#to say yes i have been accepted by a university no i am not lying to you to enter you beautiful country for nefarious purposes

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Got my CAS!! Finally!! Tonight it's Visa Time™ <3

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 47

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 7K

Masterlist

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Saturday, February 6th; 09:15 AM -  Ona's Room

I wake up to rather pleasant caresses on my back. The tips of her fingers slowly and repeatedly glide along my spine. I savor the moment without opening my eyes, afraid that it might fade away.

"You know, I can tell you’re not sleeping anymore," Lucy murmurs with a hint of amusement.

I hum softly, vibrating against her chest in time with her chuckles. I tighten my hold on her as I stretch my limbs, finally fluttering my eyes open to adjust to the daylight. I realize I forgot to close the blinds last night. What a terrible host I am.

"Good morning," I mumble.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

I smile at her response. Once I feel awake enough, I glance behind me but am surprised to find us alone.

"Is Joan not here anymore?"

"He went downstairs about fifteen minutes ago, I’d say."

"Did he wake you?"

"I was already dozing a bit," she admits.

"Oh, sorry about that," I grimace. "I should have warned you. He tends to wake up early."

"It’s all good," she smiles.

"Didn’t you want to go running today?"

"Not really. I might have gone if I had a guide," she jokes.

I chuckle at the idea that she might still expect me to join her. I’ve done enough of anything that resembles jogging. I enjoy the feeling after a run, but it’s been so long since I’ve done anything that I’ll just end up killing my lungs. Plus, running is Lucy's passion. As I’ve told her before, I love that we have different worlds.

"Looks like you'll have to wait until you're back in Manchester."

"It seems so, yes. I had a feeling you wouldn’t be motivated," she laughs as I sit up. "What are you doing?"

I glance over my shoulder, seeing her genuinely curious expression. I smile and respond as if it’s obvious:

"Well, I’m getting up."

"Why? Come back," she pleads with a whine.

A small yelp escapes me as she pulls me back down, then pins me by half-lying on top of me. Her laughter echoes in my ears, making me smile. It’s true that we’ve stayed in bed a little longer these past couple of days, but I didn’t expect it to continue. From what I know, Lucy is someone who wakes up early and doesn’t like to linger in bed.

"I was just keeping my distance before. In reality, I’m someone who loves spending time in bed with her girlfriend."

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Mmhmm," she smiles. "So, can we cuddle?"

"If you ask so nicely."

My laughter is muffled by her lips capturing mine for our first morning kiss. I bite my lip when she continues kissing down my neck. I almost reopen my wound when she starts gently nibbling on my skin.

"Lex," I whisper, gently pushing her shoulders.

"Weak spot, Miss Batlle?" she teases after a final kiss on my neck.

The smile she gives me as she looks at me makes me melt. So this is the real Lucy, the one she’s hidden from me until now. I blush, trying to hide my face with my hands, but Lucy pins them down on either side of my head, laughing.

"I’ll take that as a yes. This kind of wake-up call is much nicer, isn’t it?"

"I could get used to it…" I reply, still blushing.

"Relax. I won’t do it again if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No, it’s okay... It was... nice."

She smiles at me before resting her head on my shoulder. I take advantage of the moment, being the one who gets to hold her for once. My hand plays absentmindedly with her hair as I reflect. It really was nice. I need to learn to relax. I’ve already accepted that Lucy is the only one who can help me, and it seems that’s truly the case.

"Do you remember the weekend in the Alps we wanted to spend with my friends?" she breaks the silence.

"The one I ruined because I got sent back to class?"

"Indeed, that’s the one," she giggles.

She props herself up on her elbows to look at me. I feel embarrassed just thinking about it. I had felt so guilty for canceling her plans. Plus, it was a rare opportunity to get closer to her at the time.

"I remember, yes. Why do you ask?"

"I might have changed my mind about you coming with us," she tells me, letting her fingers trail along my stomach.

"Oh, really...? Is that still happening?"

"Yeah. We’ve rescheduled it for a week during the next school break since I couldn’t make it the first time. I’d like you to come with me."

"And how would I get there? You’ve already planned everything, right? Aren’t you all flying?"

"No, we’re driving there, and as for the room, I’ve reserved one with a double bed. I’ll just need to notify them of your presence to adjust the price..."

"You realize that means we’ll be sharing a hotel room for an entire week?"

"Of course," she smiles. "I want that, or I wouldn’t be asking. The only question is whether you want it too. If it helps, I heard Alexia will be coming as well."

"Really?" I ask, surprised.

"Mmhmm," her smile grows. "Jenni wanted to bring her along for once. And Ingrid will probably invite Mapi if their relationship has evolved and she knows you’re both coming."

"You’ve thought of every argument to make me say yes, huh?"

"I want you to come. We need this, and we won’t have a better opportunity to spend time with all our friends together."

"You know, my answer was yes from the start, but I appreciate that you’re still trying so hard to convince me."

"You idiot."

We laugh together before she rests her head back on my shoulder.

"Speaking of Mapi and Ingrid... Do you think they’ll be okay?" I ask.

"Why wouldn’t they be?"

"I don’t know... I haven’t really had time to follow their relationship... So I’m worried about Mapi."

"I’m not worried about them. They both have commitment issues, but Ingrid will take it in stride and reassure her. She wanted a new relationship. To be honest, I think they’re made for each other."

"I hope so..." I murmur, staring at the ceiling. "Mapi has reasons to be scared, you know. Her parents didn’t exactly give her the best love possible. And as for her romantic relationships, I dumped her like an old shoe, and her ex cheated on her with my ex, so..."

"You still care about her a lot to be so concerned, huh?"

"We’ve been through a lot together, so yes, of course. But tell me... I had the impression you didn’t like her that much. How come you talked to her when we weren’t on good terms?"

"You’re exaggerating. It’s not that I didn’t like her, I just thought she had a bad influence on you. And, I guess I was jealous of your relationship in a way..."

"Thought?" I repeat. "So you don’t think she’s a bad influence anymore?"

"No," she sighs. "When you stopped writing to me, she started harassing me, lecturing me. She was afraid you wouldn’t recover. That’s when I realized how much she cares about you. Sure, she drags you into her crazy plans, but she’ll always take care of you..."

"I’m glad you understand that... Mapi is really amazing, if you only knew. We support each other a lot because we know everything about each other, but you have nothing to be jealous of. Sure, she’s my ex, and we’re very close, but..."

I shrug, smiling softly.

"If we wanted to get back together, we would have done it a long time ago. If I had to describe her to someone, I’d say she’s my best friend, or even the third daughter of the family since she’s always hanging around here when I’m here," I chuckle.

"I know," she smiles. "You know what really feels strange to me? That your ex is dating my best friend."

"Put that way, it is indeed very strange," I laugh. "At least it’s no longer ambiguous between us. Well, Mapi did kiss me not too long ago, but believe me, she quickly regretted it," I giggle.

- "What?" She furrows her brows, sitting up. "She kissed you?"

- "It was nothing crazy," I reply with an amused smile. "It happened during Christmas break. She had just been dumped and needed some affection. She regretted it the second she realized what she had done, if that makes you feel any better."

- "Hmm... And I'm supposed to not worry about her or the fact that her stuff is still in your room? I doubt you'd like it if you found my ex's things in mine, or if you knew one of them had kissed me."

I wince at the thought. No, definitely not. If I were in her shoes, I probably would have thrown them out the window and lost my cool.

- "She'll move all her things out if that's what you want."

She giggles, burying her head in my neck. Her nose brushes up and down along my neck.

- "No, of course not. I was just teasing. But let me tell you right now, if we ever live together, she's not allowed to infest our apartment with her stuff."

- "It's a promise," I chuckle.

- "Now I'm reassured," she jokes.

- "So, what about Ingrid...? Are they really in love with each other?"

- "Especially Mapi. You should see the messages she sends her. Ingrid showed them to me. They were super cheesy."

- "Oh no, please... She didn't do that?"

- "She did," she laughs. "I had no idea she was such a hopeless romantic," she adds sarcastically.

- "I can't believe it," I giggle.

Having known Mapi in a relationship, I can say she's far from good at writing mushy messages. I used to laugh at the ones she sent me, even though I never told her. Expressing her love wasn't her strong suit, but it was really sweet and adorable that she tried. I'm glad she's comfortable enough with Ingrid to send her those kinds of messages. It seems like she's finally found someone good for her.

- "And you know," Lucy continues.

- "Hmm?"

- "Mapi really helped change my mind about us. It's partly why I trust her more now. Even if that whole thing with Korbin hadn't happened, I would have come to see you to talk about our relationship. I just couldn't stand the distance between us anymore."

- "And what did she say to make you change your mind?"

- "Ah, that's a secret," she giggles, stretching. "Anyway, we should get up. The girls are probably waiting for us."

- "I doubt it."

- "You'd be surprised."

She kisses my cheek before heading to the bathroom. I raise an eyebrow, wondering if she's right about the girls. I'll find out soon enough. Lucy returns quickly, the only difference being that she's swapped her shorts for sweatpants, and her hair is now gathered in a messy bun. I bite my lip at the sight. She doesn't seem to notice as she heads to her suitcase to pack her clothes.

- "Why were you so upset after your last breakup?" I start a new conversation. "You never really talked about it."

We've talked a lot about Mapi and Feli, so I suppose it's okay to talk about her ex. Lucy pauses in her movements.

- "Are you sure you want to know?" she asks, running a hand through her hair.

- "Of course," I say, sitting up to pay more attention.

- "Okay. Do you remember that girl at the bar, the day I rejected you?"

- "Yes...?"

- "That was her," she says bluntly. "Her name is Alex, and we were together for four months. I thought she might be the one. We spent a lot of time together during the summer. In the end, she reacted like the others when I went back to work and blamed me for my lack of commitment. She wanted more, and I wasn't able to give it to her."

- "I see... Is that why you were scared for us?"

- "Partly, yes," she sighs. "I was afraid of making the same mistake with you and hurting you even more."

- "That won't happen. I'm not letting you go now that I have you. I'll keep chasing after you as long as you try to run away," I joke, making her smile.

- "Well, that's reassuring, I suppose."

I return her smile with a nod. She said I'm different from the others, and I plan to prove it. I care about her a lot, so there's no way I'm letting her go without a good reason. She hasn't let go of me yet, so neither will I.

- "Everything will be fine, I promise," I say.

- "I hope so.... Okay, now, I'm starving, so if you could get ready so we can go down."

I chuckle and nod. Before heading to the bathroom, I turn back to her.

- "Thanks for being honest with me. You were right about communication being important."

- "I'm always right, babe."

I laugh as I close the door. I slip into some sweatpants as well, then brush my teeth and hair before we head downstairs. I realize I haven't yet seen Lucy's house as I watch her looking around. Then again, we did arrive pretty late.

- "The house is really beautiful."

- "Too big for my taste, if you ask me. I'll give you a tour later, if you want."

She nods with a smile. Mine appears as we enter the kitchen and see Samuel busy at the stove.

- "Hey, handsome," I say, making him jump.

- "Oh, damn! You’re crazy! I almost had a heart attack!"

I laugh at his fake stern look. He doesn’t look convincing at all, especially since he pulls me into a hug the next second.

- "You’re lucky I missed you, or I’d make you clean up this whole mess," he says, pointing at the now-disorganized counter, which is apparently my fault.

- "Oops... Sorry."

- "Yeah, sure... You don't mean it at all."

- "It's true, you're right," I giggle.

- "How are you? I heard about your adventures. I didn’t imagine it was that bad," he grimaces.

- "I’m fine. It was worse at first," I reply.

He smiles, understanding that I don’t want to dwell on it, and finally looks behind me. I turn to see Lucy watching us with amusement from the kitchen entrance. She approaches when I extend my hand to her.

- "My mom probably told you about her... This is Lucy."

- "So you’re the one responsible for all of this, huh?" he teases. "Nice to finally put a face to the name, Lucy. I assume I can call you by your first name?"

- "Of course," she smiles. "It’s nice to finally meet you, too. She’s told me a lot about you."

- "Not as much as she talked about you. You’re the only person whose name I remembered, given how many times she mentioned you."

- "Sam," I groan, hiding my blush in Lucy’s arms.

- "Aw, don’t be shy," she giggles. "It’s cute," she says before kissing my forehead. "As for you, she’s talked a lot about your cooking. It seems she’s starting to prefer mine," she adds, making him gasp.

- "Oh, really? I’ll remember that,  Ona."

- "Shh! You weren’t supposed to say anything! Now he’s going to be sulking all weekend."

- "Don’t worry. She did say I absolutely had to try your dishes," she tries to make up for it.

- "Hmm, sure," he smiles. "Well,  Ona, you sure don’t pick the ugly ones, huh? And that’s coming from the gayest person on the planet."

His comment makes me blush again. He’s really not holding back today. Luckily, Lucy finds it funny and thanks him for the compliment.

- "So, who made the first move? I want all the details!"

- "You’re not getting anything," I say just as Lucy points to me.

I give her a wide-eyed look and tap her hand.

- "Don’t tell him!"

- "Oh, it’s not a secret," she smiles.

- "So, it was you, Onita ? I never would have guessed."

"I’m full of surprises, what can I say. »

I wait for their laughter to subside before offering Lucy a coffee. She accepts eagerly, so I start making it for her while preparing my hot chocolate on the side.

“You’re lucky. This is probably the first time she’s ever bothered to serve anyone,” Sam teases.

“Are you done?” I groan at Sam. “You’re going to scare her away!”

“Not at all,” Lucy replies. “I like being the exception.”

I glance at Lucy, who’s seated on a barstool, watching me with an amused expression. The least I can do is make her coffee. When I’m at her place, she always takes care of everything for me. It’s not my fault that my mom hired people to handle the household chores. I’m just taking advantage of the chance to do something myself since Sam usually forbids it.

“Are the girls already up?” I ask.

“Yeah, they’re eating in the dining room with Joan,” he informs me. “I made pancakes and pastries.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Jo’s happy to see you again, you know.”

“I know. He slept with us last night. Was he too much trouble?”

“A little, but nothing we couldn’t handle. You should check in with him more often. He asks me almost every day if you’ve called.”

“I’ll try, I promise,” I reply, feeling guilty. “It’s just been complicated lately—between my broken phone and all the drama…”

“Oh, right. What happened with that? You’re not the type to mistreat your phone.”

“I threw it on the ground out of frustration,” I shrug. “Mom let me get a new one,” I say, pulling it out of my pocket.

“Well, make sure you use it.”

“I will.”

I take my mug out of the microwave and hand Lucy her coffee. She thanks me with a kiss, which makes me smile like an idiot. I could easily get used to these little gestures of affection.

“That’s sweet,” Sam grins. “Are you planning on coming back for the holidays?” he asks us.

“Maybe. We’ll talk about it,” Lucy answers before I can.

“Hmm… Well, we’re going to join the girls. Thanks again for breakfast, Sam. See you later.”

“See you later, girls.”

I lead Lucy to the dining room, which is not far from the kitchen. It’s my least favorite room in the house, but I might change my mind when we find Mapi, Ingrid, and my little brother chatting and laughing over breakfast.

“Ah! There they are at last,” Mapi says when she sees us.

“Ona!” 

I hand my mug to Lucy and pick up Joan. He kisses my cheek and then, surprisingly, does the same to Lucy. I’m not used to him warming up to strangers so quickly. I’m glad he’s reacting this way with Lucy. He even asks Lucy to sit next to him. I’m going to get jealous if this keeps up! So, I sit across from Ingrid while my brother takes the seat between Lucy and Mapi.

“How are you, girls? Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah… We had a good night,” Mapi responds.

I can’t believe it! Mapi Leon blushing? That’s a first! Lucy and I exchange a knowing look. It seems like everything worked out fine after all. To avoid teasing her further, I turn to Lucy.

“What would you like?” I ask, taking her plate.

“Pancakes, please,” she answers with a small smile.

I serve her as well as she did for me. After I’m done, I hand her plate back and grab a pain au chocolat for myself. Sam made them from scratch, so they’re the best.

“Any ideas on what we could do this afternoon?” I finally ask.

“We could show them around town since they’re here,” Mapi suggests. “And bring the little rascal along.”

“I’m not little anymore!” my brother whines.

“Aww, you’re almost as touchy as your sister,” Mapi chuckles, pinching his cheek.

“Hey!” I protest.

“Let’s not start this early in the morning,” Lucy intervenes. “But exploring the town sounds like a good idea.”

“It’s definitely more pleasant than Manchester. This town seems great,” Ingrid comments.

“We could go out to eat afterward,” Mapi suggests.

“Yeah. We should let Sam know,” I agree.

“Yep, you’re right! I’ll go tell him now.”

She doesn’t wait for anyone’s confirmation before heading to the kitchen. I smile as I see Ingrid’s eyes follow her, then she turns to me.

“Your best friend has a serious commitment issue, huh? I thought I had one, but she’s worse than anyone.”

“I’m not surprised,” I reply.

“If I hadn’t kissed her, we’d still be stuck. But once she’s on board, there’s no stopping her!”

“We could do without the details,” Lucy interjects. “Especially with a child at the table.”

“Oh, I’m only talking about some kisses, nothing more.”

“We’re happy for you,” I say.

“That’s it!” Mapi interrupts with a huge grin. “We’ve got the all-clear for lunch.”

I suppress my smile, noticing how euphoric she seems. Last night must have done her a lot of good.

“By the way, did you ask  Ona about the Alps?” Ingrid changes the subject.

“Just now. You’ll have to put up with me for another week,” I answer.

“You should be saying that to Lucy,” she giggles.

“Don’t worry, we’re getting along quite well so far,” Lucy replies.

“Absolutely,” I nod in agreement.

I smile at Lucy, who seems to be teasing me. I understand why when she brings a napkin to my chin.

“You really don’t know how to eat.”

I feel embarrassed as the others laugh around the table.

“Thanks,” I mumble when she’s done.

“You’re welcome,” she smiles warmly. “So, are you taking her with you?” she asks Ingrid, nodding toward Mapi.

“Hmm… I’m not sure yet.”

“Really?” Mapi says, looking disappointed.

“What? It’s not even been a day since we got together.”

“They haven’t been together long either!” my best friend retorts, pointing at us.

“That’s different. They’ve been hanging out and sleeping together for a while.”

“Pff. Fine. I get it,” she says, pouting.

It’s funny to see Mapi get upset over something so minor. I would probably act the same way if I didn’t know Ingrid was joking. This shows they still have a lot to learn about each other. Over my visits to their office, I’ve discovered that Ingrid has quite a playful side—just as much as Mapi. Lucy is probably right when she says they’re meant to be together.

“You silly thing. Of course, you’re coming with us! And it’s not a question, it’s a requirement.”

Mapi’s reaction is priceless. She’s always been so dominant with me; this must be a new experience for her. I hide my amusement as I continue my breakfast, enjoying Lucy’s hand resting on my thigh. I realize I’m the last one still eating, and I need to hurry if we want to leave soon.

Saturday, February 6th; 2:00 PM - Downtown.

I’ve never seen the town so crowded as it is today. No one expected this. I have to hold Joan’s hand to keep from losing him. He’s now nestled between Lucy and me, but at least this way I’m sure we won’t lose him in the crowd.

“It’s crazy; yesterday, there was no one,” Mapi comments.

“We could have stayed at the restaurant longer if we’d known.”

« Ona,” my brother calls, tugging on my hand. “Can we go to the pool instead?”

“The pool?” I frown.

“It’s a good idea; it could be fun,” Lucy agrees. “There’s no point in staying here, anyway. We won’t see anything interesting with this many people.”

"Do you have enough swimsuits to lend us?" Ingrid asked me.

"Well..."

"You promised we'd go again someday!" Joan whined.

I bit my lip nervously. The idea didn’t excite me as much as it did the others. I sighed, releasing the tension in my shoulders.

"I think I can find something if that's what everyone wants."

"Yessss!" 

Joan drew attention by jumping up and down with excitement. No one seemed to notice my reluctance, so I kept quiet to avoid dampening everyone’s enthusiasm. We headed back to the car. Hector had agreed to let us use one on the condition that either Lucy or Ingrid drive. I was slightly annoyed by this. Lucy offered to let me drive, but in the end, I let her take the wheel. I might have agreed if we were alone, but today wasn’t the case. We returned home to gather our things. Fortunately, I found swimsuits that fit Lucy and Ingrid. Once ready, we set off for the indoor pool that also had a water slide park, as requested by Joan. Mapi and Ingrid reacted like big kids to the idea. Unlike in the city, we were relieved to see that there were far fewer people here. Mapi was the first to rush inside with Joan. It seemed like they had really missed this. It had been so long since we last came.

"This place is huge," Ingrid commented.

"Yeah. There are plenty of pools to satisfy everyone, so it’s really cool."

We caught up with Joan and Mapi, who were already in line to buy our tickets. The place was so big that it didn’t feel crowded. I managed to get ahead of Lucy to buy our tickets, including Joan’s, since she had already paid for lunch. She didn’t like it, but it was my weekend at home. When we’re in Manchester, she’s the one who pays, so it’s only fair to return the favor. Once everyone was through, we headed to the locker rooms. Mapi and Ingrid decided to share a locker, so we did the same with Lucy and Joan. The three excited ones were the first to finish undressing. I was the slowest. Lucy must have noticed because she told them to go ahead. Unable to hold them back any longer, they even took Joan with them, promising to keep an eye on her.

"Is everything okay?" she asked once we were alone.

"Yeah..."

"I can tell it’s not. Do you want to talk about it?"

I sighed softly. I wish she had noticed earlier. Neither of us had removed much yet. We had just taken off our jackets and shoes.

"I’ve never... you know," I said, gesturing to myself.

I realized she didn’t understand when she frowned. I nervously ran my hand through my hair, feeling anxious about confessing this to her.

"You're the only one, besides Joan, who’s seen me in my underwear since what Feli did to me. No one else has seen my scars, and I don’t feel comfortable being this exposed anymore. Plus, I still have bruises from Korbin, and they’re not exactly pretty."

"Why didn’t you say something earlier?"

"I don’t know. Everyone was so excited to come here," I shrugged.

She gently cupped my cheeks, forcing me to lift the head I had lowered.

"You should’ve told me."

"It’s fine, really... I need to push through this sooner or later."

"You don’t have to do it alone. If you had told me you were uncomfortable with your body, I would’ve told you that you’re beautiful to me, and you always will be. No matter how many marks you have, they’re part of your story, and you shouldn’t be ashamed of them."

Tears welled up in my eyes. Why is she so perfect? She smiled before kissing me tenderly. The kiss deepened with so much love that it made my stomach flip. While I was distracted, she gently lifted my sweater and took it off before I could even process what was happening.

"If I have to help you love your body again, I’ll do it. In any case, I’m very happy to be the only one who gets to touch it."

The way her eyes devoured my torso made me blush furiously. She bit her lip to stifle a smile as her gaze slowly moved back up to meet mine.

"I’d feel more comfortable if you took off your top too," I finally managed to say.

She chuckled softly and, to my surprise, complied. How can she envy my little belly when she has such a sculpted body? For the first time, I took in the sight, lingering on her lower abdomen where her abs were slightly visible. Not to mention the tattoo that made her even sexier. I should have looked back up, but my eyes were glued to her torso. It was her laugh that snapped me out of it.

"Glad you like what you see."

"Oh God, look at you! How am I supposed to feel confident next to you?" I retorted, making her laugh.

"Start running again if you don’t like your body. You only maintain it with exercise."

"Is that the future fitness coach talking?" I asked, watching her take off her pants.

"Maybe."

"I’m already jealous of your future clients."

"Clients?" she laughed. "We won’t be in school anymore. But if you want, I’ll give you a special training session."

"Oh really? Like an intense workout?"

"No. Like a girlfriend workout," she said with a wink.

"Maybe we can negotiate then," I joked.

"Alright, enough teasing. Get undressed so we can go."

I grumbled as I took off my pants. Seeing her in a swimsuit had made me feel a bit more confident. My girlfriend is a knockout. To think she chose me when she could have any other girl. I neatly folded my clothes before Lucy closed our locker. She kept the key by strapping it to her wrist. She smiled at me as she held out her hand.

"Ready?"

I nodded, taking her hand timidly. Without giving me time to think, she led me toward the showers. Walking behind her, I noticed a new tattoo that ran the length of her back.

"Wow," I breathed.

"What is it?"

« Your back »

"Oh, right," she laughed.

"It’s beautiful."

« Thanks. » 

We reached the showers, where only a few spots were occupied. We managed to get two next to each other to rinse off before heading to the pools. As we exited, I looked around for the girls, but they were nowhere to be found. Knowing them, they had probably headed straight for the slides. I gasped when I no longer felt my feet on the ground. Instinctively, I kicked my legs, but it didn’t stop Lucy from cradling me in her arms.

"Hey! What are you doing? Put me down!"

"Nope," she giggled.

I laughed when I realized she was enjoying herself. She gave me a playful smack on the butt as she approached the nearest pool.

"No, please! Don’t do this!"

I begged, clinging to her neck. Her laugh was muffled against my shoulder as I squeezed her tightly.

"Hmm... What’s your offer to avoid it?"

"Anything you want."

"Oh really?"

"Yes!"

"Alright. I’ll remember that you owe me one," she laughed, setting me down.

I groaned, punching her arm.

"That was really uncool."

"Oh, don’t pout, please," she said, pouting herself. "Or I might actually throw you in the water."

"No! Besides, I want to find the girls before getting in the pool."

"The girls can take care of Joan if that’s what you’re worried about. I’d like us to spend some time together if we can."

I bit my lip, thinking over her suggestion. It would indeed be a chance to enjoy some time as a couple and also to get to know this new side of Lucy. I liked discovering new aspects of her. I groaned when she made an adorable face to try and convince me.

"Stop making that face."

"Please," she insisted.

I had nothing to worry about with Joan, right? Ingrid was an instructor at a private school, so I had no doubt she could be serious about her safety. I sighed, clearly giving in to Lucy, who started to smile.

"Alright, you win," I conceded. "Let’s spend some time together."

"Yes!" she said, lifting me up again, making me panic.

"No, no, no, please," I pleaded, struggling as she moved toward the pool steps.

"Relax," she giggled. "Hold on to me and just let it happen."

"No, please. I don’t like getting in all at once. And I don’t want to get my hair wet."

"We’ll get in slowly together. And as for your hair, either tie it up or wash it again tonight."

"Luce!"

She ignored my pleas and continued to move forward, dipping her feet into the water. I quickly tied up my hair with the elastic around my wrist. It didn’t matter if it got wet; I just hated having it loose in the pool. Apparently, Lucy felt the same since she had tied hers up before the shower. I clung to her neck as I felt the tips of my toes touch the water next.

"Slowly, please."

"I promise."

I managed to wrap my legs around her waist so she could hold me better. I pressed closer to her as the water reached my calves. I held my breath as it began to rise to my thighs. Lucy must have noticed because she giggled softly.

"The water isn’t that cold. »

- "Speak for yourself," I whispered into her neck. "I can be really sensitive to the cold sometimes."

- "Then keep clinging to me. I love it," she murmured teasingly.

- "It's not funny," I giggled.

I suddenly inhaled sharply when Lucy took a big step, causing the water to cover our legs.

- "Stop, stop."

- "Oh, come on. The worst part hasn't even happened yet."

- "Exactly! It's coming."

- "Then brace yourself."

I whimpered into her neck as she continued to slowly make her way through the pool. Her upper body was warm compared to the coldness of the water. She lowered herself so that the water reached our chests. I rested my head on her shoulder, pressing myself against her as much as I could. She must have gotten the message because she tightened her arms around me.

- "It wasn't so bad, was it?"

- "No... Never with you."

She kept moving until she no longer had to bend her knees. I slowly lifted my head so we could look at each other for a moment without saying anything. I appreciated our closeness.

- "Your wounds are starting to heal," she noted.

- "Yeah... I still have some scabs."

- "Maybe, but your black eye is starting to fade."

I closed my eyes as she gently touched it. The gesture was soft until she pressed on it. I groaned in annoyance, reopening my eyes.

- "Sorry," she smiled sincerely. "I'll put some cream on it for you tonight."

- "Thanks," I murmured.

I closed my eyes again as I rested my head on her shoulder. She really was perfect in my eyes. Just like this moment we were sharing.

- "I still can't believe it..."

- "What?"

- "Us. It’s hard to realize..."

- "I know. That's why we need to spend time together outside of school, so you can separate things."

- "Going back is going to be tough," I sighed.

- "It’ll all be over soon."

- "By the way... What will happen after school?"

- "We’ll go over the offer I secured for you. We'll have time to talk about it during the next break. For now, the most important thing is passing your exams."

- "Ah, there you are!" a familiar voice suddenly interrupted. It was Ingrid.

I turned to see her standing at the edge of the pool with her arms crossed. Our moment alone didn’t last as long as I thought.

- "Is something wrong?" Lucy asked.

- "We thought you were going to join us, not sneak off to cuddle!"

- "Hey there!"

We didn't have time to respond before we were attacked by two human torpedoes named Joan and Mapi. I groaned in frustration, now completely soaked. I was also forced to step away from Lucy when Joan slipped between us.

- "Did you go on the slides?" Lucy asked her.

- "Yes! We almost did all of them with Mapi and Ingrid. Don’t you want to try them?"

- "Later, we’ve got all the time in the world," she replied.

Ingrid distracted me by jumping in to join us. Joan took advantage of this to take my place in Lucy's arms. He had learned to swim this summer but didn’t like staying in one spot for too long. I didn’t have time to process their conversation before Mapi jumped on my back.

- "Get down, Mapi."

- "No way, I'm taking advantage while you’re back. Besides, your mom told me to take it easy on my leg," she joked.

I frowned, recognizing a half-truth in her statement.

- "Is that true? Why?"

I placed my hand on the scars on her knee, looking at her briefly. I was one of the few people, along with my mom, that she allowed to touch them. I always worried when she mentioned her injury since she rarely talked about it because it was such a hard experience for her. My mom had helped her a lot through it, so I never felt jealous of their close relationship. I was just glad Mapi had someone to support her.

- "The pain has come back."

- "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?"

- "Because it wasn’t that important. Hey girls, should we head back to the slides now that we’ve found you?"

- "Don’t change the subject, Mapi," I growled. "It is important."

- "I’m fine, I promise."

I sighed when she kissed my cheek before getting down to join my sister, who was starting to get excited about her suggestion. This gave Lucy the chance to return to me.

- "Everything okay?" she asked.

- "Yeah..."

I smiled at Ingrid, who was standing beside us. I realized she must have overheard our entire conversation.

- "Do you know what she went through?"

- "She vaguely mentioned it, yes."

- "You’re lucky. She doesn’t talk about it with everyone."

- "What’s the story?" Lucy asked.

- "I’ll explain another time," I replied. "Anyway, let’s go before we lose sight of them."

We joined Mapi and Joan, who were waiting for us at the edge of the pool. Joan was getting antsy. We headed to the slide area to make him happy. I’ve always loved the slides here. They’re very diverse. You can do them alone or with others. Some even have inner tubes. I have no doubt we’ll have a great afternoon, all five of us.

[mama-qwerty]

I debated making this post for a long time. Something's been eating at me for a while, and I couldn't figure out what until very recently.

So I haven't felt inspired to really work on my writing for weeks. The hate and anger being spewed toward the SCU in general, and the Knuckles series in particular, has really affected me more than I thought it did.

I came into the Sonic fandom by way of the movies. I love that universe, I love the characters, Knuckles being my favorite. My writing is primarily for the movieverse. That's what I'm comfortable with, and what interests me to really dig into.

Yes, I love game Knux. I've written some stuff for him, and that's great. He's fun to play with, too. But the SCU is where I 'live'.

I know the series is extremely polarizing. You either like it or hate it, and I get that it won't be everyone's cup of tea. I get that they did some things in it that were odd and didn't make much sense. I would have handled some things differently, too. It wasn't without its flaws.

But overall I found it a fun ride, and took it for what it was intended as - bonus content that likely won't have that much sway over anything upcoming in the movies. Not everyone will be able to see the show, after all, so they can't drop any major lore or additional stuff that's need to know for the rest of the verse.

I've seen more than one person claim that they hated the show so much they now hate the SCU in general. That Knuckles' portrayal was so different from what they were expecting, they're hurt and sad and angry about it. Totally get that. They feel betrayed. Understandable.

But what I'm feeling now is also a form of betrayal, because I felt accepted and welcomed into the Sonic fandom, and now that the SCU is viewed with such disgust and anger, moreso than before, I feel judged for enjoying it. I feel hurt and sad and angry that people are being so down on and dismissive of SCU Knux, a Knuckles I absolutely adore, simply because he's not being portrayed like he is in the games or other media.

Like someone came into a secret place I felt most safe and comfortable, took a look at something that made me happy, and sneered with a "You like that?"

I don't know where I'm going with this. I'm in no way policing what people can talk about, or saying they can't hate something I enjoy. I'm not saying they're not entitled to voice their opinion on something. They're as free to talk about it as I am.

But I'd be lying if I said this didn't bother me. More than I thought it would.

Maybe I'm being too thin-skinned, or over sensitive. Maybe I'm just sick of all the hate thrown around in general. Maybe I'm hoping that giving 'voice' to how I'm feeling will help me work through it and feel better.

All I know is that I'm feeling uncomfortable really engaging with a lot of the fandom right now, and it's making me really sad.

[lastoneout]

like real people do

Fandom: Pokemon Legends Arceus Rating: M Warnings: None Relationship(s): Professor Laventon/Captain Cyllene Word Count: 5,115

Summary:

During a late night at work, Captain Cyllene reveals to Professor Laventon that she's never been kissed. The two of them decide to do something about it. (A/N: This fic is only about 99% finished, but as it's been that way for several years now I figure it's time to stop keeping what I do have done all to myself. I've inserted explanations where the missing paragraphs are, so you should have all the context you need, there's just some missing prose.)

[The start was supposed to be something about two recruits getting caught making out and being punished for it, and then later that night, after everyone has gone home, Laventon and Cyllene are chatting and it comes up, at which point she says something about the recruits being careless or foolish, which leads into...]

"Yes, well," Laventon chuckles nervously, "the allure of such activities can pose quite the distraction at times."

Cyllene doesn't look at him, instead focusing on the papers in her hands, nimbly tapping the bottom of them against her desk and shifting them together so they fall into order with a satisfying thwhip, before placing them on the stack in front of her, all the corners lined up as uniform as soldiers, not a single page out of place.

"I wouldn't know," she says, the sentence as purposeful as her hands, not a word more or less than strictly needed in her usual clear, firm tone, though there is an unmistakable touch of something quite foreign to her voice—shame. 

Laventon's own embarrassment flares in response, and in his haste to correct his faux pas his words come in a veritable tsunami, starkly contrasting her concise reply. "O-oh, apologies Captain, I didn't mean to make assumptions! Enjoying things of that nature is far from a universal experience, t-theres hardly any reason to feel ashamed of not being interested, in fact, I'd say there's no reason at all-" 

"You misunderstand," she interrupts, "my inexperience is not due to a lack of interest on my part. There's simply never been anyone who reciprocates." 

That stops him dead in his tracks, his mind struggling with the idea that not a single person has ever found the Captain charming enough to so much as kiss, and before he can stop himself that doubt slips out. "Surely that's impossible-"

Her eyes at last meet his, her gaze sharp and cold, giving him the distinct impression that he's made an entirely different sort of blunder. "I don't make a habit of lying, Professor." 

"Of course," he agrees, calming his tone to hopefully convey his own honesty, "Of course, I apologize, that was insensitive of me. I've only ever known you to be truthful, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise."

Cyllene nods, silently accepting his apology. 

Still, Laventon has never been one to leave well enough alone—if he was he doubts he'd have lasted long in his line of study—and his disbelief fades into a strong flare of indignation, lashing out at the very idea that no one has ever deemed Cyllene worthy of their desire. "I just find it difficult to believe that you've faced such stark rejection," he continues. "Forgive me for overstepping, but anyone would be quite lucky to find themselves the object of your affection, Captain." 

A breath of silence passes between them as she searches his gaze, but before he can be sure of what she's looking for—or if she found it—her eyes drop to the desk in front of her and she politely replies, "That's kind of you to say." 

"I mean it! The people who have turned you down were surely fools. I wouldn't bother taking their misguided opinions personally."

"Indeed," she says, her tone barely on the courteous side of dismissive, and she stands, further signaling her disinterest in continuing this discussion. "Regardless of anyone's opinion of me or the reasoning behind it, I am incapable of fully understanding why a person would be so taken with desire that they ignore their duties, and even if I was, I doubt I'd agree. Aside from the separation of one's work and personal lives..." she pauses then, the first sign of uncertainty slipping past her ironclad control, "I imagine such activities would be better enjoyed when one has ample time to spend on them. Pleasure can be quite rare in this world, surely the haste and risk of interruption cheapens what I assume would be an otherwise pleasant experience."

Laventon nods, and while he knows it would be best to leave well enough alone, but the moment has left him flustered and anxious, and he can't seem to stop himself from rambling on in a hapless attempt to return to normalcy. "That is a fair point, though I can assure you, desire can be quite overwhelming at times, driving one to indulge in any spare moment they can.” He pauses, letting out a thankfully more composed laugh and shaking his head. “In truth, some even find the threat of discovery rather enticing in its own way.” 

"Again," she reiterates, her silent insistence that they drop the subject becoming decidedly less polite, "I wouldn't know." 

And yet, against all odds, he opens his mouth once more. "Well, it's not entirely impossible to change that, with the right help, of course."

Silence falls again, their faces both slowly turning red as the implication of his words settles over them, heavy and impossible to ignore. 

Laventon almost immediately wants to say something—anything—but the words at last refuse to come, dancing just out of reach as his mind sorts through the mess of emotions churning in his chest that only grow stronger and stronger with each passing second. 

He's embarrassed first and foremost, how could he not be, offering to kiss his Captain like some sort of lecherous fool? Even if he hadn’t meant anything disrespectful by it—he’s always been eager to make himself useful—it was still incredibly rude and he should absolutely apologize, but before so much as a simple “I’m sorry” can make it past his lips something else captures his attention, an enticing feeling disarmingly close to interest simmering under his remorse.

Would he be interested in acting on his accidental offer? Perhaps he would. Cyllene is quite beautiful, and a lovely person to boot. Even if it was just to help her gain experience, a friend helping a friend, kissing her...well, as he looks at her now lucky hardly feels like the right word. Perhaps offering in the first place was a senseless move, but backing out should she accept, that would truly be a foolish mistake indeed. 

"Forgive me, Professor," she starts, her words no less purposeful despite the uncharacteristic shyness weighing them down, "but do you mean to offer...?"

"Yes," he replies without so much as a moment's hesitation. 

"I see." 

Neither of them move, a strange, nerve-wracking, tempting feeling building in the air. Anticipation, like the crackle before thunder, or the second after one only barely dodges a pokemon attack. Unsafe, perhaps, but exhilarating nonetheless, and prone to leave one with a craving for more.

Still, despite his now quite ardent interest, the sense that he's made an ass of himself finally becomes impossible to ignore, and his practiced courtesy—as well as his desire to stay in the Captain's good graces—wins out. "Apologies, Captain, I don't mean to, t-there's no pressure, of course. I just, you deserve to experience things, if you'd like to, that is, and I- I'd be honored to be your first, or, uh- if you wanted me to h-help you-" 

Cyllene still doesn't respond, but that's not a yes any more than it's a no, so he firmly shuts his mouth, giving her the time and space she needs to decide.

And decide she does, just a moment later. "Alright." 

Laventon is too shocked to be anything but almost manically enthusiastic. "Brilliant! Well, there's no rush, of course, you just let me know when-"

"Now seems appropriate," she replies, seemingly ignorant of the contradiction of their setting—or, perhaps, it's more that she's stubbornly refusing to acknowledge it at all.

He almost points it out, but the building is empty and they're both nearly done with the day's work anyway, and he's far to taken to do anything but play along. "I couldn't agree more!" 

Cyllene gives him an odd, almost amused look, before coming around her desk slowly, each step closer making his heart race all the faster, until she's standing in front of him and his pulse is so intense he begins to worry he may pass out. 

Because goodness, she's far more beautiful than he ever noticed now that he's really paying attention, now that she's close, her face tilted up ever so slightly so she can maintain eye contact. He was wrong, he realizes, lucky doesn't even begin to cover whatever kind twist of fate has blessed him of all people with the chance to kiss someone like her. 

"As I said," she starts, her voice confident, yet quiet and intimate, a conflicting display that leaves him reeling, "I'm inexperienced, so I trust that you'll take the lead?" 

"Yes, of course. Leave all that to me." 

"Thank you. I'm ready when you are." 

Cyllene tilts her head again and lets her eyes fall closed, and while the angle is a bit wrong and there's a blush staining her pale cheeks he takes a moment to marvel at her nerve, envious that she can face something like this so fearlessly. 

He owes her no less than the same, he decides, and quickly brings a hand to her jaw to gently shift her face to the correct position before leaning down, his own eyes falling closed as his lips make contact with hers. 

It's slow, chaste—nothing more than a gentle bit of pressure—but his heart still skips a beat. She's warm, and so very soft, and though this isn't about him or a precursor to any other activities, he can't help the wave of desire that crashes over him, making him crave more.

He reminds himself to resist it. He's a gentleman—or at the very least a decent person—after all and Cyllene is his Captain as well as someone he considers a friend, he'd never risk ruining that bond by disregarding her consent. Besides, doing such a thing would sour the experience beyond salvage, and he already knows he wants to savor every second of this, commit it to memory so he can revisit it again as often as he'd like. 

His desire only grows at sight that greets him when he breaks the kiss; Cyllene's slate-blue eyes half-lidded as she gazes back at him, the blush on her cheeks far darker than it was before. 

Still, she's as honest as ever. "Interesting." 

"Interesting?"

"It wasn't at all unpleasant," she explains, "but I hardly think it's alluring enough to distract one at inopportune times." 

Even years later he'll struggle to understand exactly why he opened his mouth again, but that doesn't change the fact that he quickly replies, "Well, that was just a small kiss. The...distracting ones tend to be a lot more intense, to put it mildly." 

"I would assume they must be...still, I can’t imagine the difference is that profound." 

“I assure you, it is,” he chuckles awkwardly, face flushing, "though I must admit I’m not entirely sure how to describe it..."

Another beat of silence, and then, "Show me." 

"Oh!" he practically squeaks, feeling himself begin to drown in dual blinding panic and overwhelming desire to fulfill her request. "A-alright, as you wish. Just, uh, follow my lead, but do speak up if you want to s-stop, of course, and...feel free to- um, you know, take the reins, if you'd like." 

"Understood." 

Laventon keeps things simple at first, gently guiding her to move her lips against his while mostly closed, before finally parting his, heart hammering when she follows suit. 

He goes slowly, giving her as much time as possible to get used to things, but despite that less than a second after his tongue presses past her lips she lets out a shocked sound and jumps back, falling into a stiff stance nearly a full foot away from him. She tries to recover, or at least act natural, and nearly manages it, but the bright crimson blush coloring her face and the hand she's holding over her mouth betray her true feelings. 

"I'm sorry," he starts nervously, holding his hands up apologetically, "That's just um, how this s-sort of thing works..." 

"I know that," she practically snaps, letting her hand awkwardly fall to her side. 

He's not sure he entirely believes her, but either way he chooses to shoulder the blame. "Regardless, I should have warned you." She looks as if she can't decide if she agrees or not, so he continues, "Anyway, the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, Captain, and you've had a kiss now so, we can stop-" 

She shakes her head, some of her nervousness fading. "I don't want to stop. It was...simply an unfamiliar sensation, and it caught me by surprise."

"Are you quite sure? I don't want you to feel pressured-"

"I don't feel pressured, or uncomfortable, and I'm sure. If you're willing to continue, then so am I," she insists, starting to sound almost close to eager, and a fair bit more confident.

He nods. "Yes, I- um, I'm willing." 

Cyllene steps closer and tilts her head up once more, her stance more relaxed, though still guarded. "I'm ready." 

"Alright." 

This time Laventon tries to go even slower, to keep things progressing as naturally as possible, but in an apparent effort to maintain her composure she swings so far in the other direction that she hardly reacts at all when things move forward. It's undeniably awkward, leaving him feeling a bit like he's just poking at a statue, but soon enough she pushes past whatever is keeping her frozen and hesitantly moves in tandem with him.

It's still awkward, as she has no idea what she's doing, but the two of them have always worked well together and she's a quick study, and when she finally starts to get the hang of it the sensation that he lacked the words to describe begins to build up warm in his chest. It drives home how right he was, at least in his opinion, as even the slightest hint that she may agree to it would surely make the temptation to come do this with her at even the most inappropriate times incredibly distracting, to say the very least. 

And goodness soon distracting isn't even enough to cover it, because as the awkwardness fades and she becomes more confident, more bold—and almost desperate, needy, like she's waited her whole life for this moment and doesn't plan on passing up even a second of it now that it's come—his sense starts to leave him completely, the desire for more cementing itself firm in his chest. It makes his face burn and heart stutter and fingers flex at his side, barely resisting the urge to reach out, wrap her in his arms, and pull her close. If he can hardly hold his ground against that small temptation right now, knowing this was just on the other side of the door, waiting for him...heavens it would be like dangling water in front of a man dying of thirst. Far too cruel to even dwell on for long. 

Thankfully that train of thought is quickly swept away, because after a particularly arousing slide of her lips against his she suddenly tilts her head a bit more, letting herself get even closer, before reaching up of her own volition and gently resting her hands against his chest, her fingers hesitantly taking hold on his vest. 

It's almost overwhelming how instantly consumed by her presence he feels, and all at once he realizes that perhaps it's not just the kissing that he likes—though that is incredibly nice and she's becoming rather good at it unfairly quickly and it's sating his own baser needs exceptionally well—no perhaps what he truly likes is kissing her.

Just then, as if to convince him, she lets out a soft noise, something small right at the back of her throat, and leans in just a bit more, her fingers tightening their grip on his vest. It's beautiful, perfect, and for a moment the lustful desire gives way for pure, honest, burning affection. It's all the confirmation he needs. 

He likes her.

Oh, good heavens, he likes her. 

How had he not realized it before? They've known each other for years by now and have spent nearly every day together, surely he should have noticed that his feelings had drifted beyond platonic at some point. What point even was it? When had he started to appreciate her not as a coworker and captain, but as a companion? Someone he wanted around not merely because they share a common goal or mutual respect, but simply because it's her and things don't feel right if she's not beside him? Perhaps it all just happened so slowly, so naturally, that it hardly even registered until now, when it's finally right in front of him and impossible to ignore. 

Those people she spoke of, the ones who turned her down? They truly were fools. How could they not see how blessed they were? Laventon counts himself as fortunate just to share this moment with her, to be trusted so deeply that she isn't afraid to accept his help, to be able to stand close and truly take in how gorgeous she is, and yes, to kiss her, to hope that he's making her feel just as good as he does. To relish in it all, no matter how briefly, with a person he cares so very deeply for. If she even slightly returned these newfound emotions? He'd feel like the luckiest person alive. 

Pulling away is harder than it has any right to be, but when the time comes he manages, though he goes slowly, selfishly lingering in every last precious second until they're finally parted. 

"Do you understand now?" he asks softly, torn between staring into her eyes and gazing down at her lips, both sights overwhelming in their own way. 

Cyllene shakes her head, though he gets the distinct—and flattering—feeling that she’s chosen now to finally be dishonest. "It's...enjoyable," she explains, voice breathless and halting, "but I don't see how it's distracting-" 

Once again, he opens his mouth, caving to the desire to drag this moment out. "Well, admittedly, you t-typically get much- um, closer, than this..." 

"Closer?" she asks, a hint of urgency in her voice as she looks down at their bodies. They aren’t touching aside from her hands resting on his chest, but they’re still barely inches apart. 

"Yes." 

Cyllene wastes no time stepping forward until they're pressed flush against one another, forcing him to swallow nervously as his heart threatens to give out completely. "Like this?" she asks, meeting his gaze to confirm she hasn't misunderstood.

"Yes, s-sometimes or...almost." Because yes, often this is as close as couples bother getting, but no matter how much of her he has it's still not enough, and his eyes drift over to her desk beside them, though his voice one again fails him, as he's far too embarrassed with himself to explain. 

But she follows his gaze and puts the pieces together, and rather than be offended or embarrassed, she instead barely takes a moment to consider it before she steps past him and in one smooth movement hops up onto the thing, spreads her legs to make room, and yanks him close once more. 

"Like this?"

"Yes," he breathes, or tries to, anyway, it's become rather hard to pull in air past the overwhelming everything threatening to drown him completely. 

Cyllene lets the moment linger, her eyes dragging over his face, staring into his own eyes before drifting lower to his lips. "I can see how this is more intimate..." she admits quietly. 

"Indeed," he agrees, though as he continues his thoughts fight his attempt to put them into proper words. "I've found that the uh- the i-intimacy...it, well, a-accentuates the experience greatly." 

She leans a bit closer. "Would it be alright if I once again asked for your-"

"Yes," he interrupts, no longer caring how desperate he might sound. "I'd be happy to help." 

"Thank you." 

He waits with bated breath for her to close the distance between them once more, but she pauses, her gaze drifting up past his eyes. Her hand follows, delicately sliding along his cheek, tracing the edge of his hat before pushing past it ever so slightly, the tips of her fingers just barely grazing his curls. "May I...?" 

"Of course." 

“Alright,” she replies, before reaching up with her other hand to gently pull the knitted cap off his head and set it aside. 

Laventon flushes, feeling strangely bare without it. Not that he wears it for modesty reasons, it’s simply because he's always been more sensitive to the cold than the average person, but given the situation, he feels exposed and vulnerable. The feeling eases, however, when Cyllene's hands return to his head, one traveling up to run through his hair, the other cupping his jaw, her thumb grazing his beard. 

He can't suppress a sigh at the sensation, and he leans into her touch, letting his eyes fall shut. 

"Do you enjoy this?" she asks. 

He nods slowly, not wanting to dislodge her hands or discourage her touch. "Most people do." 

"I see." 

She continues her exploration, and she pulls her hand away from his hair before sliding it back through, this time grazing his scalp with her nails before making a loose fist and pulling ever so slightly. Despite how gentle it is he can't stop the small, appreciative whimper from escaping his throat, or his face from flushing bright red as it does. Thankfully she doesn't ask him to elaborate this time, though she certainly takes note of it, and she uses her grip on his hair to tug him into another kiss. 

This one is instantly far more heated than the previous ones, neither of them even remotely interested in going slow. Her hands move, wrapping around his shoulders, though she can't help but return to his hair, sliding her fingers up the back of his neck before slowly tangling them in the short curls there. It nearly makes him moan, but he swallows it back, only briefly concerned about how well she's pressing his buttons. 

The worry passes, however, as she next tightens her thighs around him ever so slightly, the pressure emptying his mind and cracking enough of his resolve that he finally touches her, letting his trembling hands come to rest on her sides, just above her hips. Even with the layers of her uniform between them he can tell she's warm and soft here too, but as good as it is it's not nearly enough, not anymore, and he can't stop himself from letting his hands slide a bit higher and then around to settle against the small of her back before using the leverage it grants him to pull her even closer. 

She seems to like it, breaking their kiss for just a moment to let out a soft, gorgeous gasp. He gets a quick look at her as she does, and his heart all but stops at the sight. In all the years they've worked together he's never seen her this disheveled before, her hair messy, face flushed, chest heaving, and it's so beautiful he almost—almost—wants to stop kissing her just so he can drink it in uninterrupted.

But then she closes the distance once more and he decides looking isn’t enough, no he wants to see if he can make it worse. Find out what she likes, exactly where and how to hold her, touch her, kiss her, and then dedicate all of Almighty Dialga's time to doing it right, giving her everything she wants until she's a shaking, trembling mess in his arms-  

All at once Laventon feels a familiar heat in his gut and tightness in his pants, and what little sense he has left breaks through the haze, his face burning as he realizes his body is well ahead of him on this one. Embarrassed panic quickly starts to overtake his mind as he prays to any god that's listening that she won't notice. Sure, it is only natural that he would find all of this incredibly arousing, but that's not what this is supposed to be about. It's about helping her gain experience, not his own idiotic lust, and he loathes the idea of her discovering how little control he has over himself and becoming uncomfortable—or offended—because of it. 

So he pulls away, faster than he probably should, but still slow enough that he can play it off as natural. Regardless she chases after him, her eyes only opening when that proves unsuccessful, and heavens, the look on her face—not offended or uncomfortable but confused, disappointed—nearly makes him cave and pull her back in. 

"Do you understand n-now?" he asks instead, thankful his breathlessness hides how nervous he is. 

Cyllene looks lost, her eyes clouded as they search his, and it takes her a long moment to process that this encounter is ending and actually answer his question. 

"This was...enlightening," she says, her flush darkening as she becomes more and more aware of how intense the two of them let things get. "I have much to consider..." 

It isn't a yes, but somehow makes him feel as if he's done a better job. “Well, I’m glad I could...be of service,” he replies clumsily, unsure of what else to say.

Her blush only grows more intense, and rather than respond she glances away and slowly loosens her hold on his vest. 

Laventon decides to keep quiet as best he can, as he’d rather not make things any more awkward than they already are, and instead he steps back and offers his hand to help her hop down from her desk. She takes it with a polite nod, and his heart skips a beat at the feel of her hand in his, the gentle pressure of her weight against him as she slides to the ground intimate in its own way. When she’s standing she turns her focus to her outfit and hair, hastily fixing both until she looks mostly presentable. He doesn’t bother putting his hat back on, as he feels more than warm enough without it, and simply shoves it into the pocket of his coat. 

Besides, the cool night air should help with his...situation. Speaking of which, he begins to panic anew, and in a rush to maintain some semblance of dignity, he hastily shrugs his labcoat off entirely, draping it over his arm and holding it close so the bulk of it hides his lower body from view. 

Cyllene gives him an odd look, but before she can put the pieces together he jumps in, “I suppose I should leave you to your night.” 

“Yes...and I should leave you to yours,” she replies slowly. “Thank you for humoring me, Professor. I appreciate your assistance, and your patience.” 

“It was my pl- or, u-um, I’m glad to help, truly.” 

“I also would appreciate your discretion regarding this matter.” 

“Of course! That goes without saying.” 

“Good.” 

Silence falls between them, and while Laventon knows he needs to leave, his feet refuse to obey him, followed closely by his mind, now once again caught up in his new-found feelings regarding Cyllene, namely how beautiful she is and how much he desperately wishes he could stay in her company a bit longer. Not even for lustful reasons--though that desire certainly hasn’t let go of it’s hold on him--no, he finds himself wondering what it would be like if they were a couple, if he was here not for...whatever this all was, but so that he could escort her home, or perhaps to their home. He’s not sure he could ever be so lucky, but the thought fills him with longing all the same. 

“Professor?” Cyllene asks, snapping him back to reality. 

“Yes! Sorry, I uh- lost my train of thought there for a moment,” he replies quickly, shoving away his useless fantasies. “Well, do take care on your way home tonight, Captain.” 

“I shall, and you as well.” 

“Certainly. Goodnight then, Captain.” 

“Goodnight, Professor.” 

He gives something between a respectful nod and a half-bow before making a combee-line for his office door, already planning to clean up and head home as fast as humanly possible, but he freezes in place when Cyllene calls out, “Professor, wait...” 

Laventon turns to face her, grasping onto the last of his composure as best he can. “Yes?” 

She takes a moment before responding, her eyes drifting to the wall behind his head, like she can’t quite bring herself to look directly at him. “If, in the future, I should...wish to gain further experience in this area, would it be alright if I once again asked for your assistance?” 

He nearly faints right there, only barely stopping himself from falling over or making a complete fool of himself by offering to immediately provide any assistance she might desire—either here or perhaps somewhere more private. 

“Of course,” he replies honestly, praying he sounds coherent, or at least not like the lustful fool he apparently is deep down. “I would be happy to help.” 

“Thank you,” she nods, finally glancing back at him. “Well then, goodnight...for now.” 

Laventon hangs on her last two words and all they imply like a lifeline. “Goodnight.” 

Cyllene nods once more before turning back to her desk, her hands nimbly gathering the last of her paperwork, and he leaves her to it, quickly ducking into his own office to do the same. 

He lets out a breath once he’s within the safety of his personal space and tosses his coat and hat over onto his kotatsu, no longer needing the protection they offer, but as he starts to close the door something stops him. He isn’t sure what, exactly, his mind is far too muddled to make sense of what he’s feeling anymore, but it leaves him standing there all the same, his shaking hand lingering on the doorknob. Perhaps it’s habit—after all, he tends to leave it open during the day—or perhaps there’s a finality to it that he doesn’t want to evoke, or...or maybe he simply doesn’t want to be parted from Cyllene just yet, even if only by a single door. 

He shakes his head, dismissing his racing thoughts and prying his hand off the knob, leaving the door cracked ever so slightly. 

[He then heads home and like Idk something something a few days pass and then Cyllene drags Laventon into a closet and makes out with him because she gets it now or something???? I genuinely cannot remember where I was going with the ending.]

[awlumii]

# — pairing: (barista)spidey!kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, spider-man (kazuha), barista!kazuha (briefly), beidou, chongyun, barbara, shinobu (mentioned)

# — warnings: mentions of minor character death

# — summary: happy birthday, dear spider-man~ 🎶

# — tags: fluff, brief angst, hurt/comfort(-ish), yes there's kisses involved who do you think i am

# — notes: here it is! a birthday fic for my special boy on his special day 🥺 i took a couple hours out of yesterday to churn this one out, and i want to thank @the-travelling-witch @catcze @kazeyu and @kazu-sun for reading this ahead of time to both give me advice and boost my confidence! i love you guys vvv much and i couldn't have posted this without your help 💕 like always, reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

wanna join the tag list?

✦ — 🕷 + 🍁 — ✦

Silence is a privilege. You learned this very early on. To be silent, to bask in the stillness of a room, is a privilege not often awarded to people like you. You’re an energizer; a people chaser. You seek chaos and the wreckage that comes with it all so you can find something to fix within it. People flee from crime scenes and accidents, but you invite them. Of course you have to be careful when taking pride in a fact like that -- it’s not like you want people to get hurt, but how else would you be able to pursue your passion?

From the time you were young, you sought to help others in their greatest times of need. You were the first to help an injured kid to their parents when they got hurt on the playground and the first to dial the paramedics during a freak accident; you were the first to drop some sneaky medical facts on your teachers in your high school biology courses and the first to volunteer to dissect something for your lab courses. “The Good Samaritan”, your peers called you. “Our school’s very own guardian angel.” So it came as a surprise to no one that you got a full ride scholarship to the best university in the city with acceptance into their competitive medical program. You dove headfirst into your studies immediately after your high school graduation in hopes of getting ahead of the program when orientation started.

It’s hard for you to say anything bad about the whole thing, really. But if you had to conjure up a single complaint, it’s that your field is so noisy. The beeping of the pagers, the crackle of overhead intercoms, the rushed medical jargon falling from fellow doctor’s lips like waterfalls, the groans and cries of agonized patients and distressed families. There’s no time for peace. You regret it at times -- being as wound up as you are 24/7 is bound to take a toll on your health one day -- but the pros outweigh the cons most of the time. Besides, you tell yourself, you’re not a resident just yet; you can have peace and quiet at home at the end of the day, right? Right.

As of late, however, you’ve been wrong. Peace and quiet is nothing but a dream to you now and it’s all thanks to the city’s “beloved” vigilante.

Standing at the taller end of five feet (he’ll never give you an exact number), Spider-Man has become the sole reason why you can only hope and pray to the powers that be for a night of pure silence. He doesn’t swing by every night (thank the stars), but he’s in your apartment, lying half-dead on your carpet on most days which is enough to make you want to start pulling out your hair. You’d think that a man with enough flesh wounds to kill a normal person twice over would be silent as he gets treated, but no, he somehow manages to weave bizarre topics out of thin air whenever he’s with you. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly smart, smarter than he likes to let on, and snarky, too. Sometimes, you want to take off the mask that he wears, ball it up, and shove it in his mouth.

..Oh, but who are you kidding? Annoying as he might be, you’ve got a thing for the man, even if you don’t know who he is. He’ll drop by during the daytime whenever he sees you alone and sometimes, he’ll even give you things that he picked up during his little patrols -- plushies from outside vendors, wildflowers from the park… Once, he gave you a freshly clipped rose from a florist that was doing handouts not too far from where you were seated. The truth is that you like him and sometimes, you wonder if he likes you, too. It’d be complicated thanks to your existing crush on the cute barista of the cafe that you frequent, but it’d be a nice change of pace.

(Ah, love. Yet another noisy thing that you’re not quite sure you want to actually let into your life.)

Speaking of a change of pace, tonight is a quiet one. You’re not quite sure if that’s a good thing yet. You’ve heard sirens in various spots around your apartment, but each one died down within twenty minutes. You took that as a sign that Spider-Man’s been swinging here and there, which means that he’s bound to drop by sometime soon. So, rather than let your guard down, you decided to stand on your balcony with a comfy sweater pulled over your head. The night air is crisp and cool, albeit a bit stuffy from all the cars zipping about. When you exhale, you can see your breath coming out in puffs of white smoke. It’s nice -- the chill keeps you alert.

You let your mind wander while you wait for your patient to arrive. Embarrassingly enough, the first thing your thoughts drift to is the barista that you saw this morning. Kazuha’s always so upbeat during the day, even more so when he sees you (a fact that does very little to quell the excited thrumming in your veins whenever you see his face). He looked a little more tired today than he does normally -- when asked if he was okay, he merely told you not to worry too much about him. You’d agreed so as to not overwhelm him, but that didn’t stop you from stealing glances the entire time you were there. He caught you at some point and gave you a wink -- just thinking about it sends your stomach aflutter. It would be terrible if something was wrong with him, you think. Would you be able to help him?

You don’t get to think about it much more as a figure sailing through the air catches your eye. Spider-Man is so easy to spot, even in the darkness above the streetlights. You tense, somewhat hoping he doesn’t spot you. If he doesn’t, you could maybe get around to fantasizing about Kazuha a little more. Unfortunately for you and your potential fantasies, he does; Spider-Man changes course right before your eyes and lands on your balcony railing. He doesn’t lose balance once, instead remaining in a steady crouching position with ease. He really is something to behold.

You stretch languidly, relishing in the way your bones pop. “Alright,” you say as you turn towards your balcony door, “where’s it hurt this time?”

To your surprise and immediate concern, Spider-Man doesn’t speak right away. He adjusts himself so that he’s sitting on your railing instead, with one leg pulled up to his chest and the other dangling towards the floor. “No injuries tonight, doc’.” He rests his cheek on his knee and turns his head to face you. “I just wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

If it were a few months prior, you would’ve said no. Now, the very thought of turning him away causes needles to press at your chest. You close your balcony door and head back over, resting your arms on the railing beside him. “Of course.”

Spider-Man must hear something in your voice that you don’t, because he shakes his head slightly. “You can say no, lovebug. I don’t want to bother you.”

“If you were bothering me, I would’ve told you to leave.” You frown at him. There’s negativity rolling off of him in waves. That’s not like him at all. “Are you okay?”

“I…” He reaches for the back of his neck before pausing. He lets his arm drop. Was he about to--? “I don’t know.”

You nudge him gently with your shoulder. Go on, you say silently. What’s up?

Spider-Man picks up on your invitation and sighs. “Do you… like your birthday, by any chance?”

“Me?” You tilt your head curiously. “I guess so. Why?”

“I guess I’m really not normal.” He turns his head, looking past you and into your apartment. “I don’t like mine at all.”

You connect the dots rather quickly. You’d feign excitement, but clearly, doing so would do nothing. If anything, it might make things awkward. “Is… today your birthday, Spider-Man?” When he nods, you make a small humming noise. “Would me saying ‘happy birthday’ cheer you up, or..?”

“If it’s you,” he says, his voice soft, “then yes, probably.” You don’t say it right away. You hesitate because of his tone, but he takes the opportunity to keep speaking. “I lost someone important to me a few years ago today.” He inhales sharply. “And a few more in the years prior. Today’s more of a day of mourning than anything else.”

Your heart shatters. You wonder if he knows how small he sounds. “I--”

“They say you shouldn’t spend your birthday alone,” he continues, “so I decided to stop by. You’re all I have left, lovebug.” You can hear the fake smile in his voice when he speaks again. “You’re going to have a hard time getting me off your back. Sorry.”

You don’t know what to say. The silence lingers and all that can be heard is the sound of cars rolling by on the street below. A car horn blares every so often at the light nearby, but you still remain quiet.

Is that why he always comes back? Because really and truly, he has no one else in his life? You can’t say the same for yourself -- you have Kazuha to keep your heart and mind occupied during your down time; you have Beidou, Hu Tao, and Chongyun to keep you busy at school; you have Barbara and Shinobu to keep you on your toes at work. You have friends, people to fall back on. But Spider-Man… doesn’t. And it’s not like you can just introduce him to your friends, either.

To think that you’ve been complaining about him when all he’s been doing is spending time with the only person who gives him the proper time of day.

The guilt that seizes you makes you hiss softly. What do you do now? You’ve had tender and serious moments with Spider-Man before, but this is too different. Do you apologize for being an asshole? What good would that even do? Do you make a gift for him on the spot? No; that might make him feel worse…

“I’m grateful for you.” Spider-Man’s voice cuts your thoughts short. “I really am. I’m sorry for dragging you into my mess. I hope you can forgive me.”

“If I… didn’t want to be involved,” you manage, “I would have told you to stay away a long time ago. Don’t apologize; I want to be by your side.”

Again, you hear a sharp intake of breath. “That’s--”

“Dangerous? Stupid? Yeah, I’m aware. But since I’ve never told you this out loud before, you’re my friend, Spider-Man.” You rest a hand on top of his without looking him in the eye. “Whether you knew that or not, we’re friends.” It feels weird to say, but you mean every word. Of course, friends don’t think about unmasking each other and kissing them every once in a while, but you’re not going to dwell on that. Your face starts to burn. “I wouldn’t want to be rid of you at all.” You say honestly.

Spider-Man moves his hand so that he’s holding yours. “...I appreciate it.” He says after a brief pause.

And once again, there is silence. It’s one that you can bask in, you find, especially when Spider-Man’s grip on your hand tightens. His presence is comforting, and only now do you realize that he thinks the same of you. The city marches on below your balcony, everyone encased in the same chilly autumn breeze that causes rigid goosebumps to rise on your skin. It’s nice, this silence. Is this the stillness that you’ve been missing out on because of Spider-Man? What are the odds that you’d finally be able to enjoy it with him?

You shudder and sneeze suddenly, shocking the both of you. Spider-Man jolts but eases into a laugh. “Are you cold?” He asks.

You sniff and tug the hood of your sweater up over your head. “No,” you grumble. “You’re cold. I’m just peachy.”

Spider-Man hops down and leads you inside, his fingers still intertwined with yours. “You’re a horrible liar,” he jokes. Once you’re inside, he stands in the threshold and laughs again. “You’re shaking.”

“Why couldn’t your birthday be during the summer or something?” You whine and make yourself small in your sweater. “It’s fucking cold outside.”

“What can I say, I like the fall more.”

“Whatever.” You ball your hands into fists inside your sweater pockets. “You’re not coming inside?”

Spider-Man shakes his head. “Something could still happen. I’m going to head back out.”

An idea comes to mind. It’s a stupid idea, a really, really, really stupid idea, but it's an idea nonetheless. You don't have much in the way of material goods to give him -- it'd be a cold day in hell before you coughed up one of your expensive medical supplies (as if he had any use for those with his speedy healing) -- and despite knowing him for as long as you have, he has yet to give any real hints as to what it is he likes. When you think about it, you realize that Spider-Man's been super careful as to not give you any kind of clues as to what kind of person he is without the mask. All of his likes and dislikes are a complete mystery to you, unfortunately.

Well, almost all of them. He's told you time and time again that he likes this one thing — one person.

“B-Before you do,” you stammer, “what’re your thoughts on birthday gifts?”

You can practically feel the confused look he gives you. “Why?”

Rather than let the embarrassment consume you, you let your body move on its own accord. You walk closer to him and place your hands on either side of his face. “Stay still.” You whisper. Without waiting for his question, you lean forward and place a kiss on his lips right over his mask. You can feel them just beneath the cloth and hear the noise of surprise that he makes, but you don’t let it stop you. You stay there for just a moment longer before pulling away. Your face heats up to an impossible degree and you keep your head turned away to avoid further humiliation. Spider-Man is completely quiet, likely with shock, and it makes you want to bury your head in a hole. He's told you before how much he likes you; even if he was joking, he's said it too many times for you to consider it as just a joke. A kiss should suffice as a gift, right? “Happy birthday," you mutter. “Now go--”

Before you finish speaking, a gloved hand comes over your eyes. You start to question what the hell he’s doing, but a pair of uncovered lips cover your own, silencing your protests. You melt into the kiss after a brief moment of shock and Spider-Man pulls you in closer with his free hand. Closer, closer, and closer still. He kisses you like you're something gentle, fragile, prone to break at any moment. And yet he tilts his head and nips at your bottom lip, kissing you deeply, like you mean something to him.

Friends don't kiss like this.

You can’t think. You can’t move. It’s just you and your masked vigilante and the sound of sirens outside.

The sound is what causes Spider-Man to pull away after a while. He doesn’t uncover your eyes right away and you hear fabric moving -- likely him fixing his mask. When he moves his hand, your vision feels hazy and your throat tight. You stand there in limbo, the two of you just staring at each other. You tug on the strings of your hoodie gently. “You should, um… you should get going.”

You wonder how he’s looking at you right now. Spider-Man clears his throat. “I… Yeah. You’re right.” He starts to reach for you, but he drops his hand and balls it into a fist by his side. “Will I… see you tomorrow?”

It’s a hesitant question -- a request, if not anything else. Am I allowed to see you tomorrow? You nod without hesitation. Who are you to refuse him? “Yeah.”

Spider-Man’s shoulders drop with relief. “Okay. Then…” He walks backwards onto your balcony and raises two fingers in his usual salute. “...Thank you for the birthday gift.” And with a push backwards, he tumbles off of your balcony and zips into the biting autumn night, leaving you in your living room.

You walk forward and close the door to your balcony. You turn your eyes to the clock on the wall. 12:00 AM, it reads. It’s October 30th. Your kiss was the last and only gift he'd received yesterday.

✦ happy happy happy birthday, kazuha.. i hope he enjoys his day with his new family 🥺💕💗

✦ i'll make an origins post about spidey!kazuha someday, hehe

[sweetflanfiction]

Second Chances - Part 8

Universe: Read Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur x reader

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about 1899 is from google, so inacuracies will be plenty. The reader is on the older side, and identifies as a female. Gif by the talented @sweeetestcurse. There's a little funny tidbit at the end of the chapter :D

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

• ··········· • ············ •

His eyes looked up and he felt his muscles tense. That single word had such an impact on him that he didn't even know he was holding his breath until Albert spoke again.

"Cattle convoy." The older man said, but Arthur didn't blink. "Some affluent cattle farmer needs his cattle delivered by train to his ranch north of here. Everston agreed to a substantial fee for it. He wants us to help him."

Arthur slowly breathed, hoping it would remain unnoticed by the two other people in the room. Hell, even he wasn't aware he was holding his breath.

"Who's goin'?" You asked, moving the bucket of water you had been using for the dishes.

"Well, Everston obviously, his eldest, myself, Brant…"

"Can I come?" You asked abruptly and Albert laughed.

"You know the answer is no."

"Fine. No hurt in asking." Your eyes landed on the silent Arthur and she squished her eyes, one side of her mouth curled up. "Take him then."

"Hum…could actually be a good idea. What do you say Mr. Callahan?"

Arthur had only been on the other side of the cattle transport. The side that steals it and re-sells it, with the probability of killing the participants. To be honest, knowing the ins and outs of the outlaws may be of use to them. He nodded silently. 

"You alright there?" You asked. Your eyebrows furrowed deep in her face, concern written in them.

"Huh…" He cleared his throat. "Yes, yes! Sorry, I've had some past experiences with that sort of…job."

"Bad ones?" The rough farmer asked.

"Both, I guess."

"It'll be fine Mr. Callahan. We do this often, it's income. It's the first time we work with this feller, but we have some that we tipically work. We just go to town, get them off the train, ride them to their owners and come back."

"No outlaws?" Curiosity had the better of him but, to his surprise, Albert chuckled.

"That's what's worrying you? That you'll get shot?"

"More like if I have to shoot someone…"

The older man's face turned serious for a moment and Arthur thought he'd been found. 

"The law around these parts generally accepts one or two dead outlaws. Especially if they have bounties on 'em. We try not to let it get to that extent, but if it's between them and us, we try to make it all about us."

The small kitchen was silent for a while, the gravity of the topic not escaping anyone. The other two people might have been more reserved in their opinions about killing anyone, but Arthur had done it more times than he could count. And he did it well. Too well sometimes.

"You know how to use a rifle don't you?" Albert asked. His eyebrows raised and a grin on his lips. He knew the answer to that.

"If he doesn't, he could just tackle the bandits to the ground. The man is taller than a lighthouse, probably tougher than a tree trunk." You joked and Arthur felt his cheeks turn red.

"Well, say what's on your mind why don't you?" The older rancher chastised, getting up from his seat on the table and walking out, both Arthur and his daughter following him.

"What? Am I lying?" She turned to Arthur and placed two hands on his upper arm, wrapping them around his muscles, making him stop dead in his tracks. "Look at this!"

"Stop manhandling the help, dear. You're making the man uncomfortable."

You looked up at Arthur. In a nonchalant manner, his eyes slowly moved from your hands to your face. He wasn't uncomfortable, quite the opposite. It felt like a comfortable joke between friends. He tried to stop himself from tensing his muscles under his shirt to see if you would react. However, your face showed you had realized you may have stepped on a line, your smile fading and your hands moving from his arm.

"I'm sorry Mr. Callahan."

It took him a moment to reply, clearing his throat and nodding his head at her and smiling casually.

"No need to be sorry Miss Graham."

She mimicked his smile and patted him on the shoulder, following her father to a room he hadn't been in before. It was just at the bottom of the stairs but he almost never saw it open.

"Come on Mr. Callahan. Let's meet the rest of the land." The older gentleman half shouted from inside what seemed to be his office.

Arthur walked into a sunny room furnished with a couch, a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf filled with books and knick knacks, a desk and a chair. Much like the rest of the house the room was small and cramped, but wasn't uncomfortable. It was cozy and lived in.

You sat on the couch and grabbed a guitar that had been leaning against the wall. You started to strum it as Mr. Graham grabbed a framed map from the wall and placed it on top of his desk.

"Now, this is Captain's Corner." He pointed to the map.

A loose diamond shape was drawn on yellowed paper and divided into five parts: four around the shape and one smaller. The faded names were neatly written on the paper. Some he could make out, others not so much.

The upper part of the diamond seemed to have a small river or trail of water around it. Beyond that some trees were drawn and another dotted line appeared. On the lower part there were some trails with arrows pointing to various locations.

"Now here." He pointed to the top left part of the diamond. " That's us. We have horses, four sheep, and two cows..."

"And the chickens. Don't forget the chickens." You reminded him and Albert nodded.

"And some chickens. We sell sheep's wool, and horses. We've got some crops that we use for whatever we can. Right now we have wheat growing, but that may change. As long as it's hardy it probably grows." 

"We're gonna try potatoes after and maybe have some beehives." You added from behind Arthur still plucking random notes from the guitar.

"Below us is Brant's. Eleanor and Williamson. They have corn crops and Eleanor has a herb greenhouse. They live alone, no kids unfortunately. Mighty fine people. If you ever feel under the weather, go to him. He'll fix you up in no time... You're living proof of that."

He moved his hand to the lower right part of the diamond.

"The Everstons. Bernard and Josie, and about 200 kids…"

"It's just 5." You interrupted again.

"And their 5 kids. Lovely family, loud and warm. You'll meet them soon. He's the cattle owner of the bunch, has more cows than brains sometimes, but he's an excellent man and I trust him to make wise judgements. And here, next to us, we have Mr. Thomson. Tobacco leaves and foul humor, that's what he got." Albert's tone shifted to a less friendly tone as he talked about his neighbor. "He drinks and takes care of the crops. If at all possible don't cross the lines to his propriety. He's as rancorous and he is a good shot."

"Amen. My leg still twitches every time I get near that fence." He could hear the venom in your voice, which was an unfamiliar sound to him.

"And in the middle we have Miss Beatrice Renoir. Widow, her husband came from France, died and she stayed here. She's trying to plant sugar cane and it's succeeded up to now, but we still have to wait and see."

"How about this?" Arthur pointed to the woods above, which have a dashed line running through them.

"Native folk have settled there." Albert said, watching Arthur closely.

"They trouble?" He asked.

"No. Quite the opposite. We all try to help each other."

"Alright then." Arthur stood straight and looked at the older man. “Can I ask a question? Without meaning any offense?”

“Of course.” The rancher straightened up.

“Why is it called Captain’s Corner? It’s clearly not a corner and…” 

“Most of us were War veterans." He laughed. “And some drunk in town decided that we were all captains and that we had taken this corner of the land so…Captain’s Corner…”

Arthur nodded. He felt nervous about this. It was the first honest to God job he had since he could remember.

"You understand everything?" Albert asked, placing the map on the wall again.

Arthur nodded, taking a deep breath.

"When do we leave?"

• ··········· • ············ •

Map of the ranch:

• ··········· • ············ •

@photo1030 :: @sylum :: @marislittlereadingcorner :: @rratman :: @clevergirl74 :: @aureolinb

[ra-scheln]

Writing Interview Tag Game

The lovely @kimberbohwrites tagged me – thank you so much!

When did you start writing?

I don’t remember a time before stories. Partially it might have been due to my environment, that I had to escape somehow – even if I could only retreat into my own mind and the worlds I could make up there. They weren’t really finished narratives, I was mostly into making up worlds that my friends would add characters to, and we would draw comics around the stories that developed from that .

Although that stopped when I was around fifteen or sixteen. The abuse at home kept escalating with my growing independence, and I couldn’t maintain the connection to myself necessary for true creativity and the willful ignorance regarding what was happening to me I had developed to protect myself. There is no writing or other piece of art from my time, because I just stopped being able to do it.

Stories I need to live, said ignorance I needed to survive, so it had to take precedence.

Ten years later or so, I’ve been reclaiming my own perception of events with, among other things, half a decade of therapy now. I can touch my own ideas again without them slipping through my hands.

BG3 is it’s own special joy here – it’s the first fandom I’ve really written for, recently, and that’s mostly thanks to the writer friends I’ve found through it (my pedipalps <3).

Are there different themes or genres that you enjoy reading than what you write?

Outside of fanfic, yes! I read a lot of classic stuff – Thomas Mann, Michail Bulgakow, Oscar Wilde are the last few authors I read in that department. Fiction-wise, I enjoy things that explore the more ambiguous sides of human emotion, or generally darker and more serious stuff – Das Parfüm by Patrick Süskind (The perfume) for example, although that’s something I also write about. I’d also count Accabadora by Michaela Murgia amongst that, though that’s also a historically inspired and socio-critical. Tbh I mostly read nonfiction though, Roberto Saviano’s works on the Ndragheta and other organised crime are currently back on my mind.

In fanfic, I’m pretty stuck in my tastes as far as themes go, but there are some characters that don’t inspire me to write, but that I like reading about – Rolan for example (though I might have something cooking for him), or Halsin.

Can you tell me about your writing space?

I often lug my laptop to the university library or onto my balcony, but I’ve also recently treated myself to new desk equipment – so I’ve started using it more, now that I have a second monitor, a nice mechanical keyboard and a chair that doesn’t kill my back.

One thing about my writing space though – it has to be spotless. I can’t deal with crumbs on my table or unfolded laundry lying around.

This all goes for writing itself. My ideas I mostly write down by hand in my notebook, wherever I am in that moment.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

I don’t. I either have something to say and then I sit down and say it, or I don’t. Your mind also needs to lie fallow every now and then.

If the words aren’t flowing when the ideas themselves are there, it’s usually because something else is taking up my attention. Be it any kind of mess (as I said…) or something I’m avoiding in other areas of my life, that has to be taken care of first.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing?

Some are fairly common in fanfic – trauma, the aftermath of sexual abuse etc. I think some of my other patterns are characters that are neither good nor bad, the need to accept yourself and what you’ve done even if others may not forgive you, and love that is built, not found.

What is your reason for writing?

The words have to go somewhere, or I start to get restless.

In seriousness, I also think that stories are a chance to explore the things that often don’t have room in daily life. Especially fiction that doesn’t have to perform well, like fanfics, can leave the kind of room for the regular human messiness to breathe.

Is there any kind of specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I haven’t published a lot yet and I haven’t received that many comments yet; So it’s hard to say. But so far I can say that whenever I can feel that my writing touched someone and they take the time to share that with me it stays with me for a long time, and keeps me motivated to keep sharing my stuff.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I haven’t thought about that yet much, and the idea of someone developing a parasocial relationship makes me want to crawl out of my skin, but uh… I think I’d like my writing to feel safe to people? Not necessarily in the sense that they won’t encounter difficult themes and injustices in it, but that the darker themes I explore are handled in an informed and tasteful way.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

I think my compassion with my characters and their actions. Nuance, in general, seems to be my thing as well – I don’t do black and white.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I’m a bit frustrated that my fictional writing is all in English, currently. It’s neither my first nor my fourth language, and it’s not my favourite language to read in either.

Aside from that… I’m growing fond of my own style, now that I’ve found my voice, sort of. My sense of humour is starting to shine through, which is also nice!

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

So far, what I want to write and say takes precedence. I do, of course, think about the “how” of writing – how style and vocabulary can help me get my ideas across. Who knows, I could try taking requests, that might be fun.

Tagging: @dutifullylazybread @blackjackkent @invinciblerodent @faerielli and @lewdisescariot

EDIT: AND @forget-me-maybe!!! As well als @cactusmisslittle

[ohanny]

my thoughts while watching the first episode of cutie pie 2:

is it just me or is max looking extra dilfy?

in comparison zee is looking extra baby? i need this man to explain his beauty routine because he has the skin of a newborn

"oh for fucks sake just say yes! then again, you can't or this show would have been 5 minutes long."

lian is a stalker, what else is new chapter 1

kon diao, my slutty lil gremlin, you are now competitively kicking people's asses? where is the footage? we were robbed

a man: *exists in kuea's vicinity* lian: *has a stroke*

nuer has transformed into a full on bro who understands the bro-code. i am so proud.

WHAT IS THIS SHIRT

seriously, who is this flirty hoe with the farrah fawcett blow out and why is he lowkey cute

and why is this boss giving us every single creepy 30 something man who hangs out and parties with high schoolers. there is one in every town.

syn my baby! no! i do not accept any drama between these two. nuer loves you the most. he is just busy being a good bro right now.

oh farrah fawcett is getting bold, ew.

yes, kuea drag his ass. how do you have the audacity to flirt with me when i am a very thoroughly pleased taken man

somewhere (probably in a car with binoculars) lian is experiencing a wave of smugness for no particular reason

"i am not that drunk, i can go by myself" - why do these feel like the famous last words in a bl?

lian beng a stalker, what else is new chapter 2

HE HAS A HIA LIAN SHRINE

lian: why are the plushies kissing kuea: definitely not because i have a very niche furry kink

i do understand lian's hand thing 100%

DID HE JUST MEOW

lian: i am a responsible adult kuea: ... still wanna fuck tho?

KON DIAO YOU LIL GAY BABY WITH YOUR LIL GAY SWEATERS

yi must have some sort of a denial kink because at this point he is emotionally and physically edging himself for funsies

is the kitty hungover, awww

lian is a stalker what else is new chapter 3

farrah fawcett sipping his tea, refusing to touch romantic rival congee

SHOW PERTH'S FACE YOU COWARDS

... has lian just been sitting in the lobby the whole day?!?! doesn't he have a job?

lian: i hope yi didn't scold you kon diao thinking about car sex: ah yes

yi is tackling life tits first and i appreciate it.

syn asking the real questions at the temple, turning a "why is he not texting me" into a philosophical monologue on eternal suffering

farrah fawcett: hey boy nuer: bro (derogatory) kuea: i got this nuer: bro (affectionate) *proceeds to bro at the minimum distance*

WHAT IS MY FOEI WEARING

the gays were too stunned to speak

"i am not mad at you" says syn, mad-ly.

JUST KISS

WHAT IN THE ELTON JOHN IS THIS

seriously. no one will ever beat nuer in the brolympics. you could not have paid me to do this.

lian about to assert his dominance like any mature, secure adult on this planet.

what do you mean you didn't notice him? kuea, sweetie, maybe visit an optometrist because how did you not spot lian's sparkly, feathered ass in the sea of like eight people

farrah fawcett is saaaaaltyyyy

yi deserves all the car sex for suffering through these shenanigans

lian, listing life events while gently twirling the engagement ring: it's time. kuea: what could you possibly be talking about o.o

the saga of kuea's communication and commitment issues continues. just taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalk *suddenly remembers why i almost rage quit this show in the first place*

oh thank fuck

but he's definitely hiding something korea related and i know he won't say anything until it will be a PROBLEM

wait wait wait THEY WILL ALREADY TALK IN THE NEXT EPISODE. wow our boy is moving fast for the cutie pie universe

[alexdelray1]

Miguel O'hara x Pregnant Reader.

-Are you Spider-Woman from Earth 779?- some guy in a super hero costume asked me. Or a cosplay.

-And do I look like her?- I asked. I was lying on my stomach on a pile of rubble.

-Did you take down that unearthly figure that tried to kill me and the rest of New York? - I added, too tired to get up.

-Yes. I'm surprised you couldn't do it yourself. - he said and put his hands on his hips.

-Miguel, the point is that- a hologram of a woman finished.

-You know, fighting bandits is not that easy during pregnancy.- I said, getting up. My belly was clearly visible becouse of costume that covered my entire body.

-Oh. Oh. I didn't expect this.- he said, surprised.

-Are you a new hero? You're a bit too muscular to be new. - I commented, looking at his muscles.

-No. I'm from another universe. My name is Miguel O'hara and I am Spider-Man from Earth 2099. Just a question. Shouldn't you be on maternity leave? - he introduced himself and asked.

-I don't have a replacement and it's only been 4 months. And I guess you know that my name is Reader Bush (change your surname if you want).

-So what are you doing in my universe anyway? Are you lost or something? - I asked him and he sighed.

-No. I save universes from anomalies, he explained.

-Interesting. Was that an anomaly?- I asked, arching my back.

-Yes. For now, you are not ready for such tasks due to your... condition. So it's normal that you didn't make it. - he said.

-Pregnancy. Jesus Christ, it's not a bad word. Why are you so afraid of it? - I asked him. It was obvious that this irritated him.

-I'm not afraid. I just wanted to say that your condi-- he didn't finish because of me.

-Pregnancy.- I corrected him.

-So be it. Pregnancy. I have a proposition for you that you can think about for 4 months. - he said and quickly glanced at my belly.

-Give me 4 minutes.- I said and he sighed.

-You can become a member of the Spider-people society and fight anomalies with us. You can work part-time, but it all depends on you.- he explained.

-Why not.- I said.

-Really?- he asked with surprise.

-As if I don't have a husband, parents or anyone who would think my excuses were strange. And this baby will live here for another 4 months. I will work part-time.- I said.

-Good, I guess you want to see what our headquarters looks like now. Hmm I think we'll need your help soon. - he said and started doing something on his watch.

-Yes. I would like to see HQ. As you can see, you need me in your squad. - I fixed my hair (sorry if you're bald). He opened a portal and turned to me.

-Ready?- he asked me.

-Let's go!- I said and ran into the portal.

SORRY IT'S SO SHORT, BUT HERE WE START A NEW CHAPTER. STARTING TODAY ACCEPTING ORDERS. YOU CAN HERE AND ANYTHING YOU WANT. I ALSO HAVE AN ACCOUNT ON wattpad AND MY NAME IS MotherMotherIsee. I WRITE THIS BOOK IN POLISH THERE AND THERE ARE A LITTLE CHANGED ISSUES.

[heaven-s-black-box]

The Edgeworths-Prosecutors office

Return to File

Recovery date: July 13th, 2020

Description:  Edgeworth and his kids

Notes: An entry from my 2020 research project into the universe of Ace Attorney. You can find the next entry here.

Word count: 563

Back to directory

“Mr. Edgeworth!” Kay screamed as she tackled him in a hug.

“Oof! It is good to see you again Kay. How have you been?” He smiled, awkwardly returning the hug.

“Good! Good! Is Sebby here? I haven’t seen him in forever!” Kay let him go and began scanning the room.

“Prosecutor Debeste is currently in the middle of a trial, however you can stay at the prosecutor’s office until he returns. I have some people I think you would enjoy meeting.” He turned around and waved at her to follow him.

Kay had spent the last few months abroad, helping Franziska and interpol. With the recent end to an investigation, Franziska and her had returned to LA. Franziska would be leaving again in a few days, she only had to retrieve a few files, but Kay was planning on picking up an investigation here. She really did miss LA and it’s prosecutors.

“So, who am I meeting? Is it “that man”?” She asked, doing a terrible Edgeworth impression. He rolled his eyes.

“No. We’ve acquired two new prosecutors I’d like you to meet.” 

They climbed the rest of the stairs, with Kay telling him all about her time with Franziska. Apparently Franziska had been done with Kay’s antics after day two. So, she’d told Kay to just investigate on her own, that explained the call he’d gotten. Not long after the two had left, Franziska had called him to tell him he was insane, and nothing else.

“Now, they are a little strange to say the least,” Edgeworth said, as they approached an office. “I’ll introduce you to prosecutor Gavin first, he’s the more… calm of the two.” He muttered something else that she missed. “Prosecutor Gavin,” he said, as he pushed open the door. They were met with yelling so intense, she was surprised they hadn’t heard it outside.

“Herr Samurai while you have a point-”

“Gavin-dono your refusal is futi-”

“Oh my god! You’re Klavier Gavin!” Both men stopped yelling at each other and turned to the door.

Kay stood jaw dropped, pointing at Klavier, and Edgeworth just sighed. She ignored him and ran up to Klavier.

“I love your music! Can I get an autograph? Or better yet,” she fished around in her bag and pulled out a Gavineers CD, “Can you sign this?”

Klavier shook off his shock, and glared at Simon who had started snickering. He turned back to Kay and smiled, “Of course Fraulein.” Kay let out an almost deafening squeal. “And who am I signing it to?”

“Kay, Kay Faraday. I thought Sebby was lying when he said he worked with THE Klavier Gavin… I guess I owe him an apology,” she grumbled the last part. The two prosecutors were shocked when Edgeworth gave Kay a fond smile.

“Now,” he said, turning back to the two prosecutors, “What on earth were you two fighting about?”

“Gavin-dono and I were merely having a heated debate on whether Justice-dono would accept the proposal of a date with him,” Simon smirked, watching as Klavier’s face turned pink.

Edgeworth nodded, “Please keep these debates civil, or do not have them at all. But for the record, I’m sure Mr. Justice would absolutely accept the proposal of a date.” He smiled, before turning around to leave. “Do not cause too much chaos Kay, Prosecutor Debeste should be returning soon.”

“Yes sir!”

[thehumanexperience8b]

March 26th, 2024: I Am In Control

Hello! I am so sorry I haven’t been able to write to you these past couple days, I just got busy. Actually, I’m lying! (For the sake of this entry!!) I didn’t write because I just didn’t. The reason for why may vary, but in reality, I had complete control over my actions. Taking a break of course is okay, but I take full responsibility for my actions. 

Taking responsibility for your actions can be scary, or it can be freeing! The universe will throw things in your way, but if you want it, you can have it! Don’t keep telling yourself “but the circumstances…” because the circumstances aren’t in control, you are! 

I’m going to talk about a classic psychology experiment in American history called the Stanley Milgram experiment. To summarize, the patient/volunteer in the study is asked politely by a figure of authority (perceived scientist in experiment) to inflict pain on an unseen actor. They were told they needed to flip the switch to give the actor an electric shock if they got an answer wrong. The experiment showed that most people will do as they were told even if they didn’t want to hurt the man anymore. Milgram has stated that 65% of the people in the study administered the heaviest voltage of 450 volts and were assumed to have killed the man behind the screen. The volunteers believed that the scientist would take responsibility for hurting this man, when really, all actions are on the person flipping the switch. Who is actually flipping that switch? Why do you listen to that man and not the man in pain? I do think there’s some problems with this, as they weren’t just doing it for fun, they were slightly pressured. But we can gather that the man would not be getting shocks if it wasn’t for the person delivering them. 

I’ve seen a lot of videos in which there might be someone saying something like, for example, “I want to lose weight, but I can’t because…” but yes, you can! No it won’t be easy, but humans are made for the dirty work! If you want something bad enough, you will find a way to get there. Be a dreamer, it’s not a bad thing. Just start reasonably and set your sights high. There’s a saying that goes, aim for the sky and you’ll reach the ceiling. Aim for the ceiling, you’ll stay on the floor. Similarly, aim for the moon, and if you miss, you’ll fall upon the stars. But I’m rambling about dreams now!

Another opinion that has risen in popularity online (but has died off a little now) is that if you have mental illness you have an excuse for your actions. It reminds me of the story I tell often where this person trying to get involved with my friend group, felt it was appropriate to hit me in the back of the head, because she has D.I.D and “it was just my alter.” I do not forgive that person. One of my old friends I don’t talk to much anymore still defends this by saying it wasn’t her in control. Yes she was! Who is the one with the arms to hit me? I understand why that is being said but it’s simply not an excuse. I think of a simple thought, “if it won’t hold up in court, you are liable!” Not that the American judicial system is the most accurate… As a person who lives with bipolar disorder, if I have an emotional outburst at someone, kicking and screaming because I was the one who forgot to take my medicine; I cannot blame it on mental illness. I am not insane, I was aware of the potential risks of not taking that medicine. 

I believe it makes your life easier to accept your actions as your own, and not only that, other people will find you easier to get along with because you accept when you’re wrong (or right). It’s not fun to blame someone else for something, we need honesty and self-respect. My philosophy teacher believes if we were kinder, and more true to ourselves, humans would act more honestly and kindly to others. Is it your brain causing you to conform so you will feel accepted? And is your soul telling you that you shouldn’t? Remember you are in control of your life! Think about your influences. You live your own life, and we only have proof of one!

[cveenso]

Third.

After finishing that second journal post, I went to bed. After that, my mother woke me up for sahoor. I had my usual meal, but what followed was a complete nightmare. My stomach hurts, and I have trouble falling asleep. I wanted to puke up because I was feeling so terrible. I realized I had received a text from him at 6:35 a.m.

Yes. Him.

After seeing my message for quite some time, he responded to me. My desire to simply move on and act as though nothing had happened put me in denial. Here he is, responding after a few days yet remaining uninterested. Nevertheless, he did alert me on his manic episodes, so I don't blame him. The way he responded to me was the one thing that alarmed me, at least a bit. Suffice it to say, I communicated with him in a pretty impromptu manner prior to this episode. So at the beginning, I was able to confirm that our mutual interest in one another was genuine through our follow-up conversation. But that's not what I had in mind when I first started the chat, which is the issue. You would label this guy as a clear warning sign, and to make matters worse, I'm a fool for continuing to interact with him or even feeling the way I do about him. It was his way of reading me, he explained. I am aware of his lies. I know he doesn't give a damn that I know he lied outright. But I have a different connection with him for some reason. That's just weird and I just can't explain it.

As a quick aside, he is definitely not my type of man and not the kind of man I would pursue.

Yes, I am aware. Asking if he missed me or not was a foolish move on my part. He missed me, he said.

Now for the unvarnished truth. He didn't seem to miss me. I had a sneaking suspicion that he was scared I would carry on with my life. I removed all social media from my account to avoid any distractions, so please understand. Maybe he became aware of it? Or perhaps fear overcame him. Not sure. I understand; we haven't yet met. However, you must comprehend the level of love and care I invest in the connection we have.

So many questions linger in my head at that point of time. Is he the one for me? Is he not? What am I supposed to do now? Am I supposed to let him chase me?

When he replied, I was ecstatic. Even though it's been a few days. It's true that I desired him. I know in my heart that he is not a bad person, even if it's not because of the way he appears. He is making an effort to be. No one is purely good, and I refuse to accept that anyone is terrible. He is great, I can see that. He dreams. He has objectives. It's acceptable if he is lying to me. I'm rather certain he has motivations for lying to me, even if I knew he was lying. And no, I'm not offering justifications for his actions.

Considering everything, our conversation might be our last. God only knows how long this text will be visible or sent. Like you, I don't have much hope for this guy. I am certain, though, that my intentions were pure when I desired him. Together, we would practice our deen, as that is what I hoped for—or rather, what I sought for in a man—when I imagined him as my husband. For the sake of Allah, show each other love. I wanted to lead him down the correct path. From a woman, does that not sound appropriate?

Should I be with a man who is competent enough to guide me in the correct direction? The proper method? Who decides that, though? If the topic of discussion is universal, then the answers to these endless questions aren't correct or wrong, are they? It all depends, in my opinion, on the outcome.

Although I'm not sure what to do, I'll just do what feels right and let Allah SWT handle the rest. I've reached a very high degree of acceptance, and no matter what happens, I'll accept my fate and have faith in my Creator.

Yours Truly,

cveenso

[aaazithro2]

LAYERS

(Quite a long read)

The "sudden heartbreak" demanded a sense of contemplation and reflection of sorts.

I was perfectly fine just being single. I've been single for a few years until that fateful encounter when I met her. It didn't work out. Now I'm hurting in places. Why? Why was it, surprisingly, this painful?

(Look, judgements are fine and welcome. You can argue and say, "But it was only for such a brief time..." Well yes, but I still can't deny and discount the fact that it hurt. The point as to why, we'll get to that as you read along.)

For the past weeks, I've been analyzing my emotions and thoughts about it. Let's just say that, aside from finding her amazing, I got attached to the desired outcome of having a "happy life/relationship" with her. Everything with her felt great. We had chemistry, at least that's what I felt. She made me really happy. It was hard not to fall for her. Because, you know what, there were so many things she was ticking off the list of my "ideal person."

She became an oasis for me. I've been single for about 2 years when we met. Being single for years then suddenly getting affection may also explain why everything she did felt sweeter. Well but honestly, she's really sweet. That's one of the things I really like about her. (Damn, it's over but there's things I still like about her. Do you understand how much I really liked her? Ughhh...)

That's why there are layers of hurt. The happiness she brought was something I wanted to keep and nurture. I thought I'd finally get to have my person. I thought that maybe after all the waiting, my person was actually her all along.

But no, she wasn't my person. Her heart was locked somewhere else. She couldn't see me with sparkly eyes the way I did her. I didn't know what I truly meant to her. (Or maybe I do know, I just didn't want to face that I was a capital "R" to her. Haha! Nevermind, go figure that out.)

Love, the real kind, should be fierce but peaceful. I'm too old to risk my heart solving puzzles figuring out whether another person can love me back. I always have this mantra, "If you don't love me, don't." And as the song goes, we can't make people love us if they don't.

Things between us started to become unclear to me. It felt like my love will be only be taken for granted. Although painful, somehow it became much easier to bear. I may be wrong, I don't know. There's just so much confusion and uncertainty (and too little clarity) that it's the only conclusion I can arrive to. The initial excitement, happiness, and the hopes morphed into fear. I was afraid of breaking my heart just to unravel her truth.

Another more personal realization is that I may have been lying to myself on how I feel about being single. I always say, "Being single is fine." In the dating app, I even just ticked "Looking for friends" and "Not Sure Yet."

Am I really looking for "just friends?" Am I really "not sure?" I.... I guess it's difficult to admit that I am looking for more than that. I do want to have a deep connection and a special someone. I've read it somewhere that we judge ourselves for wanting a partner/relationship because it's seen as a form of weakness. The acceptable notion is that we should be fine with independency. But.... if I were to be deeply honest with myself, it's clear now what I truly want.

I need to be more brave with this heart's true wishes. But at the same time, I need to appreciate this (extended) season of singularity.

I don't know when it will end or if it will ever end, this season of singleness. But one thing's for sure. If ever love finds me, I'm certain that I can give my stars, my moons, my suns, my universe, my entire heart. Whoever that person, my person, is - I'm ready. I hope and pray you are too. 🩷

[chickennugqueen]

1-50 please

for anyone that doesn't want to know all this info, pls feel free to scroll lmao

1: Do you ever wish you were someone else? nope! i very much enjoy who i am

2: What is your full name? cortney rose lesovoy (follow me on instagram @/cortneylesovoy

3: How old are you and how old do you get mistaken for? i'm 25, usually get mistaken for 18-22 lmao

4: Have you ever dyed your hair? yes! it was purple and pink for a bit, but i'm back to my natural color

5: What’s your eye color? dark brown

6: Your opinion about your body and how comfortable you are with it i like my body. i used to struggle with an eating disorder, and it's something that does still affect me to this day, but i also love myself and am learning to be as comfortable as i can be with it.

7: Do you have any tattoos or piercings? some tattoos (more soon pls) and a couple piercings

8: What would you say is your best quality? my empathy and kindness

9: What are you really bad at? being patient and holding back my opinion on things

10: What talent do you wish you had? would like to get better at videography

11: Are you nice to everyone? everyone except fascists, nazis, and people who aren't accepting of all humanity

12: What do you think about the most? the man i adore

13: Things you like/dislike about yourself i really like who i am as a person. i'll always have growing to do but i'm happy with who i am, so i don't dislike anything about me.

14: What is your least favorite word? not sure i have one

15: What is your favorite word? anything that sounds like flabberghasted or bamboozled or something silly

16: Are you more like your mom or your dad? dad for sure

17: Would you ever smile at a stranger? always even though i'm shy

18: A reason you’ve lied to someone because i'm afraid of disappointment duh

19: Are you lying about anything right now? not that i'm aware of

20: Have you kissed someone older than you? of course

21: Do you believe in love at first sight? nope!

22: Do you believe in soulmates? i used to! but no, i don't. love is putting in the work.

23: Are looks important? eh, not really. looks will catch my attention but won't make me stay, whereas i can fall for someone's personality and not be attracted to them at first

24: Opinion on relationship age differences as long as its two consenting adults aka both over the age of 21, go for it.

25: Would you date someone off the Internet? for sure

26: Have you ever cried over a boy/girl? who hasn't?

27: Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have? of course. a universal experience

28: Anyone you’re giving up on right now? nope!

29: Have you ever liked someone who your friends hated? absolutely during my teenage years

30: Have you ever liked your best friend? yes! when we were in college

31: How does someone win your heart? similar politics, can banter with me, isn't afraid of my past trauma, will just stick by me when shit gets hard, is my best friend

32: What turns you on? emotional connection

33: What turns you off? so many things lmao, but definitely people being too sexual right off the bat before i get to know them.

34: Do you get jealous easily? depends on the person! at the place i'm at right now, not usually

35: What is your definition of cheating? if you haven't discussed it with your partner and there's a reason you won't tell them, it's cheating.

36: Do you forgive betrayal? depends what it is. i'm a forgiving person, usually

37: Have you ever been cheated on? never been in a relationship

38: Have you ever cheated on someone? see above

39: How often do you listen to music? every dang day

40: First concert you attended hilary duff!!

41: Last movie you watched shit i don't really watch movies.... probably black widow??

42: Favorite type of movie sucker for drama and romcoms

43: Is there something that happened in your past that you hate talking about? a couple of my sexual assaults, yeah

44: Are you good at hiding your feelings? literally never

45: Do you fall in love easily? i don't think so. i've only loved one person.

46: Do you think people say I love you too much? nope! say it to your friends, your partners, your family, anyone you know! doesn't diminish its meaning

47: What’s your favorite holiday? christmas

48: Are you a forgiving person? Do you like being that way? if someone apologizes and changes their actions or makes amends, yep!

49: Where’s the most magical place on earth? my bed i love sleeping

50: What’s your “type”? emo boys with long hair n pretty eyes for sure

[crazybigredlove]

13th September 2013

Dear Pete,

 It's official. Christopher has snapped. I have broken him like I break all men. 

 He is such a drama queen. Returns home from a long shift at the hospital and launches straight into an aggressive attack on me.

 "You're moping again," he says, flopping down beside me on the bed.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are. You have been since yesterday. What happened? Which of those men you like to let ruin your life contacted you and sent you into a spiral this time?"

"Are you really going to be a jerk for no reason?"

"It's 5pm, Liv. You're on leave from work and you're lying on your bed, staring at a wall."

There is a tension developing in my shoulders that I am struggling to prevent. "Can you back off? Just a little?" There's a snarl on my lips but I refuse to hide it.

"Why did I say something real or are you still in denial?"

 Tension spreads along the length of my spine, along both arms, and right down my legs. Tears form behind my eyes in that way they do when I'm about to lose control, but I don't take a breath to calm myself.

 "What is that supposed to mean?" Somehow he stays calm despite the crazy lady screaming at him. 

"You're obsessing over a guy who doesn't even like you. Look at you. You begged him to stay. You told him how you feel. You told him that all you wanted was to make him happy. Yet when he told you he could see a future with you he still went off with someone else. Did it ever occur to you that he was lying about every single word? That he never meant even a second of it? Not a single syllable? So will you please stop moping around the house like the world is ending just because some deadshit doesn't want to be with you?" 

Rather than walk away, I felt all the frustration of the last few months bubbling away, read to boiling over. 

"I never even mentioned Big Red. You're the one who has decided I'm upset about him. How dare you! You move into my apartment without asking. You take over half of my space without so much as a simple please, and now you're standing in front of me telling me that I'm living my life wrong? You know what?" Calmed down at this point and spoke like rational woman in control. "Maybe Big Red doesn't love me. Maybe he never will. And maybe you're right in that every word he ever said was a lie. But you know what keeps me going after men do horrible things to me? The idea that they aren't all going to be like that. That eventually I'll meet someone who is worth my time. If I make a few mistakes getting to that person, then so be it. I won't apologise for taking risks."

"And convincing yourself he cares about you?" His voice is still calm and he looks at me with such sadness that I wonder what it really is we're fighting about.

"What? I haven't. I know he doesn't give a shit about me." I grip my face in my hands. "But I need something to believe in. To make me feel like there is a point to this; that not all men are jerks. There has to be a reason that the universe is putting me through this other than it being a lesson I need to learn for no good reason. I would really like to think that maybe I'm not going to be alone forever, that there is a slight chance I'm not the girl that all the guys want to fuck but no one wants to be with. No one ever wants to be with me, Chris. They want to have sex with me, but they don't want to know what my favourite colour is or what really makes me laugh. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to be that girl? That girl who you call up when you want to eat pizza on the couch and slob around, but not that girl you want to take out to dinner or show off to your mates. Do you have any idea at all how painful it is to be me and at thirty-one years of age have to accept that you're probably going to die alone because no one ever wants more than friendship or sex? So yeah, I fucked up with Big Red and it probably won't be my last mistake, but I am trying. I am trying to finally get this right."

 Taking a seat, Christopher rubs at his temples. Folding his hands together he looks up at me; so sad. "I don't know, Liv. I'm sorry you feel that way, I am, but I don't want you to go out there with this blind faith that he's coming back, and then bump into him a few months down the track and he's blissfully happy, she's pregnant, and you're there all alone. The other night you made me watch that stupid movie. My Best Friend's Wedding. The gay guy asks her that question. He asks her who is chasing her. I'm asking you, Liv. Who is chasing you? Every night you write a letter to a man who never replies. You keep having dinner with some other prick who only has time for you when he doesn't have a better offer, and who let his mates publicly humiliate you. You spend your days holding onto a hope that some guy you spent one weekend with will realise that weekend meant so much more than one weekend. But you're here. Each night. Sitting with me on the couch. Seriously, what the fuck are you doing?"

 That was the point when the damn of tears erupted and I collapsed down beside him on the bed. Wrapping his arms around me, he held me tight for the longest time. 

 All I did was cry until he kissed me. He kissed me for even longer than he'd held me.

 We're still lying on my bed but he's fallen asleep now. He's wrapped around me as I type this and I wonder what is happening here. Why did he get so upset with me? Why does he put up with my outbursts? Why does he hate them all so much but continue to kiss me like they do?

 I see clearly why the world might think I'm insane, and I know that Big Red and I was nothing. It was only a weekend, but it was a weekend that I needed in order to convince myself that I wouldn't be alone forever.

 As for The Czech, I don't know. I don't know what he is.  

 So I'll keep lying here with Chris until he stirs. Then I'll send him down the hallway to his room, and I'll keep lying on my side of the bed and saving the other side for whomever might come along and actually want it permanently. 

 I can promise you that I will never apologise for believing in true love. Or that people can change. Or that sometimes people get lost on their path. I'm a hopeless romantic, the very worst kind, and I will not apologise for that.

 But, Pete, it'd be nice if you could come home now. This game has gone on long enough and I'm tired. I need a friend who knows me better than I know myself. I need to believe that not all men leave. The nicest thing that any man has said to me in years was tonight when Christopher was falling asleep and under his breath he mumbled, "It's blue. Your favourite colour is blue. It's why you chase all those blue-eyed men continuously."

 How can those few words be the highlight of my life up till now? How can he really be the only man who ever cared enough to notice?

 Liv x

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

So, in Brazilian contribution to abortion-related news feeding your current urge to carve your eyes out with a spoon, actress Klara Castanho was forced to reveal she was raped after suffering vicious attacks online for giving the resulting baby up for adoption.

The 21 year old actress became a trending topic on Brazilian Twitter after gossip columnist Leo Dias, gossip YouTuber Dri Paz, and Youtuber-cum-right-wing politician Antonia Fontanelle outed her, allegedly receiving the scoop from a nurse from the hospital where Castanho gave birth, who breached secrecy and broke work ethic conduct. Fontanelle and Paz claimed she had an affair with a married man, hid her pregnancy from fans, didn't even want to look at the baby's face, and abandoned a vulnerable, speaking about it with explicit contempt and claiming "disgust" about it. Their coverage of the case fueled online speculation on the actress's personal life, as well as slut-shaming and accusations against her person, of "irresponsibility", "inhumanity", "abandonment", etc.

Klara posted an open letter on Instagram revealing she had been raped, took a morning after pill, had a regular menstrual cycle and didn't gain weight or have her belly grow, and yet found out she was pregnant in a very advanced stage. As if she hadn't been violated enough, her doctor treated her like trash, forcing her to hear the baby's heartbeat, saying they had half of her DNA and that she would be forced to love them, and refusing to back down even after she explained she had been raped.

She got in touch with a lawyer and started all legal processes to have the baby be directly adopted by a family in the hospital right after birth, which is backed up by law and endorsed by adoption activists. "I was still trying to pick up the pieces when I had to deal with the information of having a baby.", she wrote on her open letter. "A baby born from a violence that destroyed me as a woman. I was not (and am not) emotionally able to give this child the love, care, and everything they deserve. Between the moment I found out about the pregnancy and the delivery, few days passed. It was too much to process, to accept, and I took the attitude that I consider more dignified and humane."

She continues: "On the day the child was born, I, still anesthetized from postpartum, was approached by a nurse who was in the operating room. She asked questions and threatened: 'imagine if this columnist discovers this story'. I was inside a hospital, a place that was supposed to welcome and protect me. When I got to the room, there were already messages from the columnist, with all the information. He just didn't know about the rape. I was still under the anesthesia."

Both this gossip columnist [she didn't name him, but Leo Dias was mentioned by Antonia Fontenelle, who first published about the pregnancy and adoption] and another who approached her days later, upon being told about the rape, promised not to publish the scoop. Well, look how that turned out.

Oh, and Antonia Fontanelle and Dri Paz? They've both doubled down on their actions. Fontanelle (who's a bolsonarist candidate for federal deputy for the Republicans party, same that hosts the pastor-cum-Rio mayor Marcelo Crivella – who sent cops to confiscate LGBT+ books from a book fair due to a Marvel comic gay kiss – and is linked to the ultra-Evangelical Universal Church of the Kingdom of God) said "what does that have got to do with me?", and that she doesn't understand "why people are all so uptight" with her for "having had the courage to mention a monstrous story". "Giving birth to a child and not wanting to see them and having them thrown to chance is a crime, yes. Only those who have never been to a shelter find this adoption little tale cute." The child is not going to be in a shelter, they've already been adopted. Nonetheless, Antonia called it "abandonment of a vulnerable person". Dri Paz, furthermore, accused Castalho of lying about the rape. After getting roasted online for it, she deleted the video and apologized for buying into 'fake news'. Leo Dias, in an interview with conservative comedian Danilo Gentilli, didn't mention the actress by name, but said "big karma" was coming for her, that the story in which he was "in dilemma" about reporting involved "cruelty". After the published letter, he said he had known about the case for a while and had decided not to report about it, and called the situation "an opportunity to rethink". The freaking baby themself got doxxed, with someone publishing their sex, weight, time and date of birth, and name of hospital.

After Klara Castanho published her open letter, she's been thankfully getting massive support from fellow celebrities, politicians, and average internet users alike, and Fontanelle, Paz, and Dias have been getting their fair share of criticism. However, none of that undoes all the violence Klara suffered, from the rape to the asshole doctor to the asshole nurse to the asshole professional gossipers to the asshole internet users.

This, mind ya, is from the same week Roe V Wade was overturned and it's been revealed that a 11 year old raped girl in Brazil was pressured and kept in a shelter by a judge for weeks to be stopped from having her lawful and rightful abortion. Anti-abortion activists love touting adoption as alternative and solution, but the vicious attacks suffered by Klara for doing exactly what they claim should be done show that it's never been about being pro-life, it's always been about control and forced motherhood.

(x)