, “I love you. I know you love me, too. Isn’t that enough?”

He screws up his face, deciding. He chooses to say nothing, and turns the radio back on. Save that, it’s quiet until Big Bertha's loom crests the horizon.

“If I ask you to stop at the big ol’ gal, are you going to push me off and be done with it?”

He laughs, “Of course not. I love you, too.”

“See now that’s the most romantic thing you’ve said all trip.”

Big Bertha is a rusting crane, long decommissioned, but it still makes a decent excuse for a tourist trap. Most people are too smart or too boring to fall for those things anymore, but not me and Tom. Big Bertha is up on a bit of a hill, roiling walls of grain all around. The gate attendant is either sleeping or out to lunch. If you and your partner are the adventurous sort, it's a nice romantic detour. If you and your partner are exceedingly stupid, the view from the top is to die for.

“Babe, didn’t you feel the wind shaking the car earlier? You can’t climb that thing.”

“I’ll just hold on tight, like before! Come on, Tom. For me?”

“No way.”

“You can’t stop me, then."

I’m already climbing the chicken wire fence. Tom’s deciding to say nothing. I hop over, a little puff of dust toots up from the ground. Bertha’s corroding form looms above me on a dry, cracked concrete slab. She’s as tall as a wind turbine, and twice as climbable

“Please don’t go up there. If something were to happen to you now—”

I don’t wait for him to finish. The rusty iron spokes running up along Big Bertha are plenty grippy for my feet, but I quickly want to go back for gloves. I’m as stubborn as Tom is in some ways, though. I don’t, and my hands stay the course.

The wind does blow awfully strong in Kansas. I feel Bertha swaying slightly as Tom and the car and the cracked concrete slab are progressively swallowed up by the wheaty sea. I was right, too. All I need to do is hold on tight and be brave to keep myself steady as I climb.

I don’t bother to get to the top, but I do stop and gawk at a little valley I see a ways down the road. There’s a thick fog being kneaded by the wind, I can see it threatening to spill out of the valley. When the wind settles, it will. For now, the wind lopes over it without a care. I was able to fool myself that I had climbed above the squall line, looking at that valley. Up in the air, feet dangling above the clouds.

I kick my feet like that for a little spell, and then I do feel bothered to get to the top. The funny thing is at that point it’s not hard, and the Kansas wind settles down just a bit. Just for me.

I find it easy to love Kansas because it does that for me. It’s a more nurturing place than the swamp I call home. Easier to breathe, easier to feel free. I look down from Big Bertha on the climb down, and I can just barely see a little ‘FOR SALE’ sign on the bob-wire. I don't believe it.

That’s what I rush to when my feet hit the lovely, dusty ground. Of course, It’s not Big Bertha, It’s the land next to her. I don’t know how big an acre is, maybe it’s even the land around her. I’m walking back to the car, where Tom’s waiting in a little huff. I’m daydreaming about buying the land and homesteading a little ranch, or rather, an orchard. I wonder what would grow here, and the answer licks at my face with almost a longing. It’s a sweet little picture, just farmer me and my farmer Tom under Big Bertha. All we’d need is a thresher and we could spin this straw already around us into gold.

“I can’t believe you did that. She’s fit to fall over any day now.”

Now I’m quiet for a moment as the beast groans above. He’s right, but I’m glad I did. What if she falls just as we roll down the hill? I may never see her shape against the sun again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come. I should have.”

I’m still quiet. I’m wondering about some more realistic housing options. I know Augusta’s super cheap. I love Wichita, but that place will drain the very soul from your bank account.

“Babe, look I—”

Now I put a little finger up to shush him. Forceful, yet gentle on his lips. I look at him with all the love I feel for him, right then and there. That’s how it is with me and him. The rain finally begins to fall in Kansas, and the windshield wipers screech across Tom’s windshield. “Hey, you love me. You just can’t stand it. Let’s just get back home this once, ok?”

[katherine-villyard]

What is the Meaning of Life?

- 42, of course! - Eat well, try to get exercise, make some friends. - Something else? You know. The unanswerable question. Fun for the whole family! It's something that I've always been interested in. In college, I signed up for a freshman English course called "The Search for Self." They gave us a Myers-Briggs on the first day and discovered that the class title had attracted a statistically unlikely number of INFPs... including me. (Do people still "believe" in the Myers-Brigggs? I've heard some backlash. Does it matter for the purposes of this story?) My parents were badly matched on matters of religion. My mother was a "Don't tell me what the Bible says, young man, I've read it cover to cover!" Christian. My father was a bitter atheist who followed my mother's instructions to keep his mouth shut at home. Our religious instruction was.... illogical and Disneyfied and failed to stick. My sister is an atheist, and I... pondered a lot. Like, a lot. People who've read my work can probably tell. Even as a mythology-loving agnostic, I had a soft spot for stories about what it means to be a person. I was curious upon reading an article that the propensity towards religion might have a genetic component. (Don't worry, I'm probably not headed where you think I am.) Is it genes? Or are my sister and I so different on the topic of religion because Mom dragged her to an awful church after our parents divorced, and I was treated to nightly lectures on how religion proves that P.T. Barnum was right that there's a sucker born every minute? I went to that same church after I moved in with my mother. My sister and I had an amazing rebellion, where we would put our heads together and sing poorly. I would go up or down the way you're "supposed" to for the song but at the wrong interval, and she would sing a half or quarter tone off from me. Our mother, a former Opera singer, stopped making us attend. BWAHAHAHA! For what it's worth, this is my official position on atheism:   A Rabbi is teaching his student the Talmud and explains God created everything in this world to be appreciated, since everything is here to teach us a lesson. The clever student asks “What lesson can we learn from atheists? Why did God create them?” The Rabbi responds “God created atheists to teach us the most important lesson of them all – the lesson of true compassion. You see, when an atheist performs an act of charity, visits someone who is sick, helps someone who is in need, and cares for the world, he is not doing so because of some religious teaching. He does not believe that God commanded him to perform this act. In fact, he does not believe in God at all, so his acts are based on an inner sense of morality. And look at the kindness he can bestow upon others simply because he feels it to be right.” “This means” the Rabbi continued “that when someone reaches out to you for help, you should never say ‘I pray that God will help you.’ instead for the moment, you should become an atheist, imagine that there is no God who can help, and say ‘I will help you.'”   Anyway. What makes a robot or a string of code a person or not? What is the ineffible thing that makes something alive? Do vampires have souls? What about cats? My mother told me that "Good kitties go to heaven and bad kitties go to hell" and it completely destroyed my faith in what she had taught. Parents, I hear lots of people say they lost their faith when they asked Mom and Dad if Rover and Fluffy went to heaven, so answer that question wisely. But in my case, I spent wayyyy too long analyzing what a cat could do that would merit eternal damnation. Eating a mouse? that's dinner. Pooping on the floor instead of the box? clearly lake of fire material (NOT). It just led me to believe, as a precocious 11 or 12 year old, that hell is dumb. So, what is consciousness, anyway? There's clearly some kind of gestalt where the chemical processes become more than the sum of their parts, and this process breaks apart on death. Is that a soul? I don't know! Does it matter, when whether it's a soul or not breaking down the process is a Humpty-Dumpty thing where you can't put it back together? I'm not sure having the answer is what's important. I think the freedom to ask the question (or choose not to) is. Read the full article

[mzminola]

Community

Straight and cisgender people being part of the broader queer community is good in a variety of ways, and the example from my own life is growing up queer in a small town with parents who were supportive before either they or I knew I was queer.

My mom and dad grew up in Berkeley CA and were involved through their youths in a variety of extremely nerdy things like the Society of Creative Anachronism, Dungeons & Dragons (and a Star Trek inspired sci-fi variation), theater, etc. Within those groups, and other parts of their lives, they had a lot of queer friends.

They moved around a lot as adults, and this was the pre-internet era so staying in touch was harder, and even when they stayed in touch they didn’t necessarily see people in person much. I wound up growing up in a small liberal town in western WA. Statistically, due to the small population, I just did not know any out queer adults in my hometown when I was growing up. There was no GSA at the school, either.

But for years I had stories of queer adults, long before I ever knew I needed them. I never once worried my parents wouldn’t accept my bisexuality, because I was so very used to my parents talking about queer friends of theirs who were giant nerds, with the exact same fondness and nostalgia as all their other friends. Stories of queer-specific shenanigans were told alongside all the other shenanigans.

We had semaphore flags in the costume playtime box because Dad’s a nautical history nerd, and we had big motorcycle goggles designed to fit over chunky glasses because Mom used to catch rides around the Bay Area with lesbian biker friends. That blend and casualness was just a normal part of my childhood.

~

I learned from stories of my parents’ friends that you could take stereotypes and turn them into in-jokes; gay friends playing backyard baseball or catch or other sports totally flubbing a throw, and heckling each other with “What’s the matter honey, your wrists too limp?”

~

I learned about the AIDS epidemic, of the loss, the grief, the stigma, and of the ways people fought back. Supported each other. I learned a lot more when I was older from queer adult survivors of the epidemic online, but I learned first from my parents, who were still grieving friends they lost.

This was not distant history, this was not something that happened to “other people” this was something that happened to their community.

~

My father’s mother’s brother is gay. My great uncle. He raises tropical birds. When he was a much younger man than he is now, the signaling style of wearing a diamond earring in one ear was starting. Now, at the time, most men to wear a diamond earring as a signal of their sexuality wore very small, discreet flecks. Just this little flash of light that might catch your eye, that might make you look again.

Great Uncle inherited his mother’s engagement ring, took that honking big “look at me and admire how I got engaged! Look at me, look at me!” diamond to the jeweler, and got that sucker turned into an earring. You could not fucking miss it.

And you know what? That’s how I learned about queer signaling as a thing people could do, it was presented as a fun family story, and I wouldn’t have heard it if not for my parents, because Great Uncle lives in a completely different part of the country from us and doesn’t travel much, so I’ve only met him twice, during which everyone was catching up on current life, not stories of his youth.

~

When my mom, dad, and their friends were all young adults who’d recently left home and were living in a different state from their families, one of their friends was a butch gay man who’d recently come out to his parents. And his mom wanted to be supportive, and she was a person who sewed clothes herself. So she made him shirts. She had his measurements, and she’d regularly mail him care packages with beautifully hand-made button up shirts in pink and purple fabrics. Because those were the gay colors at the time, and she wanted to make sure he knew she supported everything about him, that she would never want him to change himself to fit in society’s mold.

Now the thing was, pink and purple were not actually to his taste. They were not colors he’d normally pick out for himself. But he and his parents didn't live in the same state anymore, this was pre-Internet, if you wanted to share photos you had to take them, develop the film, and mail them. So she wasn’t seeing his style regularly, she was seeing the style of the out gay men back in the Bay Area, and doing her best.

He wore the shirts. He was running around the Oregon countryside as a butch gay man in the early 1980’s in pink and purple button ups, because his mom made them for him with love, he loved her too.

So I heard this story growing up, and I learned from it. I learned parents could love and wholly support their queer children long before I ever heard about parents who rejected theirs. I learned love is in the actions we take. That it’s going to be imperfect, but what matters is we’re trying our best, and accepting that from each other.

~

I’m bisexual, and I’ve got some weird gender stuff going on. I did not know any out queer adults in my hometown growing up. I did not find any writings until the early 2000’s when the Internet became more accessible. My school did not have a GSA.

But I knew I wasn’t alone. I knew pieces of west coast queer culture and history. I knew queer people could be giant nerds, could be outdoorsy, could be silly and serious and fully rounded people with rich, wonderful lives. That their friends and family could accept them wholly without hesitation. Because what was there to hesitate over?

I’ve said before my hometown is liberal, and it is, but it still had enough prejudice to keep me semi-closeted as a teen. I had peers insist to me that “a child needs a mother and a father”, had adults insist civil unions were fine but marriage equality would violate religious freedoms, heard peers use “gay” as an insult from late elementary school onwards (and the teachers just ignoring it).

I needed all those stories from my childhood. I needed them. And I had them. Without ever having to ask.

And my brother had them too. He’s straight and cisgender, and he has never been anything but 100% supportive of me. He was arguing for equal rights and refusing to use the derogatory language peers were before I ever came out to him.

When I see people trying to gatekeep the queer community, this is what I think of. I think of being a kid in a small town, without knowing any local out queer adults, hearing people around me say bigoted things, but having all these stories burning in the hearth of my heart, and I think…

You want to douse that flame?

You want to reach back in time and wrench those stories from the child I was?

You’d rather I grow up isolated, confused, lonely, and scared, than have my straight, cisgender parents in the queer community? You want me to be isolated now, you want my brother to abandon me?

Really?

Identity and community are intertwined, but they are not rigid, nor should they be.

Community being broader is good.

[septembersummer]

COLLEGE FRIENDS W BENEFITS OR JUST ANYthing college/uni PLAYBOY GOJO X READER please im starving

hehehe let's go ~

i actually love this prompt so much! playboy/fwb gojo is one of my favs. thanks for the req!

18+ only! minors dni!

wc: 1.4k

desc: gojo satoru is a player, and everyone knows it. maybe he'll get a taste of his own medicine for once~

tags: gojo x reader, college au, fwb au, gojo has a tongue ring, oral s*x, public s*x, possessive gojo, role reversal hehe, gojo is a fkboy, alcohol use

a/n's: pls excuse my typos lmao hope u have fun

You were shocked the day that Satoru Gojo first paid attention to you.

He has many names around campus, and none of them are good. He's a player, a filthy rich boy who's never known the struggles that others go through when trying to survive college.

He needs to write an English paper? Well, that's no big deal; he's got a girlfriend who's an English major, and if she hates him this week-- he'll just hire someone to do it for him! The same goes for probability and statistics, whatever science class he's signed up for (he doesn't remember, it's not like he attends much, anyway), and he can't even be bothered to worry about his electives.

However, there's one girl in his assigned history class that's been catching his eye recently. Most of the girls in here have come and gone (pun intended), but this one's different. You know the answers to the questions, always mumbling them under your breath without ever raising your hand to speak.

Satoru knows this about you, because he pays more attention to you than to anything that's said in the lecture, and he's curious to learn more about you and your mysterious aura. See, he's learning things at university! Just not the things that he's supposed to.

You sit across the room from him, and you never pay attention to him, even though you must be able to feel his attention constantly lingering on you. Your fingers drum on your keyboard quickly, and Satoru finds himself wondering how small they'd look wrapped around his--

He's distracted from his train of thought when a miracle happens. A god's honest miracle.

For the first time in six weeks (he's counted), you turn your gaze to look at him, and you scowl. Your expression only piques his interest more, unbeknownst to you.

That one look must be the reason that you keep bumping into Satoru Gojo, even though you've never intentionally done so. See, you aren't dumb, and you don't want to get involved with a player like him. You've seen the girls that hate Satoru, and all of them have a great reason to do so.

He stood me up on a date, because he was going on another date instead!

He only hooked up with me once, just so I'd write a paper for him! I fucking hate Satoru.

He let me give him head and kicked me out right after, like, who does that?

He tried to have a threesome with me and his roommate--

Maybe the last one isn't so bad, but still. You've heard the rumors, you've seen the shit-show that comes with him, so much so that you could easily quote the words that he says to girls when he kicks them out after he's finished with them.

So, when he bumps into you at a party, your first thought is thanks, but no thanks.

The pretty boy, however, takes your clear dismissal as a challenge. Maybe it's because he's a little drunk, and you're here at his apartment (you don't know that, you were just hanging out with Shoko-- swear!), but Satoru thinks that tonight is the night that he wants to see a whole new side of the shy girl from history 2256.

"Excuse me," you mumble, as Satoru bumps into you, nearly spilling your beer.

He doesn't leave. Instead, he places a hand on the wall that you're standing up against, effectively trapping you against the drywall as he stares down at you.

His eyes are magnificent, ethereal, something that shouldn't belong to a human, but you aren't interested. You've told yourself a thousand times that you aren't interested-- no need to falter now.

"You don't look like a beer girl, wallflower," he hums, leaning over you and licking his lips.

When you see the glint of something that looks like a silver tongue-ring, your resolve falters, though only slightly.

"Who says I'm a wallflower?" You reply, trying not to feel so small standing next to him, but he really is huge.

He knocks on the drywall behind you, "See this? This is a wall, and you're standing against it at a party. Think that makes you a wallflower, according to the book."

Your eyes narrow, "Did you read that book?"

"Do I look like I read that book?"

You take a deep, shuddering breath, and the beer is working its magic. Even though he's saying basically nonsense, the mischievous gleam in his eye is drawing you into him.

Gone is the frat party that you've been watching from a distance. Literally, it's blocked out by his broad shoulders. He's wearing a thrasher hoodie, and goddamnit if he doesn't actually pull it off, despite the fact that you're sure this pampered, rich boy has never been on a skateboard in his life.

"No, you don't look like you've ever read anything," you reply, lowering your voice to a soft murmur.

What happens after that is a blur to you, but you aren't particularly upset about it in hindsight. It didn't take long for him to work his magic, for you to find his arrogant sense of humor a little endearing, and for him to find your openly insulting comebacks to be a cute little challenge for him.

A challenge that he's won.

He can tell that he's won, because you're lying in his bed with your legs spread wide, as he devours you. The party is still raging in the next room, but the only remnant of whatever's happening there that remains in this dark room is the methodic thumping of the music outside trickling into the room as he kisses, sucks, and slurps your pussy until you're mewling, grasping onto his hair for dear life.

Say what you will about the spoiled, filthy rich boy who goes through girls like they're disposables-- he's great at what he does.

"Satoru-- Satoru-- right there, I'm gonna-- nggh, ah--" you mewl, rocking your hips against his pretty lips, feeling his tongue ring slip over your clit, teasing and testing, while he fingers eagerly pump in and out of you.

"Mhm, cum for me, wallflower," he purrs, before giving an especially hard suck to your clit, and you're falling over the edge before you know it.

The room spins, and the only things grounding you are the thumping of the bass outside, and Satoru's hands that keep your thighs spread widely apart for him.

Even with hot cheeks, your resolve hasn't faltered that quickly yet. You sit up, placing your smaller hands overtop of his to pry them off of your thighs. He looks up at you in the darkness with confusion written all over his pretty features.

In response, you ruffle his hair affectionately and wipe your slick off of his glossy, soft lips, before leaning down to press a kiss to them.

"That was great, babe," you purr, "I'll call you next time I want you to do that for me."

"What?" He mumbles with shock written all over his features, as you stand up and fix your pants.

"Oh, did you think I wanted something serious?" You ask, remembering all those girls that have complained to you about Satoru's behavior.

At this point, you could quote him.

So, you do.

"You don't wanna spend the night?" He asks, looking a little frantic and confused, sitting up on the bed now as he watches you.

"Nah," you say, mimicking his tone, "but we'll see each other in class, Monday, right?"

"Our class is Tuesday," he mumbles dejectedly, as you lean over him to press another quick kiss to his lips.

"Ah, I forgot," you reply, caressing his cheek softly, "but I'll definitely call you, mmkay?"

You turn on your heels and head for his bedroom door, not even sparing him a glance as you leave through it and flatten your hair, off to find Shoko and get the fuck out of here.

Little did you know, trying to outdo Satoru in his own game would only lead you to trouble.

Which is why the next time he sees you, the two of you only have to exchange one heated glance before you're excusing yourself to the bathroom in the middle of the lecture, and Satoru's following right behind you.

The kind of trouble where every Tuesday at 10:15am, you find yourself bent over the sink in the girl's bathroom, as Satoru fucks into you roughly and reminds you that he's the only one that gets to see you like this.

And you like trouble, so you smirk and meet his eyes in the mirror, murmuring, "Ha, no way."

He only fucks you harder after.