#But if you press the button to fill your tank faster your friends live
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light-me-on-pyre · 6 months ago
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https://www.fimfiction.net/story/352115/the-friendship-test
Link to the story I mentioned in the tags (there's also a reading linked in the story description)
trial 1 was brand yourself or brand the next pony person in line. Nonlethal (unless you lunge for whumper and get your friend zapped to death)
trial 2 was beat rainbow dash or stab the next person in line to the hilt with the dagger. (same person could get beaten repeatedly over multiple turns or you could stab someone once)
trial 3 was toxic laughing gas. Hold your breath!
trial 4 was choose one of your friends to drown.
trial 5 was choice or chance poison. (in the cider one of the whumpees sold for extra flavor)
We don't get to see trial 6 because trial 1 was supposed to be nonlethal (so she says) but damn does the winner get survivor's guilt :)
(I didn't know what whump was when I was in the brony fandom but I think I still figured out what whump was even if not by name lmao)
Hey, I know I've been MIA for SEVERAL YEARS now, but I am writing a fic and I CANNOT get through my next chapter so I'm caving and asking for help.
In this fic, I have a whumper who is into games. They're making the whumpee go through trials. The whumpee nailed the fist trial and they're not happy. The whumper is also in posession of whumpee's family (of which I want two to perish in this chapter and three to survive). I'm having trouble thinking about the second trial.
I would like something intellectual: that is, the whumpee would choose to control the outcome, but it would always be terrible (Sophie's choice sort of deal). At first I thought something akin to the chess in Harry Potter in which each of the charaters represents a piece and if the piece gets captured they die. But I feel like that would be 1) hard to narrate 2) hard for readers to follow and 3) it's literally a rip off.
But I'm having trouble thinking of other ways that might happen. Does anyone have any suggestions on where I can look for inspiration?
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jjungkookislife · 19 days ago
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Kinktober Day One: Seokjin
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pairing: roommate!seokjin x f. reader
genre: roommates to lovers, sex work, 18+
summary: Seokjin invites you to watch his stream.
wc: 962
warnings: voyeurism, masturbation, cum eating
kinktober: day one - 📸(voyeurism) 🏆 first time 🍽️ face sitting
date: October 25, 2024
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Seokjin turned the camera as he sat in his chair. He smirked, allowing his followers to see the smooth planes of his chest.
You nearly drooled as you watched him. Your hand was between your thighs as he pushed his desk chair back to expose his thick, long cock.
Fuck, you knew better than to watch your roommate get himself off, but you couldn’t help yourself.
TastyCake: $50 stroke yourself, please
Seokjin chuckles as he appeases you. His strokes are slow, and languid as he stares into the camera. 
“Is this how you like it, TC? Nice and slow, wishing I was fucking into you?” Seokjin asks as he strokes his cock, biting his bottom lip to bite back a moan.
When Seokjin showed you his costume for his stream, you subscribed to his account. At first, you had been bashful, lurking in the comments as your roommate sat in front of the camera in his Sea Captain costume.
“I have a special guest watching tonight. She loves Halloween, and I know she’s shy about watching me, but it’s a dream come true.”
The chat goes wild as they try to guess who it could be, and you cover your face with your hands in your bedroom. You’re wearing your favorite pajama set, lilac shorts with tiny white skulls, and a black and white border on the hem. The shirt is a tank top with the same pattern and a slight v-neckline.
Seokjin reads the comments spiraling on his chat as he leans back, slowly undoing the first two buttons of his uniform. “You’re all so eager to get me naked!”
His laughter fills his bedroom, and you sigh as you watch him, sending a comment to join the others. Seokjin chuckles, shaking his head. You were surprised he’d let you watch tonight, mostly because you were good friends and roommates. He didn’t keep his occupation secret. He’d told you ahead of time what he did for work, and any time he’d go live you could either go out or wear your headphones.
Hobi_core: $200 take your top off, please!
Seokjin shakes his head as he looks straight into the camera. He undoes another button, exposing more of his beautiful chest.
Money pours in, dinging in the chat as Seokjin undoes all the buttons of his uniform. He keeps it on for a moment, showing off his taut abdomen as he grabs a bottle off his desk. Oil. Slowly, oil drips on the planes of his torso, making him shine in front of the camera.
You bite your lip as you watch attentively, legs pressed together as your body grows hot.
The stream goes on until Seokjin is naked in his seat. He winks, pushing his chair back to show off his long, thick cock.
“Fuck,” you curse as you fall back on your bed with your phone in your hand. You slip one hand under your pajama shorts, rubbing between your legs. 
Seokjin smirks after hearing you curse. 
“Are you touching yourself for me?” Seokjin asks as he slowly strokes himself. “Go ahead and touch yourself nice and slow for me, baby. Say my name.”
“Fuck, Seokjin,” You moan as you rub your clit. Your body grows hot, as you impatiently strip out of your pajamas.
“Fuck, that’s it. Moan for me. I want to hear you,” Seokjin demands as he fucks into his fist. You cry out, legs trembling as you palm your breast. Your phone lies on its side beside you with Seokjin’s dark eyes staring back at you.
“Imagine my hands on your body. My lips kiss their way down until I get between your legs,” Seokjin groans as the tips come flowing in. He bites back a moan of your name, his body jerking in his chair. He wishes you were with him, riding his cock for all its worth.
AngelJM: $100 cum for us! SweetiePie: $50 he’s gonna cum! Beauty123: $20  TastyCake: $150 cum with me, please! 
Seokjin groans, his eyes shut as he strokes himself faster. He opens his eyes to stare at the camera as he resists the urge to moan your name for all his viewers to envy.
“Seokjin!” he hears your scream from your bedroom, and it is that dulcet sound that makes him cum in his hand with a curse and a guttural groan.
Tips come pouring in as his viewers announce their orgasms. Seokjin chuckles as he catches his breath. He waves his hand at the camera, promising to return next week before he logs off.
Seokjin cleans up and puts his boxers back on after a quick trip to the bathroom. He heads to the kitchen for a bottle of water before going to your bedroom.
He knocks, and you let him in.
You’re in a t-shirt you stole from him a while back.
“Catch the stream?” Seokjin asks with a smirk.
“I did,” you nod as you sit on your bed.
“What did you think?” Seokjin asks curiously.
You pat your bed, giggling when he lies beside you. You kiss his cheek, then his jaw before kissing his lips. Seokjin moans as you straddle his hips. Your hand moves between your bodies before you slide two fingers inside you. Your thighs shake for a moment before you bring your wet fingers to Seokjin’s lips.
He greedily sucks them into his mouth, cursing before he kisses you.
“Want to join my stream next time?” Seokjin asks with a mischievous smile.
“Think you could handle me?” You tease as you rock your hips against his.
“Why don’t we find out, babe?” Seokjin rolls the two of you over, you gasp in surprise and giggle when your head meets the pillows.
“You’re that eager, huh?”
“You have no idea,” Seokjin states.
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rextasywrites · 3 years ago
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One Night (Leon Kennedy x f!reader)
The heat inside of his flat became insufferable, so during the evening, Leon ripped open the curtains and the windows, letting out the suffocating air. With a deep breath he leaned against the window sill, his eyes scanning his surroundings. If someone wanted to attack him, they would have done it already, Leon’s anxiety lowering significantly. The street under him was deserted apart from a few drunken teenagers, laughing and swaying in the streets. Leon clearly remembered the first time he got drunk. Oh, the memories flooded his brain and for the first time in quite a while, he let out a chuckle.
As Leon awaits his new mission, his neighbour catches his eye...
Warnings: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Peeping, leon gets caught peeping lol, One Night Stands, Female Ejaculation, Cunnilingus            
The waiting period between missions had become Leon’s biggest enemy. He couldn’t even go home, no, he had to stay at some rented flat in buttfuck nowhere, just to make sure the Bad Guy Of The Week didn’t find out where he was. Fuck, all he wanted was to hug his nieces and nephews again! But no, he had to stay at this shithole under some fake name, Alexander Johnsen or so. Couldn’t they at least rent him a flat with working AC?
Instead, the bottle had become his best friend along with local porn magazines. But even after a while, even the best liquor and his left hand became boring - what a shame, what a crime! But he wasn’t allowed to leave the flat, what else could he do? Watch the same foreign soap opera that ran every day at the exact same time? Why do soap operas have the same outcome everywhere?
The heat inside of his flat became insufferable, so during the evening, Leon ripped open the curtains and the windows, letting out the suffocating air. With a deep breath he leaned against the window sill, his eyes scanning his surroundings. If someone wanted to attack him, they would have done it already, Leon’s anxiety lowering significantly. The street under him was deserted apart from a few drunken teenagers, laughing and swaying in the streets. Leon clearly remembered the first time he got drunk. Oh, the memories flooded his brain and for the first time in quite a while, he let out a chuckle.
His eyes continued to gaze over the area, until they stopped on the window vis-a-vis him. And oh fuck, he was glad he caught this view. By the open window, a beauty was changing out of her clothes, probably ready to slip into her pyjamas for the night. Her thin plaid shirt fell from her shoulders after she unbuttoned each button with great care, making sure not to rip one off in a moment of carelessness. Leon was greeted with the sight of a toned back in a black tank top, hot pants unbuttoned and hanging low on her hips. The mere view of a real woman - big sorry to the pretty ladies in his latest copy of Playboy - made his cock twitch. “Fucking pervert.”, Leon growled to himself and looked down on himself in disappointment. But hey, one cannot fight the primal urges.
By the time Leon looked back up, the woman by the window had dropped her tank top and Leon’s jaw dropped along with it. Her breasts had the perfect size, and his imagination went straight to how he’d place kisses all over them, smoothing his face with them.
His imagination came to a sudden halt when the woman and he made eye contact. As she raised her eyebrows, Leon panicked and drew the curtains shut again, hiding behind the nearest wall. Oh fuck. That shouldn’t have happened. He was in a goddamn foreign country and supposed to keep a low profile - and not to get a peeping tom charge from the local police department. Chris would curse him out to hell and back if he finds out about this!
Leon dropped on the couch once his heart stopped trying to leap out of his throat, taking deep breaths as his eyes wandered to his crotch. Despite the heart attack he nearly suffered from, he couldn’t deny the sweetness of the view he just had. Ah, fuck it, his imagination was ways better than porn rags anyways.
With a quick motion, Leon pulled down his sweatpants and boxers, revealing his already hard cock. The now colder air hitting his warm skin made goosebumps cover his thighs and he went to town. With an almost hypnotizing rhythm, he thought of how much better her hand would feel around him. Up and down, up and down. Gently tugging on his foreskin, rubbing over his pre-cum leaking tip to lube himself up. Every stroke was done in her honour. How he’d rather have his cock buried deep inside of her pussy, or even better, his head between her thighs. If she tasted only half as sweet as she looked, her lovers would be the happiest men in the world.
His orgasm approached faster than he would have liked, but with an image like this in front of his inner eye - how could he not? By now in his mind they had swapped to hard fucking, him taking her from behind, bend over the desk standing deserted in his bedroom. His hands gripping her hips as he pounded into her, how sweet her moans would sound as they filled his room. As he grabbed for the tissues, his sweet moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. Fuck.
Leon quickly pulled his sweatpants back up, trying to hide his boner by carrying a jacket in front of it. He would have chosen his gun, but who knew who was actually at the front door? Maybe it was just a friendly old neighbour asking him to open a jar for him? Yeah, sure Kennedy, he thought to himself. His train of thoughts was interrupted when he spotted who was actually in front of his door. It was the pretty lady from before, oh fuck he’d get an earfull for his behaviour… Leon braced himself before he opened the door with a shy smile. But she didn’t seem hostile! The complete opposite was the truth, she seemed...happy? Excited? What was going on, and why could he not control his cock under the jacket he was holding?
“Am I interrupting something?”, the lady smiled at Leon, nodding her head towards his crotch. A blush, redder than the ripest tomato Leon had ever seen, spread across his cheeks as he tried to stumble over an apology. The lady just shook her head and pointed into the flat, “Tell me your name, dear. I want to know who I am going to ride all night long.”
Ah?
For a moment, Leon felt as if his brain was short circuiting, his brain cells bouncing from one wall inside of his skull to the other. It took a little cough and an instant reboot (along with some blood getting back into his brain) to make him remember his own name. “Leon.” Oh shit, he should have told her his fake name! Fuck, what was he even doing.
The lady chuckled and brushed past him into the living room. Leon walked to her after he locked the door, didn’t want any visitors while he was, uhm, busy. She was looking around in the room, eyeing how there was no decoration, no way to make it feel like home. Who was that man anyways? But at this moment, she didn’t care about it too much. It had been ages since she got laid and she didn’t want to waste another hour without a cock inside of her.
Leon looked down to his feet, stumbling over his words as he tried to form an apology. “I...I am sorry for looking at you that way. This was embarrassing for you and I am so so-”, he was interrupted by her clearing her throat which made him look up. To his surprise, the woman in front of him had dropped her tank top, standing now in front of him in this beautiful bra she had been wearing before along with her hot pants...and his dick jumped right back to attention.
“Come on, I was waiting for someone to look at me that way. You can be glad you came first.”, she chuckled as she walked over to Leon, cupping his cheeks as his hands found their spots on her waist. “Give me a kiss, will you? And then we can decide how we are going to spend the night.”
The kiss soon turned into more. Before she even knew what was happening, Leon had her pressed against the nearest wall, his hands roaming over her body, starving for any kind of sweet touch. It’s been too long since he had been touched without any ill intent. Her bra had been discharged a long time ago, his hands kneading and massaging over her breasts, taking in the softness under his fingertips. If he were to die now, he’d die a happy man. “Come on...Leon”, the woman breathed out, needing more from the agent in front of her, not knowing he had saved the world just mere days ago. Again.
*
The feeling of her legs wrapped around his hips was a feeling that’d be burnt into his mind forever. Their useless clothing items were soon discharged, carelessly thrown into the room. There was no time for foreplay, their looks exchanged from window to window were enough to rail both up. Funny how life works.
Her verbal confirmation that she was on birth control made his cock twitch, knowing he could fill her up without any worries was one of Leon’s bigger kinks. A groan rumbled through his chest as his imagination went to places he could take her at. They settled for the bed, dropping onto it with him on top of her. Dry grinding was boring at this point, she grabbed hold of his cock, dipping it between her folds to coat him with her juices of pure desire for him.
“Fuck.”, both of them moaned in unison once Leon pushed inside of her, connecting them in the most primal way. How long had it been since Leon was buried inside such a beauty? Didn’t matter, all that counted to him was the here and now, what was in the past didn’t matter to him anymore. All that mattered to him was her...and her sweet pussy.
Each stroke he had done in her honour just minutes before was now done inside of her, stretching her in the most perfect way, just enough to rail her up further, but not too far to the point of pain. Just perfect. His fingers toyed with her clit, feeling the wetness coating her all beauty. Nothing could stop him from claiming her as his, even if it was just for a few hours. “Fuck, you feel so good!”, Leon growled out, his voice shaky as he tried to contain himself from coming too early.
She realized this, and wrapped her legs tightly around him, flipping them over in the process. Now Leon had the prettiest view, her breasts right into his face as she leaned over him, taking all of him as best as she could. “Leon...oh fuck, yes, just like this!”, followed by a long drawn moan as she straightened her back, feeling how he bucked his hips up. Fuck, he wouldn’t be able to hold out any longer, she was just too sweet.
“I’m gonna...I’m gonna…”, Leon breathed out, and before he could finish his sentence, his orgasm rolled over him, taking him aback. His head dropped into the pillows under him as he filled her up, such a huge load that it was dripping out of her by the sides of his cock. Guess peeping had its perks too. His hands held onto her hips, keeping her down on him as he shot rope after rope inside.
For a moment, Leon felt like he was about to pass out due to the sheer craziness of his orgasm. Once he remembered his own name (it was not Alexander Johnsen!), the woman looked at him with a tilted head and a smirk on her lips. “You haven’t made me cum yet, Leon.” “Sit on my face, pretty lady.” “But you just…” “Did I fucking stutter?”
And she did. As his softening cock slipped out of her along with his cum dripping out, she crawled up to this face, reassuring herself once more that Leon was okay with it. He just gave her a dirty grin and nodded.
The salty taste of his own cum mixed with her sweet juices made Leon moan against her pussy, taking in every second of this fucking session. At first, he licked through her folds, tasting whatever he could get on his tongue but neglecting her clit for now. But he wouldn’t let her wait for too long.
Once he felt her thighs shake against his head, Leon knew that it was time. His mind was clouded with the taste of his own cum and her juices, so he moved up a little bit. After countless minutes of teasing her entrance with his tongue, ever so gently dipping in, he was ready to feel her cum around it. Leon nudged his tongue against her clit, and it felt as if a dam broke loose.
As she covered his face with her squirt, her whole body shook and she had to hold onto the bed frame so she wouldn’t tumble over. Leon laughed as she came on top of him, such a sweet view, just for him! And only for him! His whole face was covered in her lust, once the flood gates closed again, once again as sweet as ambrosia. Something he could lick on for every day for the rest of his life.
*
By the time Leon woke up again, the woman was gone again. No trace of where she went, but he knew she wouldn’t be far. She was vis-a-vis his apartment after all. All he needed to do was watch her undress again. Maybe this time he’d take her out for dinner afterwards.
Fuck, he didn’t even ask her for her name.
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guardianofrivendell · 3 years ago
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Guarding Your Heart - chapter 2
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Modern!Fíli AU written by @laurfilijames and @guardianofrivendell
Summary: Bodyguard AU: Lucy gets dragged into her father’s past against her will and is possibly in danger. Fíli gets assigned to her as her bodyguard. He doesn’t want to be there, she doesn’t want him to be there either. But then things get serious and in turns out Lucy is indeed in danger.
Warnings: mention of drinking and abduction, practically naked Fíli (twice... we don’t know how that happened... Really!), one suggestive moment and the expected amount of sass and smirks. 
A/N: Are you ready for chapter 2? Buckle up, because it’s a long one (7k+ words... we’re so sorry - and no, we couldn’t split it up into two chapters because of... reasons). We had a lot of fun writing this chapter, a little too much because we had to cut a few scenes to make it shorter :) Have fun reading and let us know what you think, we love reading the comments and speculations!
GUARDING YOUR HEART MASTERLIST
Laurfilijames masterlist Guardianofrivendell masterlist
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The morning sun came peeking through the blinds and slowly made its way over to Lucy’s bed, sliding closer and closer with every passing minute until it finally reached her face.
Now most people consider waking up with the sun shining and the birds singing their morning songs as a perfect start of the day. Who wouldn’t want to live their life like a Disney princess right? But not Lucy… 
No, Lucy wasn’t exactly what you would call a morning person. 
The only reason she would be awake around sunrise was because she didn’t go to bed at all and was still up partying. There was no way anyone would get her out of bed a minute earlier than she absolutely had to.
Lucy groaned when she felt the warmth on her face and hid underneath her duvet. It should be considered illegal to wake up before your alarm. 
Wait a minute… The sun was shining, her alarm was set at 7 am. This shouldn’t be possible. What time was it? 
Her arm appeared from underneath the duvet and patted the night table a few times in search of her phone. When she couldn’t find it, she threw back the duvet and looked around the room in a light panic. Now where could she… oh.
Everything from the day before finally caught up to her. 
How her new babysitter took away her phone, and then had the nerve to come and ask for her laptop and tablet too. He even scolded her for slamming her bedroom door, like she was still a child. In her own home!
She stared at her open door. Him and his stupid rules...
She thought back to their argument about it yesterday. How he threatened to unhinge all her doors if she wouldn’t listen, and she in turn might have accused him of being a pervert. Fíli had pulled his hair in frustration before he thundered down the stairs again, mumbling something about impossible rich brats.
Speaking of… It was awfully quiet. He was still here, wasn’t he? 
Lucy crawled out of bed and tiptoed to the open door of her bedroom, sticking her head out into the hallway. Nothing.
Without getting her hopes up too much, she made her way to the edge of the landing and peeked over the railing into the living room.
“I can hear you, you know,” a voice sounded from the couch. “You’re not exactly trying to be subtle.”
Lucy sighed and rolled her eyes. Nope, not gone yet.
Her bare feet dragged her down the stairs and to the living room before she realised she was still in her night clothes: a black tank top and her grey shorts. 
Lucy paused, should she go back upstairs and change? Wasn’t this weird? 
There was a stranger in her house and she was barely dressed. Chad would have a fit if he knew. It might even make Fíli uncomfortable.
But hey, she was in her own house! If she wanted to walk around like this, she could. If he couldn’t handle it, he knew where the door was.
Fíli was lying stretched out on his back on the couch, his head resting on his arms, feet on the arm rest. 
“Comfortable, are we?” Lucy asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 
She noticed he had rolled up his sleeping bag already and stowed it away with his pillow. It didn’t come as a surprise that he had his bed made as soon as he was out of it. Even if technically his bed was her couch. He shifted so he was sitting upright, and looked at his watch.
“Do you always sleep this late?” he wondered. 
“Why, what time is it?”
“It’s well past 10.”
Lucy raised her arms and let them drop at her sides again. “Well I wouldn’t know now, would I? You took away my phone! And that’s my alarm clock.” She mumbled the last bit.
“You have heard of an actual alarm clock before, haven’t you?” he said sarcastically. 
“Yes,” she hissed, her annoyance increasing by the second. “I just don’t have one because I happen to live in the 21st century and I use my phone like every other person!”
She walked into the kitchen and flicked on the kettle, desperate for coffee, and took a clean bowl out of the dishwasher for her breakfast. When she turned around Fíli was standing on the other side of the island, looking very smug as he plopped a travel-sized alarm clock down onto the counter. 
“There. Now you’ll be able to tell the time and wake up before the day is half over.” 
“It’s not like I have anything to get up for…” she mumbled as she worked on brewing her coffee. 
Of course he had something like that on hand. What else did he have stashed away in his bags? Likely everything one would need to survive out in the wilderness for days on end. 
She opened the fridge to get the milk for her cereal and almost dropped her bowl in surprise. Yesterday her fridge was practically empty. Not even enough food in it to keep that bloody mouse alive. Which is why she panicked when she heard she wasn’t allowed to leave the house again. 
But now she was looking at a fully stocked fridge. Everything she could ever need was there: fruits, vegetables, yoghurt, milk, drinks, stuff to make sandwiches, …
“Told you I’d take care of it.”
Lucy turned around to face him. “How did you...?”
Fíli was now leaning against the counter, arms and legs crossed. He shrugged in response to her question. She didn’t need to know everything. 
“Did you leave the house?” she asked him, taking the milk out and closing the fridge with her hip.  
“No.”
“You got it delivered?” Lucy didn’t hear the bell, but then again, she was asleep or he could’ve got to the door before the delivery guy had the chance to press the button. 
“No.”
She looked up at him again and tilted her head. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
Fíli just smiled at her and went back to the living room without saying another word.
Lucy took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Easy now, don’t let him get under your skin! 
She placed the milk back in the fridge and opened a cupboard to get her cereal, and almost gasped aloud. Not believing what she saw, she started opening the other cupboards and was met with the same view. Just like her fridge was now fully stocked, every cupboard was filled to the brim with canned and dry foods.
“You’re welcome by the way!” Fíli shouted from his place on the couch. 
She might have closed the cupboard door a little harsher than necessary after that remark.
After breakfast Lucy went upstairs and changed into her running clothes again. 
Yes, yes, Fíli had said she couldn’t leave the house, but she really needed to get some fresh air. It had only been a day, and she already felt like the walls were closing in on her. Her plan was simple: if she wasn’t allowed to go out by herself, he would have to join her. He could protect her just as well outside.
In the hopes he could keep up with her pace, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Not that she had let her eyes linger on his physique, no really, she didn’t, she was just assuming every bodyguard was in perfect shape. Nothing wrong with that. 
When she entered the living room, said bodyguard was working on his laptop. His eyes met hers and he smirked when he saw her outfit. 
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No, Fíli. I do not kid,” she repeated his words from the day before. “I really want to go for a run.”
He turned his upper body towards her and rested his arm on top of the chair. 
“Tell me. What part of not leaving the house don’t you understand?”
“That’s why you’re coming with me.”
Fíli raised his eyebrows at her and then pretended to consider it. “Let me think… No.”
He turned back towards his laptop. 
“Come on, Fíli, please? I really need to get some fresh air.” He had to understand she was practically going crazy here, she needed to clear her head to wrap her mind around all this. 
“No.” He didn’t even look up at her.
“I need the workout,” she tried again. 
“You can do that inside.”
“But if you would just-”
“Lucy, I said no!” he interrupted, raising his voice. 
She was so caught off guard that she took a step back at his outburst. 
“You’re awfully rude for someone who’s meant to be keeping me safe,” Lucy said, trying to keep her voice even.
“I’m here to keep you alive, not to be your friend.”
He watched as she bit her trembling lip and he almost regretted lashing out at her. 
Every muscle in his body was ready to jump into action if necessary and sure enough, he saw her eyes flicker to the hallway. She was going to make a run for it.
“Luce,” he warned her, letting her know he was onto her. 
But she was fast. Faster than he had anticipated, and she was already in the hallway before he got to his feet.
Fíli cursed heavily. “Lucy, no!”
It had only been two days since he arrived and he found himself using these two words more than he liked.
When he ran into the hallway, he could see her running up the stairs towards her room, and not out the door as he thought she would. 
Fíli ran his hand through his hair, and exhaled loudly. 
“She’s going to be the death of me someday, I swear...”
Lucy slammed the door and pressed her back against it, fighting the upcoming tears. How was she ever going to live through this?
She ignored Fíli’s demand of keeping the door open, needing a moment to collect herself before she lost it in front of him.
Lucy gripped her hands together tightly to stop them from shaking and took a series of deep breaths to try and prevent more tears from falling. 
She didn’t want to admit that he scared her. It was just a question, there was no need for him to shout at her. 
Could she really be in that much danger? 
And even if she was, he could still try and be nice to her. Or at least try to understand her side of things and see it from her point of view. 
Once she was changed into a legging and oversized sweater and felt strong enough to be in the same room as him again, she threw the door open and walked to the kitchen, ignoring Fíli’s stare. 
She needed a drink.
Jars clinked together in the refrigerator door as she whipped it open, reaching for a perfectly chilled bottle of champagne.
Lucy stood on her tiptoes to reach a flute, and slammed the glass down on the counter a little harder than she intended, but it thankfully didn’t break.
With a ‘pop’ the cork was freed from the bottle, leaving whispers of fizzy smoke trailing in the air. Her hands trembled again as she poured it carefully into the glass, not wanting to give away her nerves to Fíli who was now leaning on the doorframe and watching her like a hawk. 
“I don’t know if this is an appropriate time for bubbles,” he said, his voice full of judgement. “It’s not even noon yet.”
Lucy spun to face him and placed the rim of the glass to her lips, staring him down fiercely as she emptied its contents in one go, not stopping despite the burning sensation it created down her throat.  All she could think about was how much she wanted him gone.
“Maybe I’m mourning the death of what used to be my life!” 
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Fíli smirked, biting the side of his bottom lip. “People are simply trying to keep you alive and the only thing you can worry about is your running schedule.”
Lucy slammed her glass on the counter again and braced both arms against the edge to fake some courage. 
“It’s not just my running schedule! It’s everything! My studies, my future career, my boyfriend! All turned upside down and tossed to the side because of my father, who I haven’t seen or heard of for the past seven years by the way. So forgive me for being a little bitter.” 
She refilled her glass, the first one was not enough to take the edge off the terrible way she was feeling. Lucy could see Fíli shaking his head from side to side in her periphery and she nearly lost it when she heard him chuckle. 
“You’re getting a kick out of this aren’t you? You’re watching my life crumble apart before me and I bet you find it incredibly entertaining!” 
“Oh don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I’m equally as offended and inconvenienced by this whole thing as you are.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ceiling, not liking where this conversation was headed. 
“You can leave at any time!” she snapped, pointing her finger at him. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself!”
“Would you like to try?” he challenged her, raising his eyebrow in question. 
“Try what?”
“Looking after yourself. Should we see what happens?” 
“This entire thing is being blown out of proportion! Nothing is going to happen! Nothing ever happens!” 
He took a few steps towards Lucy until his face was only inches away from hers. If he wanted her to cooperate, he needed to be brutally honest with her. She’d probably hate him after this, but she could use the wake up call.
He took the champagne glass out of her hand and placed it back on the counter, not breaking eye contact.
“Really? So the chances of someone breaking into your house in the middle of the night is, what? One in a million?” he started. “Someone gagging you and tying you up, then tossing you in the back of a vehicle and driving you somewhere, anywhere, where no one is able to find you, not even me? Them doing  unspeakable things to your mind, your body, ... You really think that could never happen in your privileged little life? Think again, sweetheart. Your dad messed around with some nasty people and they will not hesitate to use you to get what they want.”
He watched as fear spread across her features, and he knew he’d done his job in scaring her. The furrow of her brows relaxed slightly with every description he made of what would most likely happen to her if he wasn’t there to protect her. 
“God, you’re a prick!” her voice shook slightly and she bumped his shoulder harshly when she stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom.
He heard the door slam and he exhaled deeply, his patience stretched incredibly thin. She seriously had the brazenness to shut the door, again?
Lucy spent the rest of the day ignoring Fíli, which he honestly didn’t mind at all. 
She was watching some kind of reality show on the tv that night, with Fíli keeping an eye on her from his seat at the table. She was still ignoring him, sitting with her arms crossed and legs pressed together, and he could tell she wasn’t really paying attention to what was happening on the screen. 
His phone buzzed, breaking the torturous silence and he was happy for the distraction. He picked it up to read a text from Kíli saying he had sent over the background check on Chad that he requested the day before. 
Fili placed the book he was reading down on the table and opened the document on his laptop to check what had been found out about the guy.
Chad Van der Beek, 32 years old, works for his father’s insurance company, living in downtown Auckland… Fíli skimmed through everything and didn’t seem to find anything particularly interesting about him.
Fíli: Thanks for the report. 
Kíli: No problem. Nothing out of the ordinary. Seems like your regular trust-fund douche. 
Fíli couldn’t help but chuckle as he read through the gathered info on Chad and quickly agreed with his brother. 
Fíli: You're not wrong there. Where did you get all of this from anyway? I didn’t really need to know where he ate the other night.
Kíli: His Facebook account. 
Fíli: Are you serious Kíli? 
Kíli: Hey! You’d be surprised what you can find out on social media. He has no previous infractions other than the odd parking ticket, so I dug a little deeper. 
Kíli: You’re welcome. 
Kíli: I still think she’s hot, btw. I looked at her profile too. 
Fíli put his phone down beside him and continued going through everything that was discovered about her boyfriend, choosing not to glorify his brother’s comments on Lucy with a response.
Kíli had even managed to send over some older posts of Chad and his buddies partying on a yacht in Ibiza, completely surrounded by half-naked women, none of which were Lucy. This guy was the definition of a loser. She could do better.
His phone buzzed with another message from Kíli and he sighed as he picked it up again, bracing himself for another one of Kíli’s pervy comments about Lucy.
Kíli: How are things going anyway?
Okay, something normal. 
Fíli looked over at Lucy who was sitting in exactly the same position as before with a full pout on, obviously still upset.
Fíli: Fantastic. 
Kíli: I can sense your sarcasm through the phone. I’ve tried convincing Thorin to let me take over, but he keeps denying me.
Fíli shook his head, thankful for Thorin saying no for Lucy’s sake.
Kíli: You should make a move on her… save the poor girl from that idiot. You can’t deny she’s a total babe, Fee. At least make your time there worthwhile… 
Fíli: Trust me, Lucy can handle a guy like Chad. And for the last time, I’m not going to sleep with her! This is exactly why Thorin didn’t put you on this assignment, you’re always thinking with your cock. 
Fíli: Thanks for the info, dickhead. 
*
Lucy woke up in the early hours of the morning, bathed in sweat and panting as if she had been running like crazy. Which she had, but only in her dream. 
Her eyes darted around her room needing to assure herself she was in her own house, in her own bed. Not in the back of a trunk or tied to a chair in some dusty old warehouse. 
She cursed Fíli for putting those images in her head.
Her bare feet touched the cold floor when she swung her legs out of bed, and she sat like that for a while trying to calm down. A glass of water would be nice, but she didn’t want to wake up Fíli. The travel clock he gave her told her it was a little past 4 am, and he would probably be a very light sleeper.
But her head perked up when she heard a grunt coming from downstairs. And then another one. And another. 
Lucy was curious, that was definitely Fíli she was hearing and it sounded like he was either in pain or he was having a really good time. 
She couldn’t go and check right? She shouldn’t… No, she definitely should not.
And yet her feet carried her to the open landing all on their own, her curiosity getting the better of her. What she saw wasn’t entirely what she expected, but somehow she wasn’t surprised.
This should be the moment where she should have turned around and gone back to sleep, leaving him to it, but she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from the show Fíli was unknowingly giving her.
Fíli was lying on his back in her living room, half naked, sweaty and panting. 
She watched him work his way through his fitness routine. Crunches, sit ups, squats, lunges, planks… he just kept going. And Lucy kept staring. 
The drops of sweat tracing the outlines of his muscles, his dog tags softly chiming every time they touched the floor during his push ups, the sounds he was making, it was all so mesmerizing to her. She swallowed thickly and finally seemed to regain her common sense. She had to stop, this was wrong!
Lucy hurried back to her room and crawled underneath her sheets, ready to fall back asleep and hopefully have more pleasant dreams this time.
But sleep wouldn’t come.
After a few minutes she heard Fíli come up and turn on the shower. It only lasted about 3 minutes, and when he was done she caught herself listening to every sound, trying to follow his movements through her house. 
It kept her mind busy and away from her nightmare amongst other images, but it also prevented her from falling asleep again.
After another hour of tossing and turning, she finally had enough and got out of bed. It was around 6, and past Lucy would be horrified to know she was willingly getting up at this hour. 
A shower would wake her up, and if that didn’t work she could always try to take a nap during the day. It was not like she could do anything else around here.
Heck, why not make it into a well-deserved spa treatment while she was at it? Face mask, exfoliate, hair mask, … God knows she deserved some pampering after all the crap she had to deal with the past two days.
She collected fresh clothes to change into afterwards, and made her way to the bathroom.
When he heard movement upstairs, Fíli got up from his seat at the table. 
It was still very early, there was no way Lucy would be up already. He slowly climbed the stairs, his eyes fixed on the doorway of her bedroom, and he reached the landing at the same time Lucy stepped out of her room.
She froze as soon as she saw him standing there, wearing a black, fitted tee.   
Images of him working out in her living room earlier flashed in front of her eyes and she felt her cheeks flush. Her eyes kept lingering on his chest and upper arms, the way they were flexing earlier and the memory of the engorged veins all over his skin made her heartbeat quicken. She clutched her clothes a little tighter against her chest.
“Good morning,” she stammered, trying to hide her flustered state. 
She made a move to go towards the bathroom, but Fíli blocked her way. 
“You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she muttered. There was no way she was telling him about her nightmare.
Fíli watched her closely. She was keeping something from him, but he decided not to push it. At least not yet. She’s probably just missing her boyfriend and he didn’t think he could handle lovesick rambling this early in the morning.
“Oh, so does this mean we’re talking again?” Fíli smirked.  
“If you promise not to be a jerk today.”
He laughed at that. “Only today? I think I can manage that. No promises though.”
And there they went again, easily falling back into their bickering.
“Could you move? I’d like to shower.”
He stepped aside and Lucy disappeared in the bathroom. 
She placed her clothes on the chair next to the vanity and when she was about to take off her top, she noticed Fíli standing in the doorway.
“Can I help you?” she asked bluntly.
“I need to make sure the window is still secure.”
“I really don’t think anyone climbed in through that window and is hiding behind the shower curtain.”
“I’m just doing my job here, Luce,” he said, pulling back the curtain after checking the lock on the bathroom window, twice. 
That was the second time he used that nickname for her and she hated it. “It’s Lucy!” 
Fíli stepped out into the hallway again once he was satisfied there were no threats and positioned himself against the wall beside the door. 
Then Lucy had the nerve to try and close the damn thing, which Fíli prevented by placing his hand on the door to hold it open.
“You’re not serious!” Lucy said in disbelief.
“Doors open, you should know that by now.”
“But I’m having a shower!” She placed her hand on her hip and waved towards him with the other one. “What are you going to do, stand there and watch me change?”
No matter how good looking he might be, this was crossing a line. 
“Of course I’m not going to watch, but you need to keep the damn door open. I’ll be right here on the landing.”
Fíli heard her huff and swear under her breath as he leaned back against the wall. She didn’t know how lucky she was that it was him who was here and not Kíli, who probably would’ve insisted they needed to shower together for “safety reasons”.
Fíli checked his watch for the third time, Lucy had been showering for over 20 minutes already. What the hell was she doing in there?
He peeked his head around the corner, but kept his eyes directed on the ground just in case she would choose to step out at that exact moment. “Are you almost done?” 
“Nope!” she called back, popping the ‘p’ and with a sassy ring in her voice. She was taking her sweet time on purpose. Perhaps he needed to give her a hint to hurry it up.
Fíli stepped in the bathroom and turned on the taps of the sink, hoping it would have the intended result of turning her water ice cold. 
Lucy screamed and flung the curtain open enough for her to poke her head out, but he had already turned the tap back off and disappeared into the hallway, doing his best not to let her hear his laughter.
“Did you just turn on the tap?” she cried at him. 
“Nope!” he yelled back, popping the ‘p’ like she’d done moments before.
“Like hell you didn’t!” 
“If you knew, why bother asking?”
Lucy kept quiet after that and Fíli let his head rest against the wall. 
Kíli was right, this was a low-level assignment.  
He was used to long stake-outs and week-long missions, even in the worst of circumstances, but this was entirely different and she was really testing his patience.  
Maybe he could convince Thorin to let him switch with Kíli every other week after all. 
Fifteen minutes later, Lucy finally finished her shower and Fíli sighed in relief. He had actually been thinking about going to the kitchen and shutting off the water completely… Maybe next time.
*
After a full week of paying attention to Fili’s habits, Lucy had come up with a plan. 
The alarm clock read 3 am. Officially the earliest she had ever woken up. Except for that flight to Bali. Oh and that trip to Italy, how could she forget that one! 
Correction; this was the earliest Lucy had woken up to don her running gear and pretend she was still sleeping in order to go for a run.
She was more than desperate to leave the condo after being cooped up with the Winter Soldier for more than a week now. She wanted to feel fresh air on her face and to allow her legs to carry out her frustrations by finally going for that mind-clearing run, but she needed to wait until Fíli was in the shower to make her escape.
He was going to be furious with her and it would probably make the next couple of days a living hell. Maybe he would actually lock her in her room this time, but she was willing to risk that for an hour of freedom.
She knew his morning routine by now and Lucy intended to use it to her advantage.
She had set the alarm on the travel clock to go off at 3, and stuffed it under her pillow so as not to alert Fíli. If he would wake up too, her plan was useless.
Thank God Fíli was very regimented, because at 4 o’clock sharp he was up and starting his daily workout. Lucy listened to him grunt as he carried out the ridiculous series of push-ups and sit-ups, and tried not to imagine what he looked like doing them. She knew of course, she witnessed it with her own eyes last week. But that didn’t mean she didn't wonder why on earth anyone could be bothered with such effort.
After an hour of rolling her eyes to herself in her bed, she heard his footsteps on the stairs and him approaching her room. 
With the covers tucked up close to her chin so Fíli wouldn’t see her running clothes, she closed her eyes, ready for her best acting. She tried to breathe as slow and even as she could and even managed to make her fingers twitch a little like she was dreaming. An Oscar-worthy performance, truly.
A minute had passed and she listened to him step away from her doorway and head to the bathroom. 
At least that was something positive about these open doors, she thought, he could hear everything she was doing, but that applied to her as well.
As soon as the shower flicked on, Lucy used the noise to her benefit and bolted out of her room, bounding down the stairs at an impressive rate, knowing by now his showers only lasted about 3 minutes. The door was ahead of her, and the last two steps met her feet in no time at all, her freedom so close she could almost taste it. 
But then the ground suddenly fell out from under her and she landed hard at the bottom of the staircase. 
A dull pain started spreading through her left ankle and she cursed under her breath. Perfect timing Lucy. She groaned and sat up to check on it, but she didn’t have much time left, any second now Fíli would be done with his shower.
She reached a shaking hand to it, prodding it to check its condition. It was tender to touch and Lucy thought she could see a swelling come up, but she was still hellbent on getting out of here. If she could reach the nearby park, there were enough benches to let her ankle rest for a bit if needed.
She moved to stand, immediately crying out from the jolt of pain that shot through her ankle as soon as she put weight on her foot and she collapsed on her knees. She clasped her hand over her mouth, knowing Fíli would have heard her with his razor-sharp hearing. She slammed her fist on the floor out of frustration. She could forget her escape-plan now…
Just as she predicted, a very naked Fíli appeared at the top of the staircase mere seconds later. He did have a towel wrapped around his waist thank God, his hair still dripping wet and drops of water running over his chest. She was certain he jumped straight out of the shower as soon as he heard her scream. The worried but calculated expression on his face turned into a grin the second he saw her lying on the floor. 
It took Lucy a moment to notice the gun he was holding in his hand, the shock of having it pointed at her taking away from that of her fall. 
“Were you seriously pointing a gun at me just now?” 
“Were you seriously trying to leave the house?” he countered.
Fíli put the safety back on his gun and trotted down the stairs, easily stepping over the tripwire he had secured on the second to last step the previous night. 
Lucy’s mouth dropped open in disbelief at his trap, reaching for it and plucking it with her finger. 
“You set this up?” she gawked. 
“Mhm,” he replied, crouching down and reaching for her ankle. 
“Were you trying to kill me?” 
Fíli took her foot in his hands to remove her running shoe and Lucy was surprised with how gentle he was. 
“The exact opposite, actually,” he muttered. 
“You’re insane.”
“And you don’t listen,” he said, his voice strained. “That tripwire has been there from the first day I got here. Every night I put it up as an extra safety measure in general, not to try and trip you if you decide to make a run for it. But you just proved its effectiveness. Don’t go anywhere, I’m going to put some clothes on first.”
Lucy grabbed the shoe he had removed from her now busted ankle and hauled it at him as he ascended the stairs two at a time, unfortunately missing him. 
Despite the pain in her ankle and feeling like she was being kept prisoner in her own home, she kept her threatening tears at bay, refusing to cry in front of that bastard. 
Within a minute Fíli was making his way back down the stairs, this time wearing a pair of grey track pants, his upper body still bare aside from his dog tags.
He scooped Lucy up into his arms like she weighed nothing and turned to carry her up to her room. 
“Put me down! I can walk just fine,” she protested, completely flustered because she was pressed up so close against his bare chest.
He chuckled, “Okay then, suit yourself,” and he released her legs from the crook of his arm but kept his other arm around her waist just in case.
She stood tall, trying to fake her strength, and placed all of her weight on her right foot before very gingerly touching the toes of her left to the ground. That slight pressure alone made her face curl up in a wince. She instinctively grabbed Fíli's shoulder for support when her ankle gave out again, and Fíli in turn tightened his grip around her waist to keep her from falling.
He refrained from making any smart-ass remarks and instead he sighed, collecting her in his arms once again, making his way back up the steps.
“At least now I know you won’t try to run away again,” he commented.
Lucy made a gruff, displeased at the entire situation including being pressed up against his hairy chest again. She couldn’t help but notice how remarkably firm he was though. Guess those early morning workouts were useful after all.
It felt like it took an eternity to reach her bedroom, and when Fíli finally placed her on her bed she was surprised by the gentleness with which he treated her. Little did she know Fíli had genuinely considered tossing her onto it instead.
He instructed her to lay back and lift her leg up for him to check her ankle once more. 
She did as she was told, and he swiftly placed one of her spare pillows under it for support. It took all of her willpower not to kick him with her other foot when he pressed against the sore and swollen part.
“You’re in luck, it’s not broken. Just severely sprained, you’ll need to stay off of it for a couple of days,” he instructed her and Lucy nodded, too stumped to say anything. “I’ll get you some ice. The bruising won’t start for another few days. In the meantime you have to keep it elevated.” He carefully placed another pillow beneath her foot before he went downstairs.
Lucy stared at her ceiling, cursing the fact that she was now completely dependent on the guy who she refused to believe she needed here in the first place. To be fair, he had been incredibly gentle when it came to tending to her foot - which she hadn’t expected at all - but the whole thing still made her feel helpless.
A tear slipped down her cheek and she furiously wiped it away, wishing more than anything to be wrapped up in Chad’s arms right now.
*
Three days had gone by since her fall and Lucy finally managed to hobble over on one foot to the large window in her bedroom without Fíli’s help. The state of her ankle was preventing her from moving around at any sort of a decent pace, so it took her far longer than she would’ve liked. She was already dreading the way back, but for now she was more than content to admire the view.
She leaned against the window frame and watched the sun setting over the city. After days of staring at nothing but her bedroom walls while being confined to her bed, it was a more than welcomed change of scenery.
She was lost in her thoughts, wondering what she was missing in her classes, what Chad was doing and if that mouse was still in her house somewhere, when Fíli’s stern voice startled her.
“Get away from the window!”
She whipped her head over her shoulder to glare at him, thinking how he could possibly forbid her from looking out her own bloody window. Yet another addition to one of his many rules. At this rate it wouldn’t be long before the only thing she was permitted to do was breathe and go to the bathroom.
“I was just getting a little tired of staring at the wall, that’s all,” she sighed, while she turned back to watch the shadows of the night slowly but surely take over the city. 
“Someone could see you! You really need to stop being so careless,” he warned her as he quickly drew the curtains.  
He watched her begin to make her way over to the bed on one leg for a few seconds before he lifted her into his arms to get her to her destination faster. 
“Thank you,” she said softly. 
“It’s fine, just... keep away from the windows, alright?”
“Alright.” 
Fíli grabbed his laptop from his bag and settled himself at her makeup table. 
This was their new arrangement ever since she hurt her ankle. Lucy was dependent on Fíli now, and was very quickly getting bored to death, so Fíli worked in her room to keep her company.
He made her breakfast and cooked dinner, and she hated to admit that he was a very decent cook, which surprised her at first. She half expected to eat nothing but toast with beans for a few weeks if he was on cooking duty. 
He really tried to make it as comfortable as possible for her, but she suspected he was glad she was immobile now. It made his job a lot easier.
Lucy watched him type away on his laptop, his phone next to him. You know what…? This wasn’t fair at all!
“Why can you have a laptop and a phone and I can’t? I have work to do too,” she said, a little put off.
Fíli sighed heavily before answering, he needed to choose his words carefully if he didn’t want to sound too much like an asshole. 
“Because mine are on a secure connection with headquarters and I’m only using them to send in my reports and keep up to date with other cases.”
“Can I use your laptop?”
Fíli gave her a sideways glance, “Absolutely not.”
She grumbled and he had to bite his cheek to stop him from laughing. Saying ‘no’ to Lucy was just as bad as denying a child something they really wanted. 
“What are you writing in your reports? How you tried to kill me with your boobytraps?”
“The same thing I write everyday,” he answered before smirking at her, “how annoying you are.”
Lucy ignored his insult. She really wanted to know more about his job. Since he knew everything about her, it was only fair he would share some information as well. 
“So... how did you get into all of this?”
Fíli continued typing and gave her the most vague answer he possibly could. 
“I was in the military before this and it just seemed like the appropriate next step.” 
“I figured as much, those aren’t just an accessory.” 
She nodded at his chest when he gave her a questioning look, causing him to glance down at his dog tags that were resting between his pecs. 
“Hmm,” he hummed, tucking them inside his t-shirt and attempting to focus on his task. 
“No offense, but why did you end up here? I mean… This doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of thing that would be assigned to you,” she stated, hoping to throw him off slightly and get him to talk. 
“No, it isn’t,” he admitted, “my brother messed up and our uncle didn’t want anything else to go awry. So they sent me instead.” 
His fingers stopped moving across the keyboard, and Lucy knew he had revealed more than he wanted to. 
“Oh! You have a brother?” 
She sat up a little straighter, interested to hear more. “What’s he like?” 
Fíli exhaled deeply and continued typing, setting his jaw tightly, mad at himself for letting that information slip. 
“You wouldn’t like him.” But Fíli knew that was a lie, of course she would like Kíli, everyone adored the cheeky bastard. 
“I bet he’s a lot nicer than you.”
“I’m plenty nice.” 
“Ha! That’s rich,” she snorted. “Do you at least get along with him?”
“Yeah, I do. Luce, I’m trying to work here...”
“It’s Lucy. What’s the age difference?” Lucy continued, ignoring his plea to let him work. “Are you older or younger? I bet you’re older. You’ve got that way about you that older siblings seem to have—“
“Shh!” Fíli suddenly interrupted her and held up his hand. 
“I wasn’t finished talking, but don’t mind me!”
“Shhh!” Fíli said again with more concern this time, his brows furrowed, eyes fixed on something in the hallway outside of her room. He slowly stood up and walked towards Lucy, ready to take action if he needed to. 
Lucy however was completely oblivious to what was happening.
“Would you stop shushing me! You’re so ru—.” Fíli cut her off by placing his hand over her mouth to force her to stop. 
“Luce, be quiet for a moment, okay?” 
He gave her a warning look as he removed his hand, and Lucy's eyes widened when she saw him pulling his handgun out of the back of his waistband.
Fíli carefully made his way to the hallway and peeked over the railing on the landing, only to see his suspicions confirmed. He cursed under his breath, hating to admit that Thorin was right after all.  
He made his way back to Lucy, but kept his eyes fixed on the doorway and quietly gave her instructions. “Get on the floor and hide behind the bed.”
Lucy gave him a questioning look, “Why? What is it?” 
“Someone’s here.”
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jcolden · 3 years ago
Text
WHILE YOUR PRAYING HANDS ARE UP
     The apartment felt emptier than it had in a long time. All the lights were off, and he was too high up for the ones on the street to really make a difference, but he didn’t switch any on as he went, first to the kitchen for a half-empty bottle of bourbon, then to his bedroom for a new shirt. He drank and paced, back out to the living room, emptying the little flask-shaped thing faster than what was probably wise. Always more shit, and maybe this distance that was growing between him and Queenie was natural. Maybe he should just stop pushing. Maybe it was God or the fucking universe trying to tell him that you’re meant to be alone — as if he didn’t get the fucking message the first time. With a furious growl, Julian whipped around and hurled the empty bottle at the brick wall to his left, where it burst into a thousand pieces, raining across his floor in a hail of shattered glass.
     Out. He needed to get out. His phone was already in his pocket. He shoved a fold of silver into another, patting himself down for weapons. Nothing big enough, nothing… his fingers curled around a grip sticking out of the waistband of his black jeans, warm where it had pressed against his lower back. Arin’s gun. He pulled it out, his hold tightening for a moment as he stared at it in the gloom that shrouded his apartment, then he smacked it down onto the kitchen counter and left it there, off in search of what he’d decided he really needed: a twin pair of karambits, ivory like tusks and even more lethal.
                                                                     * * * * *
     At first, he thought he’d gotten the wrong house. The whole neighborhood was dark, rundown, the buildings crowded closely together and largely unnumbered, so it wouldn’t have surprised him. Trash leaking from the ripped bags piled up next to cans and dumpsters had been trod flat, plastered to the sidewalk by people passing by, cigarette butts and roaches and beer caps laying out in the open. This close to the slums, it didn’t matter.      Julian knocked again, and finally the door opened, a large, bald man who filled almost the entire frame coming into view, scowling at him.      “Who are you? What do you want?”    “X marks the spot,” Julian said, indicating a red letter spray-painted on the peeling plaster on the side of the building.      “Seven-fifty for newcomers, boy. Cough it up.”    “I’m not here to watch.”      A deep rumble that somewhat resembled a laugh rose from the man’s chest, but he stepped aside, letting Julian pass into the hallway. The stranger lifted a hand, bringing him to a stop, and as he was patted down, he looked around, glancing over his shoulder and seeing that what he’d thought was a peephole in the door was, in fact, a camera. The lamp on the ceiling cast a sickly green hue over the unfurnished hallway, and the whole rest of the house was silent as the grave — not a sound from anywhere.    “Alright,” the bouncer said, handing his daggers back as he straightened. “Follow me.”
     Led through the hallway and out into a narrow, fenced-in back alley, Julian rounded a corner and descended a staircase in the bouncer’s wake, then emerged into a crowded basement. The air was soupy with sweat, smoke, and alcohol, voices filling up the space in stark contrast to the silence outside. There was no music.      “Briar!” the bouncer called out, locking eyes with someone in the crowd, near what seemed to be a bar. “Got a live one for you.”      As Briar sauntered closer, he wandered off, leaving Julian to fend for himself in a room of sharks and hyenas, none of which meant a lick to him. They were there, paying to see what he’d come to draw: blood.      “Hello, stranger,” Briar greeted, a deep alto timbre from a heart-shaped face, hair cropped close, dressed in a plain white tank and jeans, tattoos up and down their arms, piercings all over both ears. “What is your name?”    “Julian.” He was over the theatrics already, but would endure for the sake of not causing a fucking scene.      “Julian,” they repeated, popping the lid off a small compact and rubbing their thumb into the red powder there before ceremoniously dragging it down his face – from his forehead, over his eye, across his cheek and all the way to his jaw in a line. “Marked for death. A little young, aren’t we? Had enough of life? Or are we at the end of our rope in a different way? Desperate?”      He shrugged. Briar looked five years his senior at most, but he refrained from comment. After all, they weren’t the one participating.      “Either way… Drinks and favors are on the house.” They started retreating, gliding a hand over his shoulder. “Enjoy your last hour.”
     He didn’t. He had another drink — two — but fury and need were still crackling through him, forging impatience and restlessness in his bones, setting him on edge. He didn’t speak to anyone, and was approached only once, by one of the favors the host had mentioned, clad only in a sparkly thong and dangerously high heels.      “Hey, boo,” she’d said, trailing a finger up his arm. “You up for some fun?”    “Not with you.” He’d glanced at her, but she’d seemed undeterred.      “You sure? How about my friend?” She’d indicated over her shoulder at some other skinny thing with dark makeup smeared around his eyes, sporting three silver rings in each ear, one in his nose, and one on his lower lip.    “Maybe after.” His response had amused her, a trill of laughter left in her wake as she’d slipped back into the crowd, and he’d returned to his drink. Agitated, buzzing, the oppressive claustrophobia of a wall of bodies closing in around him.
     Now, Briar was coming for him, two words in passing and a faint caress across his cheek before they disappeared in the crowd again, no doubt in search of the other fighters: “Time’s up.”
     Julian could feel eyes on him as he approached the lowered pit in the center of the room, and no wonder, with the red slash of color marking him for what he was. No announcer called attention to the start of the event, no lights were flashing, no one was cheering or making a racket, and still there was no music — in fact, a hush fell over the basement, the din of voices muted to faint muttering and whispers as everyone directed their attention towards the pit.      It wasn’t deep; the rest of the floor was at about knee-height when he’d descended into it, and it was as if someone had cut the foundation away, hard-packed dirt underneath his boots instead of concrete.      Another man entered, tall and stocky, with the same red line, clutching a spiked baseball bat, and he looked about as on edge as Julian felt, but the brunet could tell it wasn’t anger, like with him. It was fear. Desperation, like Briar had said, and it made sense. For most people who signed up for shit like this, it was a last resort. Usually, they were in debt, owing people who would take their limbs off if they weren’t paid, and death was as good a way out as the payday that came with winning. A third appeared, middle-aged, tired-looking, holding what appeared to be an ordinary kitchen cleaver, and Julian almost felt bad for him. Almost. He removed the karambits from their sheaths at his lower back, hooking his index fingers into the rings. Sweat was beading on the middle-aged man’s forehead. Briar had materialized at the edge of the pit, looking down at them. There was a glint in her eyes, but she didn’t smile.      “Begin.”
     There was a split second in which the three of them looked at each other — the other two frozen, maybe, but Julian was deciding which one to dispatch first: the biggest threat, or the easiest kill. Without devoting much thought to it, he went for the latter, lunging forward and hooking both daggers into the man’s abdomen before he even had a chance to move, his eyes widening in shock as Julian wrested the curved blades upward and they ripped through flesh and skin, the force of it lifting the man off the ground. A snarl tore its way up Julian’s throat, rage and exertion, blood gushing onto the front of his shirt as he wrenched the two of them around, just in time for the spiked bat to crash into his victim’s skull instead of his own.      The nails stuck, lodged into bone. Julian yanked his karambits free, soaked in red, and the gurgling remains of the owner of the cleaver plummeted to the ground, pulling the bat along with him as he landed with a thud. The stocky man stepped onto the corpse’s chest and pulled; Julian took half a second to admire his work — parallel rifts up the torso, the flimsy fabric of the pale blue, sweat-stained button-up that covered it drenched in blood, a loop of slimy intestine, pulled out along with his blades…      Freed, the bat came sweeping at him, a single motion as it was yanked out, then brandished in a rising arch at Julian’s jaw. He dropped to his knees, dodging underneath the stocky man’s arm while simultaneously slicing his armpit with the dagger in his left hand, and, as he landed, a backhanded stab behind him that plunged the blade into the back of his opponent’s knee. It buckled under him with no resistance, a shout ringing out through the room as he knelt, followed by another grunt of pain when he landed. Julian was on his feet again, on his way back around to face the man he was about to kill when something slammed into his upper arm. Pain raced all the way to his fingertips, his grip on the karambit loosening, and he would’ve lost it if it wasn’t for the fact that it was hooked onto his finger; not that it mattered much, because his entire arm was limp with agony. Infuriated, he planted a boot in the center of the man’s chest and pushed, his right hand crossing his body to cut the underside of his arm, the bat slipping from his grip and landing somewhere behind the brunet. Another flash decision, and he’d rather kill this stranger with his own weapon, so he whirled around, not even making it a step before he felt a grip around his ankle.
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     Flattened dirt flew up to meet him, and though he managed to catch himself, the impact still knocked the air from his lungs. Julian tried to crawl, but it was no use, because the piece of shit wasn’t letting go. Twisting, he kicked him in the face, then wriggled forward, ditching his knives before his fingers curled around the leather-wrapped handle of the bat. Pulling it towards himself, he used it to stand, then raised it from the ground and swung, turning around as he did.      The stranger was further away than he’d expected, in the middle of an attempt to get to his feet, and the bat collided with his jaw and mouth instead of his temple, blood and teeth flying. Julian struck again, this time where he’d intended, sending his opponent to the floor. Again. A sickeningly satisfying fucking crunch. Again, what had once been a head now a collapsed, crimson ruin of bone fragment, blood, and brain matter. He let go. The bat clattered at his feet. His chest rose and fell heavily as he regained his breath, fury burning through him like a wildfire. Slowly, he paced over to where he’d dropped his daggers and picked them up, wiping them off on his thigh before sliding them back into their sheaths. His arm was throbbing, and when he looked at it, he saw the trails of blood that had trickled from the cluster of holes in his skin, all the way down to his wrist, interspersed with the spatter from the second man to die and the gushing spray from the first. He was covered. His arms and chest got the worst, but he felt the droplets on his face, too, tasting metal when his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Over in a heartbeat. Over in two heartbeats, and yet it’d been exactly what he fucking needed.
     Now… booze? Numb the rest of his fucking discomfort. Drown it. He climbed out of the pit, and Briar was there, slipping a small memory device into his palm.      “Welcome back, and congratulations. Quite a show.”      Julian almost handed it back to them, about to say he didn’t give a shit about the money, but decided against it, dropping it into his pocket instead. “You got a bandage?”      “I can arrange that.”      He nodded, turning away and heading over to the bar, where he demanded a bottle of their strongest liquor, smacking the fold of bills he’d brought down onto the counter. The bartender presented him with sixty percent whiskey that Julian snatched by the neck and dragged off the counter. Some other goon appeared with a roll of gauze secured with a safety pin, and he took that, too, before making for the exit. Emptiness stretched out inside him, vast and dark and cold, his gaze focused ahead without meeting that of a single person he passed on his way. Out the door, up the stairs, around the corner — fresh air — back inside and down the crudely lit hallway, where the bouncer looked up from his phone to watch him approach.      “Fuck me,” he said, laughing again. Julian ignored him and pushed through the door, thinking dully as he peeled the foil wrapping off the mouth of the bottle he was holding that some homeless junkie had probably either stolen or looted his car. He drank as he walked until he reached it – surprisingly intact — and unlocked it with a touch to the handle on the driver’s side door, dropping sideways into the seat. Wedging the bottle between his legs, he rolled his sleeve up, then leaned forward a little as he lifted the whiskey, taking a breath in. Another sip for courage. Fuck. Tipping the bottle, he poured a splash over his punctures, watching the blood thin as it ran down his arm and dripped onto the sidewalk between his legs. Searing fucking agony, his teeth clamped together, but he kept pouring, just a little more, before lowering the bottle, gasping in a breath. Carefully, he set it down beside the mess he’d made, grimacing as he bandaged his arm tightly, fastening it with the same pin that had held the roll together. The burn remained. He picked the bottle up and drank, wanting it in his throat instead. In his lungs. A cigarette. His pack was in the console; he felt around for it, mostly blindly, but found it and got one lit, wondering as he sat there whether he should go back. Tell that fucking hooker with the lip ring to show him a good time after all. But he didn’t want the questions. The looks. There were sure to be more shows lined up in that basement, as unsavory or worse than the one he’d just put on, and he wasn’t interested. If he could, he would’ve sat there, half in and half out of his car until the sun rose, drinking and smoking, staring into nothing, but even in his peripheral, in the reflection in the window on his door, he could see that he looked like hell, and it was beginning to dry. His arm throbbed and stung. Julian pulled his legs into the car, closed the door, and drove.
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applepieandacherrycoke · 5 years ago
Text
Golden red
hey! I finally wrote a thing. Based off what (the amazing and wonderful) @thehaemanthus said about the kinda person Cassius should be with (In their opinion.) Not exactly sure where this went, but its a thing now!
read it here on ao3!
301,176 + 215,097 + 258,264 + 381,451 + 123,220 (Might want to talk to the McKoy about that, they've been turning out less as of late, might have some problems with the dirt) + 345,632 + 295,746 + 303,204 + 275,947 + 237,745 =
Math went through Nellie’s head constantly, to the point where sometimes it takes effort to remember to breathe. Numbers and equations knocked around her skull and zipped around like flies, barely giving her a chance to remember them before a new swarm flashed by. She did though, remember them. The adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, keeping one number, discarding another, keeping the probability in mind as the threat of her discovery loomed over her head like the gear-chewer. All with the skill and grace of a Blue.
2,737,482 / 11 (keep the “discard” in case a rainy day comes. Talk to McLaughlin about where to hide it this time, we don't want a repeat of last time) = 248,862 x 10 = 2,488,620 
She rolled the number around her head like a marble, staring up at the ceiling as she layed in the obnoxiously large master bed that threatened to swallow her whole in the pure amount of fluff. She had to admit she liked the comforter, the big thick heavy thing being impossibly nice to curl up with. The sheets were another story, giving her the terrible feeling that she had when her barn was asked to grow cotton in their off year. She despised the stuff. Made her feel like her teeth were vibrating and her ears were stuffed.
240,398 + 338,903 + 244,089 + 400,032 (damn good harvest for McCall, it’s nice to see them bounce back) + 358,904 + 238,490 + 234,549 + 233,420 + 358,934 + 258,089 =
    She should really get up, maybe go get some coffee. It was kinda funny, less than eight seasons ago she would have killed a man for even a sip of the warm shit juice. Now it was something she expected. Granted back then, she would have gotten killed for even looking at the place she lived in now. All the same, she sits up, being blinded by thick red curly hair as it fell on her face, causing her to huff. She moved it aside in vain, shuffling out of the room and being greeted with the house staff, all panicking like the world was ending.
2,905,808/ 11 =264164.36… x 10 = 2,641,643.0, 153,023 more than sector four
Quietly, as to not interrupt them as they scurried and scrambled doing who knows what, she made her way to do her single house chore. Feeding the fish in the strange tank of water and sand the Gold before her had owned. She couldn't tell you for the life of her why; the fish were far too small to eat, and it seemed like a hassle to take care of, but he did and she’d feel bad if she just let them all die. Especially since the staff seemed to enjoy staring at it when they got the chance, watching the fish duck and weave between the rocks. So, grabbing a nearby step stool, she made her way to the fridge. Climbing her way to the freezer and pulling out the small cup of frozen food, careful not to get her oversized sleeves dirty. She closed the door, slogging her way back to the tank with the step stool in tow. Climbing up once again and filling the cup with the salty water inside.
She added for sector six, twirling the twos and threes, and chewing on the seven and eights. Technically she didn't have to do this, she already got the paperwork in. but still it was good to keep in mind. Good to keep messing with. It keeps her busy. It keeps her sharp, not that she really needs it.
    She sloshed the cup around, slowly breaking apart the food and sprinkling it back into the tank watching in slight amusement as the fish began to tear into it. Gently setting the cup next to the stool so the staff could pick it up, she made her way through the hallway and out into the world. Descending the stairway of the large hill the house perched on, she made her way to the local square. Giving vague waves to the Greys on watch and not really paying attention as she lets her feet carry her to the elevator. Descending to home.
Dividing the millions, the seven digit number breaking into pieces, before she smashed them back together.  Ripping and tearing and smashing and comparing. Keeping one number in mind, keeping families and children in her head as the bushels don't split quite evenly. There's quite a lot a person can do with corn, and food is probably the most important.
    She yawned and stretched as the elevator took her down, down, down to the cavernous tunnels below. The artificial sunlight shining dully from holes in the ceiling and walls all the way down the path. She pressed a button on the far side of the elevator, and smiled as a cart came racing to her. The little four wheeling buggy being mostly used by the ranchers, and bringing them down to the tunnels might have been the best idea she's ever had. She enters it, and speeds off, getting closer and closer to the massive barn of McFly, probably. They were closest, maybe, but she was still getting used to their being so many barns and tunnels. Each slightly different than hers. Sure enough, however, as she got closer the large painting of a fly made its way into view, painted crudely but proudly on the side of the metal building. 
She makes her way inside, the door always unlocked, and heading straight to the kitchen, a pot already made and still hot. She made herself a mug, using one of their pure white guest ones, and she took a warm and grateful sip. She closed her eyes, letting the slightly bitter taste and the absolutely wonderful smell wash over her. Lulling her into a sense of peace. Or well, as peaceful as you could get with her.
2,521,603 / 11 = 229,236.640 x -
    “Nellie!” someone shouted, causing her to jump and almost spilled her coffee. She turns, scowling as two men run in, one of them being the plowman of McFly. He was a buggy man, with grays in his hair and scars over his lips. He was admittedly nicer than most plowmen in his sector, but the man couldn't play poker if his life depended on it. A damn shame if there ever was one.
    “By the Vale, what was that for!” she hisses, cupping her mug protectively in her mits as both men loomed over her, (they easily had half a foot on the poor girl. McGraws tend to come out small).  “Bloodyhell y’all, way to make a girl think your tryin’ to kill her.”
“Nellie, where the fuck have you been?” The plowman shot back to interrogate her, before the Grey he was with interrupted him. He had been one of the good ones, back before. The only reason he was still alive, being honest. At least in her book. Mcfly would probably have a very different answer, but he knew the grizzled man better.
“Wait. You were wearing that last time I saw you.” he pointed out, and she avoided his gaze. “McGraw, what day is it?” 
“... Tuesday?” she asked, carefully as she played with the sleeve of the oversized sweater she wore as a dress. She winced at the exasperation and confusion that grew on their faces.
“Mcgraw what the fuck.” the Grey mumbled, as Mcfly buried his face in his hands and groaned in disappointment. She would have shot back about when they held back a meeting for almost two hours because the pair of them were burying their tongue in the other's throat, but immediately ruled against it. Mcfly had told her that in confidence, and the only reason he was married to the rude snobby bitch of a woman was a favor to an old friend. It'd be a low blow to use it against him, against either of them.
“Look! Its harvest! I've got a lot on my mind, n’ so what if I'm a day or two off.” she defended instead, taking another sip of her coffee.
“Nellie it's Saturday!” Mcfly groaned, “Look, we’ll talk about that later, right now we have bigger problems. Somethin’ crashed in the pastures.” 
    She blinks, setting down her cup, taken aback. She looked between the two, “Did we lose anythin’?” 
    “Everythin’ seems accounted for, but it scared McGee half to the mud pit. Spooked their horses too.” McFly told her, as the Grey handed her a pad. On it she saw feed of something entering her atmosphere, with a few scribbles with numbers beside them. She nodded, pretending she knew what she was looking at, before handing it back to him. 
    “Well that certainly ain't good.” she said evenly. “Why haven't they talked to me about it?”
    “They’re tryin’, they’re at the townhall waitin’ for you, brainless.” McFly snapped. And she puts her hands up in surrender. 
    “Fine! Fine. ‘m goin’, ‘m goin’. No need to yell at me.” she grumbled, grabbing her cup and making her way to the door.
    “No ya don’t! Those cups don't leave this house n’ you know that!” McFly reprimanded, and she scowled at him.
    “You ain't my pa!” she hisses. All the same she takes one big chug of what's left and puts the mug in the sink, rinsing it out. Then she leaves, the two men in tow. Picking up her calculations where she left off. 
Tear, rip. Sector seven always gets a little more than everyone else, if only ‘cause they make the best ‘shine this side of the galaxy. The stuff could knock a lesser man flat on his ass but if you can handle it nothing burns faster nor quite as good. Not to mention sector seven was very generous, despite the fact that technically it was still illegal.
    It didn't take all that long to get back to the surface, much less town hall. Admittedly the fight she had with McFly over the results of the last derby did help speed things along. She wasn't five feet away and already she could hear panicked shouting and arguments breaking out, causing her to give an annoyed look to McFly. If only in habit. It wasn't her first gathering with all the plowmen present, but it doesn't mean she likes it. All the shouting and demanding made it hard for her to focus. 
    Sucking it up, she walked inside the hall, and all heads turned to her. Some men nodded their heads, others whispered to their companions. Her plowman was missing, (not much of a surprise) and her girls waved her over as they stood with McGee. She had met the eight women back when she had conned the old house McOester out of their laurel. They had come, like they always do, looking for food and supplies for their families and barns, with nothing but their… to offer. Nellie, her brother's sister to her core, thought this was absurd, and just let them head out with what they needed. They had been by her side since, and without them she'd be in the mud pit seven times over.
    She made her way over to them, giving them a comforting smile in greeting. She gained a few sarcastic side curtsy in return, before Nellie’s attention was taken by the McGee and a little girl, who seemed to be clinging to her father for dear life.
“Nellie! Thank the Vale, you're here. It's worse than we thought.”
“What, did we lose some horses?” she asked, frowning.
“Worse. We’ve got one of ‘em goldilocks out there.” he admitted, causing everyone in the room to burst into panicked mumbling and whispering, one that made her head ache. “The kid saw it with her own two eyes.” he swore to her, scowling at them. They only murmured louder, soft words of doubt and panic. It was quickly becoming too much for her.
“Quiet!” she shouted at them, turning to the girl, as she clung to her father’s leg even tighter. “Tell me.”
“It was massive.” she whispered, like mentioning him any louder would cause him to appear. “Me, a-and Daniel were just goin’ to see what the sound was, n’ then- then we see this ship. N’ there-there was a guy there, workin’ on it. It was big, n’ tall, n’ it’s hair- it was like Ron-”
“Ey! We don't say that name, Milly.” her father scowled, “You know that”
“But it was!” she defended right back. “It was yellow n’ curly, n’ it had that sign on it’s hand! It was one of ‘em!”
Nellie pinches the bridge of her nose; she had hoped to never see a goldielocks again. Before she was able to respond, McKoy scoffed loudly, gaining the attention of everyone in the room.
    “Oh please, you called all of us here for the stories of some bloodydamn kid?” he sneered, leaning against a wall. “it's clearly a joke, n’ a pisspoor fuckin’ joke at that. Ain’t been a Gold round here in years, n’ yall know it.”
“Does she look like she’s fucking jokin’.” her father shot back, his daughter pale and shaken. Mckoy took a step towards him, smaller than the man but plenty intimidating if you didn't know any better.
“Watch your tone, son. Your speakin’ to a plowman, bloodydamn it.” he growled, and McGee stepped between them, getting up in McKoy’s face.
“Really?” McFly snorted. “After your harvest, you still call yourself that?”
“You wanna go, fly boy?” he turned, snarling. And Nellie was quickly utterly done with all of this, especially as the faint sound of harmonizing creeped into the air. She could hear soft warm ups of legs rubbing together to and fro and it sent a terrible shiver up her spine. 
“That's enough! I didn't come here to watch a dick measurin’ contest, thank y’all very much. Mckoy, I know you're scared, but that doesn't mean you need to take it out on the rest of us. McFly, low blow. You’re better than that.” she snarled at them both, tired. The singing faded, as did the crowd. She couldn't help her relief. “Now you lot sit tight, chill the fuck out and let me go check, yeah?” 
“You sure about that, kid?” McFly asked, sharing uncertain looks with his fellow plowmen.
“You don't have to if you don't want.” McKoy mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck “We could go with ya.”
“Nah, I've got this. Just to check it out” she assured, despite it being less than convincing, she turns to Mcgee “It's a little south of here, ain’t it?”
“Well yeah, but what if there really is a goldilocks,-” Mcgee starts, before the little girl interrupts him.
“It is real! Daniel and I saw it! It was working on its ship n’ everything!” she demanded, before her father hushes her. 
“If” McGee reinstates, “there really is a goldilocks, are you sure you'll be alright?”
“Of course. If it exists and if it causes a problem, well momma didn't raise no bitch.” Nellie nods, shrugging. “I've killed a Gold before and bloody damn it all I'll do it again. Any questions?” No one spoke, no one dared. She had made a pretty good point, and if they were being honest, pissing off Nellie anymore then she already was, was never a good idea. “Thought so. I'm borrowing a cart.”
With that, she left. getting into one of the carts parked to the side of the hall and speeding on south, to whatever the hell crashed into her planet. Rolling over the soft green meadows where the animals graze and roam. The breeze whipped through her hair, and it was almost inevitable that she was to zone out.
Chew, gnaw, gnash them with her teeth. Rip the 5s in half, strip 3s like paper, roll thousands on her tongue. It's probably a good idea to start planting other plants eventually. Pumpkins seem handy, so does wheat. She knows better than to do zucchini, not after what happened with McGregor’s off year.  But maybe soybeans. Or peppers. Maybe start weaning off corn. It's not like they'd notice, not really.
    She used to come up with her brother, when they were able to sneak away. Wayne would've got whipped half to the mudpit if anyone found out, but he loved the stars too much to care. Though she never would admit it, she just thought it was nice to get out of the tiny cramped tunnels. It was where she learned how to play poker, under the pretty night sky.
2s and 11s and different things to notice, funny numbers hidden in layers and distorted to the point others couldn't recognize them if they tried. Eights been having a hard year, and she wonders if she could convince them to nurture trees. Apples, lemons, oranges, stuff like that. They've always been much hotter than the rest of the planet. Might as well make use of it. Besides, how nice would it be to have access to oranges from their own backyard. On that matter maybe she could convince ten to add an apple orchard to the pastures. But where in the vale would she get something like that.
    He was a terrible player, his tells were obvious, and he thought she needed to be gone easy on. Still, he taught her the rules, taught her about tells, and let her know that people thought she needed the help. He taught her puppy dog eyes, he taught her the ways people hid their guilt, and more than anything he taught her the value of pure dumb luck. He was a bloody damn good teacher too.
283748 + 338402 + 3705837 + 280928 + 284334 + 394730 + 345394 + 345736 + 382734 + 284759 =
    It was easy to think of him, even when it was just looking out a window. Or when she caught sight of the scars she made on the other plowmen. She can still feel her fingernails in their skin, screaming murder as she tore into flesh and blinked the tears out of her eyes. Her gaze never leaving the taught rope even when the fiddles started. She can still feel the rough unsanded wood of the broken table tear at her palm as she swung it with everything she’s got. It’s other shards layed around, or in the man. She laughed then, as her bat turned red, and so did her vision. She cried then too.
283748 + 338402 + 3705837 + 280928 + 284334 + 394730 + 345394 + 345736 + 382734 + 284759 =
    There will always be a part of her that will be bitter. Bitter that they screamed for her, and not for him. Bitter that it took so long, took so many of her friends and family, to finally smash a few Greys brains in. Bitter that she had to bury so many of her people, and she couldn't even bury him with them. Bitter that those stupid Greys had the audacity to get their worthless hides dumped in the same place her brother rested-
283748 + 338402 + 3705837 + 280928 + 284334 + 394730 + 345394 + 345736 + 382734 + 284759 =
283748 + 338402 + 3705837 + 280928 + 284334 + 394730 + 3453-
    The ship came into view. A small thing, comparatively, that looked like it was better suited for a junkyard than ever being in space. Even when the only thing she had to compare was the scrap heaps that sends the corn to a more important planet. The paneling was peeled off, there were sharp bits of metal jutting out in random places, and one part of the thing was still on fire. That's not even mentioning the bullet holes.
    And sure enough, there was a goldilocks. A big one, (a shirtless one), tinkering with something or other, and even from there she could see this was extremely frustrating for him. To the point he didn't even notice her get closer. His hair was curly and thick, and his body was covered in scars. He had a cleft in his chin, and she got the feeling he thought himself attractive. She also noticed that he wasn't armed, which was probably the weirdest thing about him. She cleared her throat, and gold finally turned to Nellie, his golden eyes taking in her red form.
    “‘Lo, Red. Do you know anywhere to fix this ship?”
    Nellie's eyes flicked to the scar on his cheek. She knew that it was important; how escaped her, but she knew that Ron certainly didn't have one. 
    “Might know a place.” she admitted, careful to keep her poker face. The gold doesn’t speak, waiting for something. The staff once told her that Ron had demanded that they call him, something or other. By the vale they even tried to call her the same shit. She had, of course, shut that down asap, and if she couldn't have been bothered to remember it. Instead, she waits for him to get over himself. It wastes much more time then she would have liked
    “What planet is this, anyhow? My datapad isn’t showing anything.” he asked, shaking himself off and looking around the wide fields
    “Shame,” she scoffed, as if it wasn't her savior. “Well, 'm afraid your guess is as good as mine. Couldn't tell ya.”
It was a lie, a pretty harmless one all things considered, but she had to suppress a smile when he bought it. “Prime. Absolutely marvelous.” He huffed sarcastically. Before sighing. “Well I suppose you wouldn’t, now would you?”
That caught her off guard. She blinked, looking up at him like he just grew a second head. He didn’t seem to notice. “’m sorry?” She tried.
“Oh don’t be. It’s understandable.” He told her, cordially. “I’m sure your superior could help me well enough. Your ArchGovernor preferably, But I suppose any old bronzie would do.”
”I don’t-“ she tried, finding herself getting more annoyed by the minute. It had been a very long time since someone had talked over her, and even then she was quick to smash a table over his head. He just walked past her in his pacing.
“And after that, my goodman, you can take my ship to be repaired. Sooner the better, obviously.” he said, and she sighed. Closing her eyes, “Say who is your arch governor anyhow?”
“... Me.” She told him bluntly, annoyed and caught off guard  and more than ready to smack something. He hesitated, staring at her, before he snorted, rolling his eyes.
“Funny, but not the time Red.” he scoffed, “Lysander and I need to get back into space. Not to mention this planet looks... less than sanitary.”
“Excuse me.” she hissed. Staring at him dead in the eye. All notions of a poker face gone.
“Well, no offense to you, Red, it's not your fault of course. But it's like the Golds in charge designed this place to look like a shithole-” he starts, before Nellie saw red and smacked him with everything she possibly could. Even if she did have to jump, it was enough to send him reeling. Which was plenty for her.
“OW! By Jove what was that for?” he hissed glaring at her. Seeming startled when she glared right back. “You dare strike a-”
“Shut it!” she snapped. “N’ listen close cause ‘M only sayin’ this once-!”
“No, you listen to me, Red. I am Cassius Au Bellona, an Olympic Knight and a member of the peerless scarred! I will not sit around and get told off by a- a Red of all things!” he shouted, causing her to take a step back, a sneer growing. “Now take me to your archgovener right this instant or I will have you hang-”
“I AM THE ARCHGOVENER YA PISS DRINKIN’ BASTARD!” she screamed at him, pissed beyond all belief. “AND I DID NOT SPEND FOUR YEARS OF MY LIFE DOIN’ MY DAMNDEST AT IT TO BE TREATED LIKE ANYTHIN’ LESS, YOU HEAR ME!? SON OF A BITCH!”
 What happened next was probably the most terrifying staring contest in Nellie's 50 seasons of existence. Or it would be, but Nellie was too busy silently berating herself over the lack of grace on what should've been her punchline. Really, “son of a bitch” is the best you've got? She didn't even call him one she just shouted it out like an angry grandpa who got kids tracking dirt through his house. By the vale that made her feel old.
“It's goin’ to take years to get that scrap heap off the ground.” she huffed, remembering that he was there after a moment “N’ that's not even considering that our stuff ain’t the best. You'd get there faster if you walked. Luckily for you, though, there's a ship that carries our supplies to Cerce, and she comes round every half year like clockwork. And 'm sure she'd be happy to take you along with her next time.”
“Next time.” he repeated, frowning harder at the sudden shift. She nodded.
“Ya just missed her. Sorry to say, space boy, you’re gonna be stuck here a minute.” she shrugged, and he cursed under his breath. Turning away, he kicked something and silently cursed his rotten luck. Nellie just waited, letting him get it out of his system before continuing. “Now come on, not much daylight left, n’ supper will get cold.”
“I’m sorry?” he asked, face coiled in confusion, and she had to smile.
“No need to be sorry, baby. That shit heap’s still on fire, and I'm worried Im’ma get cut just lookin’ at the thing. Ain’t no way in hell I’m lettin’ you and- whoever the hell Lysander is- sleep in that. What kinda host would I be?” she shrugged. She then shooed him  “Now scoot your boot, Goldilocks. It's hard to drive at night.”
He hesitated. “Are you certain-?” he started before she stopped him with a snort. 
“Spaceman I live alone in the biggest house on the bloody-damn planet, I have room for a guest or seven.” she told him, giving him a look. “I wouldn't have offered if I didn't.”
They entered a staring contest, red meeting gold with much less heat than before. (at least, on Cassius’ side) As terrible as the goldbrows were, she couldn't help but be a little curious about this one. The last time she was this close to one, well she was smashing his brains in, and he wasn't nearly as impressive as this one, that was for sure. Meanwhile he was probably debating cutting her into pieces or something like that.
“Fine then.” he said finally, before storming off to get whoever Lysander was. He was a prick, Nellie quickly decided, somewhat offended that he didn't even say thank you. But she's dealt with pricks before, even ones that could kill her with a snap. At least this time she had some modicum of ground.
182 days x 12 hours = 2184 hours x 60 minutes = 131,040 minutes x 60 seconds = 
She had a feeling that it was going to be a long year. 
… Might want to give sector seven more corn.
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allfandomxreader · 7 years ago
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Living the Dream
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Pairings: Joe Keery x Fem!Reader Words: 2,808 Summary: You’re an assistant to John Pelzer, editor-in-chief for one of the biggest magazines in New York: Pastiche. You just so happen to run into Joe Keery who’s apart of Pastiche’s next issue. Warnings: Language A/N: Here’s the beginnin of my new series! I hope you all enjoy it. I would love any feedback you guys have for me to make this and all my other writings better. Part: 1/6
Masterlist
Aromas of coffee float through the air, instantly calming your wild brain. You ran through today’s agenda step by step for the third time, just to make sure you don’t forget anything. Your foot taps against the hardwood impatiently as you scroll absentmindedly through a few emails. Your eyes glance to the barista very few seconds who’s taking forever to prepare the simple drinks you ordered.
Normally, you wouldn’t mind the wait. Being in the calm atmosphere would usually ease the abundance of tasks you needed to get done, it would bring you quiet, clarity even. Today, however, the sluggish movement from all sides makes you want to jump from your skin. The schedule was far to busy for your time to be wasted, waiting for coffee.
When she finally calls your name, you’re quick to make it to the counter mumbling a ‘thank you’ before spinning around. You can’t even make a step before someone crashes into you, spewing hot coffee onto your blouse. The world around you moves slowly as the hot liquid stings your skin, you don’t dare to open your eyes knowing you’d most likely flip your shit on whoever ran into you. “Shit!” You and the stranger hiss at the same time. A man shoves napkins into your hands, profusely apologizing for the mishap.
“Please, let me buy you another.” He proposes as you dab the flimsy paper against the white cloth. You quickly flick your wrist to expose the dainty leather watch, groaning at the little time you had left before Mr. Pelzer’s meeting began.
“There’s no time!” You grumble not bothering to look at the man as you shove past him and into the busy streets of Manhattan. You trudge through crowds of people fuming with as the stress consumes you. It feels as if the whole world collapsing around you and you need to fix all before noon.
Like every morning, you’re greeted with interns rushing around the large office building. Some flick through paperwork, others sit with phones pressed between their shoulder and ear, but most tap away on their desktops at each of their desks. Whether they’re writing their columns, editing, or designing layout options, you’ll never know. You just hope they're doing it correctly so you don’t have to fix it later.
“Y/N, thank god you’re here!” A familiar voice calls after you just when you reach the elevator, “Whoa, what happened to you?” Naomi eyeballs your coffee covered blouse with wide eyes as the doors open.
“Good morning to you too,” You chuckle stepping into the small space with your best friend right on your heels. “I was meaning to grab coffee for Mr. Pelzer but as you can see,” You gesture to your stained clothes.
“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” She smiles, “Mr. Pelzer’s meeting already started, he gave me your assignments, I put them on your desk,” Naomi explains before rummaging through her large book bag, pulling out a floral blouse before shoving it into your hands.
“Have I ever told you you’re my favorite intern?” You beam at her before taking the fabric.
“Eh,” She shrugs with a smile, “Once or twice,” The two of you exchange a few giggles before parting ways. Your heels click against the tiled floor all the way to your office. Being John Pelzer’s beloved assistant had a lot of perks, one of them being a gorgeous office overlooking the city.
The space around you looks the same as it did the night prior. Your desk remains tidy, each object having a permanent home. A few Magazine’s from Pastiche’s previous years lay scattered along the glass coffee table. You often find yourself flipping through the colorful pages, reminiscing in the success from the company you’re apart of.
You adore your job, even if your title was ‘Assistant’ you know you’re so much more. John always jokes that you’re the backbone of his magazine, which isn’t far from the truth. Working alongside him shouldn’t give you as much power as you have, however, John created the company and he could do anything. He won’t publish anything without passing it by you or asking your opinion. He values everything you bring to the company, so much he sees you more as a partner than an assistant.
You don’t mind, being thrown into New York to follow your dreams was intimidating, especially when the opportunity for working for one of the biggest magazines in the nation arisen. John gave you a sense of family, he taught you almost everything you know. He loved watching you grow over the years as you became more comfortable with the role you had. Without you, John believed the company would be in shambles.
Ringing echoes around the space, pulling you out of your trance and back to reality. You stride over to your desk, quickly pressing the cold phone to your ear. “Y/N Y/L/N speaking.” Your voice is monotonous as you talk into the phone.
“Conference room. Now.” Before you can even get another word in, the line goes dead. You quickly throw on Naomi’s shirt, buttoning the shirt as you make your way out the door, following John’s orders.
“Ah, there she is,” John’s voice booms throughout conference room as you quietly enter. Your approach to going in unnoticed was thrown out the window as all eyes land on you. You awkwardly flash a smile to the expressionless professionals. “Joe, allow me to introduce my assistant, Y/N Y/L/N who put all of this together, Y/N, meet Joe Keery.” John introduces you to the handsome man, he smiles ushering you to shake his hand.
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Keery. Pastiche is glad to have you here,” You reach forward to shake his hand.
“It’s you,” Joe mutters in awe as he looks over your whole body, gently taking your hand in his.
“Excuse me?” Murmurs came from the seated strangers as they listen to the two of you, just as confused as you were.  
“From this morning, I spilled coffee all over you,” Your eyes widen in horror as the pieces fall into place.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You gush, remembering the events of the morning.
“For what?” He chuckles, “It was definitely my fault,” Awkward silence fills the room, you realize your hand is still placed in his. You gently pull away from his grasp, fiddling with your fingers as Joe keeps his eyes locked on you. “Let me make it up to you somehow, when’s your lunch break? I saw a pizza parlor down the street,” Joe rambles, his words float through the air faster than his mind could process them.
“I appreciate the offer, Mr. Keery, but I have a lot of assignments to finish today-” You begin but are promptly interrupted by your boss.
“She’d love to go,” Your heads snap towards the older man, a smile is plastered on his face as he looks between you and Joe, “Naomi will finish the assignments,” He continues, “You’re always here, go have a little fun.”
You find yourself walking through the streets lost in conversation. You’ve only known Joe for a matter of minutes and you already feel like you’ve known him forever. Your laugh bellows over the city’s chaos as he tells a childhood story, he pulls a restaurant door open for you casually following you into the booth of a pizza joint. “And then -shit you not- it jumped out of the tank and into my mouth!” He laughs as you pretend to gag.
“That’s disgusting, I hope you don’t tell everyone that,” You shake your head, laughing at the revolting story.
“Not everyone, only the people I like,” Joe looks over you, trying to read your reaction. Your eyes drop from his, your cheeks grow warm as you laugh to yourself.
“You don’t even know me,” Joe cocks his head to the side, pursing his lips together.
“So, tell me about yourself then.” He leans his elbows on the table, ready to listen to anything you throw his way.
You walked through the streets of Manhattan following the GPS to Pastiche’s building. Nerves make your whole body tremble, you tried your best to hide your shaking hands as you talked to Susan, the kind receptionist, right when you enter the grand building.
You follow her through what seems like a maze just to make it to John Pelzer’s office. The man typed furiously on his keyboard, his face was pulled into a snarl as he looked over whatever he was typing.
“Mr. Pelzer, an assistant is here to begin her two weeks.” Pelzer huffed in response, he didn’t even look up to greet you. Susan bows her head taking her cue to leave, she offers an apologetic smile before exiting his luxurious office.
“Hello, sir, my name is-”
“I didn’t ask for you to speak.” He barked, holding up his hand, still not giving you the decency of eye contact. Tears sprang to your eyes, not used to the treatment he was giving you. “Coffee, now.” He demanded as he clicked with the mouse, suddenly done with typing.
“Sir, I don’t know where the break room is at,” Your voice was meek, scared to get yelled at.
“Well,” He dramatically gasps, “That seems like a you problem. Go!” He screamed as you scurried out of his presence.
The following week was horrid, every conversation left you in tears. Pelzer didn’t seem to have a kind bone in his body, not just towards you but to everyone that worked for him. He always barked orders and demanded absurd things. But you wanted this job more than anything in the world, so if you had to get yelled at just for him to like you, so be it.
You placed his coffee on the corner of his desk, spinning on your heel to leave. “I need these assignments done by tomorrow morning.” He said, smoothy, just as you reached for the door handle. When you turned to look, a stack of papers was being held out to you, thick enough to have Stephen King trembling in fear.
“There’s no way I could get that done.” Your voice was harsher than you intended, at that point, you were so fed up you didn’t even care.
“A shame,” He grunted, dropping the papers back down to his desk with a thud. “You’re dismissed, tell Susan to notify the next assistant, maybe they’ll know how to do what’s asked of them.” You stared at the man, rage boiled inside you, ready to burst.
“No.” This got his attention, his eyes snapped to you, obviously not used to hearing such a simple word. “I know how to do what’s asked of me, I’ve done every task you’ve dropped at my feet. Every. single. one. I knew working here would be busy, but you are asking the impossible. I’m not going to finish those assignments tonight, and if I did, it would be the shittiest quality and I know that you would rather be dead than have shitty content in your magazine. Mr. Pelzer, I have such a high respect for you, I came to New York to learn from you and the only thing I’ve learned is how you like your coffee. I know I’m beyond qualified for this job, and if you don’t realize that someone else will.” You were eerily calm for the amount of anger you possessed.
John slowly removed his glasses and stood from his desk. He calmly walks forward, it felt like ages before he towered in front of you. Finally, a smile formed on his face, he gleefully shook your hand congratulating you on “passing”.
“It was a total cliche, but that’s how it all started,” Joe nods along smiling at your story, lazily munching on his pizza.
“He seems like a tough man. Interns practically ran away from him when we walked through the building.” He chuckles, taking another bite.
“Yeah, he’s terrifying,” You admit, “He’s been through more than people would guess. His son died when he was seven, leukemia.” Joe’s eyes soften as you reveal parts of your boss’ past, “A short while later his wife left him for some rich businessman. Out of spite, he created Pastiche and it became one of America’s most-read magazines.” You chuckle to yourself, “Pastiche is like his child, he wants everything to be perfect, he wants all the right people working for him -the best of the best -I mean hello I work there,” Joe’s face breaks out into a grin, he can’t help but laugh. “Anyways, I see him more as a father or a mentor than a boss, I think he sees me as his child too -although he’d never admit that. He’s a very nice man once you get to know him.”
“I can tell you mean a lot to him,” A smile tugs at your lips just with those simple words.
When the two of you had finished your meal, Joe calmly pays for the food and the two of you set out into the city once again. You take him to all your secret spots, you show him the best tree to sit under in the park and even your favorite cafe that has the best pastries. The two of you don’t disperse until long after the sun dips below the skyscrapers. You exchange farewells before jumping into separate taxis, bound to never see one another again.
You sink into the chair flicking through the assignments Naomi finished while you were away. You scour the printed paper searching for any errors only to find none. You smile at the young interns work, you taught her well through the years she’s been working with the company.
As if on cue, Naomi barges through the door, grinning ear to ear. “Tell me everything!” Her shrill voice disrupts the tranquility as she plops into the small couch, she grabs a magazine out of habit from the coffee table. You eyeball her suspiciously, not understanding her new found excitement --or what you had to do with it. “You went on a date with Joe!” She screeches, clapping her hands together in amusement. She leans her chin onto her hand, awaiting you to reveal the magical day, “Spill!”
“Okay, okay!” You giggle, leaning against the front of your desk, smiling as you remember the feeling of being in his presence. You start from when John ordered you into the conference room and end at the lingering hug he gave you before you stepped into your taxi, you leave out no details as you spill the secrets to the bubbly girl. “But, I doubt I’ll ever see him again. I mean it’s Joe fucking Keery, why would he want to be associated with an assistant?” Naomi shakes her head at your pessimism.
You push yourself away from the table at the sound of the phone, you calmly press the speaker button, signaling the caller to begin talking. “Ms. Y/L/N, you have a call,” Susan’s voice comes out muffled as she informs you.
“Thank you, Susan, put them through please,” You grab a pen from the top drawer, preparing to scribble meetings for John or other contact information. “Y/N Y/L/N speaking,” You say after a quiet beep.
“Y/N, hi! It’s Joe,” Your eyes snap to Naomi, she slaps her palm over her lips in efforts to contain her squeals.
“Mr. Keery!” As much as you try to hold in your excitement, your voice betrays you.
“Please, call me Joe,” He sighs, annoyed that after the third time he’s said this you still call him by his surname. “I had a lot of fun with you yesterday, I was wondering if you’d like to go out again sometime?” You can tell he’s nervous, even through the shitty quality of the phone’s speakers. Naomi frantically waves her arms, her mouth is agape silently screaming. Blonde hair bounces around her head as she tries to answer for you, despite the fact Joe was oblivious to her joy.
“Yes, yes I’d like that,” It takes all you can not to break out and cheer with your best friend, he speaks before you even get the chance.
“Great! I’ll leave you my number and we’ll figure out when we’re both free,” You scribble down the number onto your notepad, promising to call him once you’ve gotten off work to work out the details.
Your eyes are wide when you set the phone back on the receiver, Naomi cocks her eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. She flips her hair over her shoulder as she stands from the couch, “You were saying?” Was the last thing she said before slipping out of your office.  
Tags: @superfrankie111 @empathetic-vibrations
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failaise · 7 years ago
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a green christmas | min yoongi
🎄 summary  🎄
the greenhouse was your spot. you never knew that someone inside it was  always watching you. 
harry potter!au, slytherin!yoongi, gryffindor!reader
SMUT. 
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🎄 .
The soft scent of gingerbread hot chocolate steamed upwards, filling you with the cozy sense of comfort. The greenhouse was kept warm for the plants and beings that lived within it, though you found solace in the cotton blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You wore it over your head like some kind of snuggled child, book in the lap of your crossed legs. In your hand, you held the handle of your hornbeam wand, held just above your knee.
Squinting at the Latin on your novel page, you cleared your throat, held your wand higher and with straighter shoulders. The familiar language rolled off your tongue in unison with the gentle arch of your wrist, sending out tiny spirals of golden light. Your serenity melted with the glow of your patronus, a miniature  mare that began to hop gleefully on the air.
Something behind you cluttered and fell. A vase holding some type of healing flower crashed to pieces. Almost immediately, your patronus vanished with a burst of light, and you hurried to your feet. Blanket still wrapped around your head, you held your arm out, eyes wide in shock.
“Who’s there?” You demanded.
The greenhouse looked empty, you had thought. The glow of night outside illuminated the glass walls with soft light, along with the candles whose flames burned brightly on the stone. The vase was one of many stacked along the tables under heated lamps, intended for tomorrow’s herbology class. The vase was shattered and littered with released soil.
“Who’s there?” You asked again, though this time finding the strength in your voice. Muttering under your breath, the tip of your wand grew as bright as a torch, shedding light across the seemingly vacant greenhouse. It was supposed to be empty, anyway- Christmas was tomorrow, and nearly everybody in Hogwarts had gone home for the holidays.
The air shimmered for a moment, before what looked like a rip in the air muffled the colors around. Emerging from what seemed to be a reflective blanket came a boy with black hair and mischievous eyes, holding his wand in hand. He was as pale as the moon, with slightly reddened cheeks and soft lips tilted in the hint of a smirk.
You halted.
“Min Yoongi?” You wondered, momentarily taken aback by his appearance.
He tilted his head, like a curious cat might. “You know who I am?”
Your face grew hot as you looked for an excuse, anything other than the fact that you’d been completely head over heels with him when you were a fifth year. But that was two years ago, and you never spoke to him.
“I know everybody,” you quickly announced, “it’s my job.”
Yoongi’s lips quirked, “A perfect prefect.”
You hesitated. How did he know you were a prefect?”
“Have you been... watching me?” You blinked, confused. You wondered how often he was in the greenhouse with you, hidden under that hexed blanket. The idea that he’d heard every conversation you’d ever had with yourself,  or every.... you didn’t even want to think about  it.
“Depends,” Yoongi shrugged. His eyes grew tinier under the glare of your wand, yet you held it sturdily.
“On?” You shot back quickly.
“Do you like knowing that I’ve watched you?”  
Your mouth went dry. In your chest, your heart began to beat faster, rushing color into your face and sending nerves into your steady fingers. “No,” you swallowed.
Yoongi took another step forwards, soft as a mouse and quiet over the broken vase. His black eyes searched yours, glowing with mischief in the darkness, scanning your features for any semblance of nervousness.
“Why are you here on Christmas Eve?” Yoongi asked, another step closer.
“Why are you?” You retorted, swallowing.
Yoongi shrugged and spun on his heel, leaning against one of the tables. He waved his hand in the direction of the vase, muttering Latin under his breath, before turning to face you. You watched as the pot resembled in surprise. You knew Yoongi was a powerful wizard, but casting without a wand was a special talent only very driven wizards and witches possessed- you would know.
“I like being alone,” Yoongi declared, seemingly unbothered by the fact. You knew this to be true, but he did have quite a large friend group that tended to lead him around.
“Then there’s your answer,” you slipped your wand into your pocket, letting your blanket fall from your shoulders and fold in your arms. Your book lifted up into your clutch.
Yoongi glanced towards you. “Leaving already?”
“No point in staying,” you smiled at him teasingly, before heading towards the stairwell. Yoongi watched you go, admiring the way your legs strode and the powerful layout of your shoulders. Just as you reached the door, it slammed shut, sending a burst of air back that blew out the glowing candles. You stopped, heart racing and a sudden aching taking over you.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Yoongi’s voice was soft, but strong, like music to your ears that sent a rush of heat down your spine.
“You can’t make me stay,” you turned on your heel, eyeing him sideways.  
“You’re right,” Yoongi tilted his head, smiling softly. His tongue darted out like a serpent’s, swiping along the pillow of his bottom lip. In the darkness, you could’ve mistaken the glint in his eyes as that of a predator’s. “But I can convince you.”
You set your book and blanket down on the table. There was a delightful throb between your thighs now, and a fire in your cheeks that you couldn’t quiet down. The air was warmer you thought, pulsing in unison with the erratic beat of your heart in your chest. Your hair felt heavier, every limb heavier, as if you’d been put under a spell. “And how would you do that?” You asked, your voice suddenly soft and small, shrinking into your skin.
 Yoongi rose from his seat, slowly sauntering in your direction. You turned so that you could face him, watching him walk with his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, that emerald glint of his house emblem glittering spectacularly on the shoulder of his vest. He stopped just inches away from you, dark gaze lowering down onto you. His breath was hot as it reached your neck, moist as his lips teased the sensitive skin there. Careful fingers curled around your jaw, gently caressing your soft cheek. That wet tongue of his swiped across your throat, tasting the area before his lips attached themselves. You sucked in a breath of surprise, instinctively reaching to grab his shoulders, holding tightly as he pushed you backwards, guiding you against the glass wall. His mouth moved like a leech on your neck, undoubtedly bruising you for the next day, as his fingers crawled up your chest, sliding up around your throat. They tightened and your eyes widened, mouth wide at the unexpected action. Inhaling suddenly became more difficult, though the pool between your legs only grew.
 Yoongi’s soft lips moved up, grazing your cheek, your chin, before they found yours. He took advantage of your shocked expression, nearly devouring you with a single kiss. It was soft yet rough, his other hand cradling your head so that the glass didn’t hurt your skull. His tongue slid inside your mouth and beneath your own, tasting chocolate and strawberries. The fingers around your throat unlatched and reached down to your skirt, gently pushing it up your thighs.
 “is this okay?” Yoongi whispered. His voice had become so low and so gravelly that you lost yours, gulping. You opted for a nod. “Out loud, sweetheart,” his lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile, though his eyes were far from amused.
 “It’s okay,” you returned, voice shaky.
 A cat-like grin stretched across his face. Vases flew off the table, shattering here and there as he lifted you up onto the polished wood. His hips pushed between your legs, skirt riding up your thighs as he pressed himself against you. His mouth found yours again, this time with a kiss more feverish and wanton than before. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair and you scooted back, allowing him onto the platform with you. A cat-like grin stretched across his face. Vases flew off the table, shattering here and there as he lifted you up onto the polished wood. His hips pushed between your legs, skirt riding up your thighs as he pressed himself against you. His mouth found yours again, this time with a kiss more feverish and wanton than before. Your fingers tangled themselves in his hair and you scooted back, allowing him onto the platform with you. He crawled atop you, guiding your hips in reverse. His lips moved back to your throat, littering it with tiny, discolored marks. Needy fingers pulled at the buttons of your blouse, threatening to rip them from the fabric. You quickly helped him remove it, revealing the sheer tank top underneath. Hungry eyes gazed over your chest, at the bralette you wore under, black and laced.
 “Who knew...” Yoongi whispered as he pulled the bottom of your tank top from the waist of your skirt. You lifted it up and over your shoulders and tossed it aimlessly into the vague direction of the floor. It was hotter than you remembered it being in the greenhouse, your cheeks flushed and chest as well.
 “You’d be such a naughty girl,” Yoongi continued as he tugged your skirt down your legs. His work had left you in nothing but panties and a bra, shivering under his lustful gaze. Those onyx eyes of his skimmed up your knees, over the swell of your breasts, virtually eating every curve on you up. Lowering himself ever so  slowly, Yoongi kissed along your collarbones, licked underneath your breasts, though his sneaky fingers had begun to slide under the fabric. He lifted it with one strong pull and snapped the back, effectively ripping the bra apart. You couldn’t find it in yourself to scold him as his stare held onto the hardened nature of your nipples. In one sudden movement, he’d attached his mouth to  your breasts, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin. Arousal grew between your legs and you were sure you’d be soaked when he finally found you there. Heart pounding and breath held, you grabbed onto his locks of hair, soft moans escaping your lips. Yoongi looked up to admire the sight of you. Your head was tilted back, your jaw flexed and your eyes shut, swollen lips pursed as you spread your legs wider and pulled him closer. A dangerous thought crossed his mind;
His. You were all his. 
 It was odd to think that now, of all times, he’d advanced in his feelings for you. Since his first year at Hogwarts, he’d noticed you- how could he not? Your bright smile when you were named a Gryffindor somehow made his face hot, in a fashion that no girl or boy had never done. In most of his classes, you excelled at the top- you took pride in your work, strength, and knowledge. Second year, when you were invited to the Yule Ball by an upperclassman, as had he been, his eyes were not able to move from you in your golden dress. You shone like a beam of sunshine, and now here you were, glistening in the moonlight before him, whispering his name and smiling at his actions- all of it was overwhelming, in a glorious way that had him returning to devour you. 
So distracted by the way he feathered kisses along your stomach, pressed them  against your thighs, you barely noticed the way he dragged your panties down your sides. 
Warm air met your lewd foldsglistening in the soft glow of the moon. Yoongi had never seen something quite so beautiful, except perhaps the precious curve of your lips into that utterly adorable smile. Your entrance was wide now, just waiting for his fingers to slip in.
Overcome with his hunger, Yoongi’s tongue licked one long stripe up your nerves, paying special attention to the center pearl. Pleasure burst up your chest and your head, unable to be held up, fell back onto the table with one long, unbelieving moan.
Yoongi wanted to laugh at how easily you became undone before him. You were so adorable, pulling  at his hair and begging for him to put a finger in. After moments of licking, tasting, and the picturesque portrait of you with your legs spread, one long, pale finger teased its way at your entrance.
“Hmmm, Yoongi,” you mewled, your head tilting to watch.
His finger pushed into you with leisure. Wet, soft skin covered him, tightening around the appendage and clenching when they came to an end. “Another one, darling?” Yoongi rested his chest on the inside of your thigh, sparkling black eyes gazing up at you with the slightest hint  of amusement. With words lost in the abyss of your throat, you managed a weak “yes”, and a nod to pair, bottom lip struck by your top row of teeth.  
Without a second to pass, another finger entered you, languidly sliding between your legs. The feeling of your pussy, so tight and dripping and so delicious, Yoongi wasn’t sure how long he could continue before he lost control of himself.
His clothed body climbed atop yours, lips dripping with your cum pressing down onto you. You accepted his kiss eagerly, tasting yourself on his tongue, fingers running through his dark locks. Yoongi’s fingers worked magic on you as he left bruises behind on your collarbones, pushing in and out of you at a gentle, halted pace. You wished he’d go faster, but you kept that bit to yourself, suddenly feeling a bit shy  at the fact that you were completely nude before him and he was still wearing his uniform.
“Yoongi,” you whispered, tugging at his button-up.
“Oh,” he kissed your lips chastely, “I’m sorry.”
Swiftly, he sat up to undo the buttons,  raising the shirt and vest up  and over his head. The loss of his fingers inside you had you writhing, though you found yourself lost in the exposed, cream-colored nature of his lean torso. He wasn’t overtly muscled, like his fifth year friend he adored so much, and yet muscles rippled in his shoulders as he moved them. You hurried to help him  undo his belt, aiding  in their exclusion amongst the pile of your own uniform. Left in dark green boxers, Yoongi’s length stood tall and hard, slightly dampened with traces of pre-cum.
You wanted to taste him ever so badly.
“Yoongi...” your darkened eyes lifted to look at him, “can I...?”
Yoongi stared at you, searching your features for a moment, before he understood what you meant. “Sweetheart,” he chuckled softly, “if you do, I won’t last.”
A sense of pride swelled in your chest, even though you hadn’t exactly done anything.
“Then...” you bit the inside of your cheek nervously, avoiding his eyes as color rushed into your face. “Can we...”
“Of course,” Yoongi returned breathlessly, pressing his lips  to yours once again. He held your face gently, as if you were a piece of porcelain he might somehow shatter, though you were nothing of the like. You were strong and capable and he knew this to be true.
Yoongi discarded his boxers along the tile floor. His manhood sprung free, all pink and shiny and  looking just about as delectable as ice cream. Your mouth salivated at the sight of him, legs instinctively parting further. He placed himself at your hips, licking his fingers before rubbing it against your entrance. And once he was sure  you were wet, he placed the tip at your hole, lewdly pressing into you.
A long gasp escaped him. Shuddering, Yoongi moved until all of him was sheathed inside you. You welcomed him easily, tightly, wrapping all of your wet skin around him until he felt like he’d implode. 
Eyes heavy and half-lidded with ecstasy, his hips met yours, hot skin on top of hot skin. He nearly collapsed on top of you, lips finding your bruised throat.  
“Fuck,” you moaned, clawing down his back.
Yoongi’s hips moved, reeling back only to slam into your folds once again. “Jesus,” he groaned,  throwing his head back with a half-smile, “you’re so fucking tight.”
His appreciative words only did more for your arousal. Yoongi’s hips snapped back and forth, his cock digging deeper into your pussy with each thrust. Your fingernails dug into his skin, leaving behind pink crescents of pleasure, undoubtedly leaving marks for him to view tomorrow morning.
That familiar coil of pleasure returned. Your pussy was so absolutely delicious that he felt inferior, and for the first time it was inexplicably hard to keep himself from cumming inside you. He held onto your waist, thumbs digging into your skin.
And as he worked himself between you, you found yourself thinking of him as a first year, beautiful and quiet and always lost in a book or two. Talented, handsome Min Yoongi- the boy you thought had never noticed you, or never thought to say hello. You wondered momentarily if this affair was once in a lifetime, or if he’d felt that tug of magnetic attraction the same as you had that day on the train. It was that day his young self had found you, sitting alone with your eyes peering out the window, and when you’d spotted him staring from the sliding door, he’d disappeared in a flash of dark hair and dark robes.  
You hoped it was more than a fling, but if it wasn’t, you were prepared.
“Fuck,” Yoongi’s  forehead rested on the space between your neck and shoulder, sweat dripping onto your hot skin. “I’m...  ______,  I’m so...”
“Inside me,” you begged suddenly, running your hands up to pull on his soft, yet matted hair.
He lifted his head in surprise, staring down at your flushed, gorgeous face.
Another thrust and you were clenching so tightly around him that a long, strangled moan rumbled  in his throat, his movements suddenly jagged and short. Yoongi emptied himself inside you in a flood of hot liquid, another  lewd slap of skin on skin.
You laid there on the table like some kind of specimen, arms above your head, chest heaving erratically as you tried to catch your breath. Beside you Yoongi fell, pulling you into his chest with one bicep to hold up your head. The simple action of holding you warmed your heart, enough that you kissed the skin of his chest and smiled ever so softly to yourself.
“You...” Yoongi whispered breathlessly above you.
You smiled, confused. “Me?”
“You.” Yoongi said in finality, as if addressing you was the solution to the world’s problems.
You stifled your laughter, “You, too.”
His lips twitched into a smile. Yoongi rarely smiled, and when he did, it was as if the clouds on a rainy day had parted to allow a beam of sun to stream through. Now, in the moonlight, he was a beam  of silver, dark locks disheveled on his pale forehead. He looked, in short, like an angel. Or a demon in an angel’s disguise.
“______,” Yoongi began, sounding as relaxed as he’d ever been, “do you wanna hang out tomorrow?”
Hang out? Did he mean “hang out” in a friend way, or was this his polite way of asking you to be his friends with benefits? You swallowed, preparing yourself for the latter.
“....Hang....out?” You repeated slowly.
Yoongi sensed your hesitation and ran his fingers down your forearm, “I mean like, get hot chocolate and... whatever people do on dates.”  
Excitement bubbled within you. And worse, hope.
“Dates?” You wondered, trying to hide your eagerness.
“Yes,” Yoongi laughed awkwardly, “yes, a date.”
You couldn’t fight your triumphant smile.
“Yes. Yes, I’d love to.”
a/n: its the holidays! send in your holiday-related requests! (:
🎁
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busybellshub · 5 years ago
Text
Rev- A game about Foxes
https://faxdoc.itch.io/rev
Hello, welcome to my review REV.
REV is an atmospheric 2D strategy game about trying to survive as a fox in nature reclaimed ruins. When I first started the game up the first thing, I noticed was there wasn’t any music playing, just the peaceful sounds of birds chirping, the song of bugs, and the footsteps of animals. It reminded me a lot of summer. As I sat at the menu screen I tried to change it into full screen mode, if you’re playing on keyboard and mouse then you use the “W” and “S” key to move, I tried to select it with the usual confirm keys but found myself stumped. I pressed nearly every key on my keyboard trying to find which key was “The One”. I probably spent a lot longer on this part than most people, but eventually I learned that if you press the space bar that is the confirm button. I felt like a fool.
 Now that I figured the space bar was the key to use, I quickly started my game into the tutorial, I noticed that the game was a bit jittery looking but I know the developers released an update to resolve that, so that shouldn’t be an issue for future players. Anyway, you start off in these ruins and you’re 1st objective is to attack these training dolls, you hold space to sneak and charge up your attack. If you release while the gauge is full then you bound forward in the direction where your mouse is at. You can’t stand too close to the doll or else your gauge won’t budge.  After you complete that you forward to the next area and find yourself a Foxy friend, I called the fox my Foxy Wife, together you and your newfound companion learn how to hunt together.  There is a starter rabbit for you both to eat, you can control either fox with “Left Control”, which means you can do an ambush! Now hunting a moving target is a little more difficult. If you go into the solid green circle then you have been spotted by the rabbit and they will try to flee, you must stay with within the outer green circle in order to charge up your gauge. Luckily your fox friend isn’t spotted in the circle so they can get close. After you kill the rabbit you must pick it up and take it home. That’s where you start the real game.
 Now that I’m into the meat of the game, a new screen pops up and you have a point to spend on either:
·         Getting sharper fangs that deal about 50% more damage
·         Adding 1 fox to your party
·         The ability to charge up your attacks faster
·         Footprints appear faster
·         Reducing your prey’s detections radius
·         Being able to run faster.
I decided to go with sharper fangs. After that I choose to return to the game.
I see that me and my Foxy wife live in the remains of the tree that has been cut down. So, I leave my fox wife at home and I start making my way through the dead log. As you leave the log, a screen pops up and it tells you about footprints and what they do. Footprints are the way you can detect your prey and the darker the color the closer they are, the lighter they are the farther away. Interesting, on the downside you must sit and wait for the footprints to appear. Now since I didn’t pick the ability for footprints to, they take a few more second than usual to appear, that doesn’t really bother me except for the fact that you have a limited amount of time to find food for the day. Well I need only one so it can’t be that hard right? Well on my first day I had a hard time.
I sit and wait outside of my den and spot some dark red footprints almost immediately! Sweet, I start making my way towards this wooded area, as I pause every now and wait for the footprints to appear, I hear a light thumping nearby. That must mean there is prey! Excitedly I run up to where the prey is, and I see a rabbit minding its own business. I start stalking the prey and I jump when the gauge is full, I hit the rabbit but its not dead. It dashes off and I try to pursue it, but it was way faster than me, so now I’m back to hunting the prey. Even though I landed a hit and the rabbit bled a bit there was no other way telling where it may have possibly gone except for the footprints. Which is a bit of an inconvenience, because there are many footprints in the surrounding area. Since we were in a small little clearing area, I was only able to know in one direction the rabbit ran off in, every time I kept stopping to see the footprints it took a lot longer to find the rabbit. But I didn’t mind so much because I was able to learn many routes, saw more and more of the aesthetics in the game, which I believe is the highpoint in this game, it is very calming and soothes your frustrations of not finding your prey. Anyway, I went in various directions with no luck, I wasted many seconds searching and then finally I heard the familiar sound of thumping. I made my way towards the sound stopping every so often to be sure I was headed into the right direction; I find my little rabbit near this beautiful water, its go time! I once again charge up my attack only for the rabbit to hop a little to close and spot me. It runs off and I chase it, up the stair and I get stuck on the zig zag and once again lose it. Back to hunting, by this time the timer is around 130 seconds, I start panicking. I once again find my prey after many seconds of searching, I start stalking and I inch closer to it and when the bar is full, I pounce and take it down! Celebration ensues, but way to early. I have less than a minute to grab the prey and put my butt in gear! I grab it and I start booking it towards the den and anxiously glance to the clock, 30 seconds, the sun is setting, and I get stuck on some stairs because I’m a fool. I’m right outside of the dead log and the time is up! Rage ensues and I must take a breather.
After I recoup, I restart the game and begin the 1st day once more, I take my foxy wife with me and she ultimately is going to be the one to finish off any prey, while I bumble about like a drunk toddler. As the days progress, I begin to get better at the hunting mechanic, and I upgrade myself to be proficient in the game to do hunt alone. Fox Wife and I also have a child called Fox Daughter. Another thing that made this game more fun is the addition of more prey animals! Like a herd of deer, a bison and her calf. On the day the herd of deer arrived, I took my fox wife and daughter out for a hunt and see this group chilling near my den. Awesome I love delivery! So, we go to town and get all six-food needed for that day. Probably the easiest day in the game! It is then followed by the hardest day. On that day there is a mother bison and her calf walking around our den, I take the girls and we start the hunt. Almost immediately we are spotted by momma, and she is pissed that we dare gaze upon her child and her. She goes on the offense and start giving us a thorough walloping! I runaway while she mainly attacks my wife, sorry honey. I run back and I start hunting the calf, I kill it and drag its body back to the den to hurry and end the day before my wife and child are murdered. Next day there I look for my wife and child and see that they made it through! Relief fills me because I know I suck at hunting alone. I also see that today’s prey is the mother bison now childless, I’m definitely not doing this alone, we start making our way towards the bison. We got one the offense and I start the attack; I was not expecting this bison to sonic run away from us! When I witnessed this bison run at the speed of light, I had to take a few seconds to laugh! It ran so far it took me some time to find her, eventually we find her and attack her, it is definitely taking time since she is a tank. We are slowly taking more and more of her health down and eventually she dies.
That is where I have stopped playing for the moment. I can see myself playing this game at a later date when it is a bit more polished. At first, I wasn’t too fond of the game but at time went on I began to enjoy myself and the experiencing the game offers. The game is very cute, and I find myself wanting to play more, the aesthetics are well crafted and simple at the same time, the area in which you are set is mysterious and gives me the feeling of wanting to explore. The animations of every creature in this game is very smooth and seamlessly intertwined, the sound that also go with them are well created, the thumping of rabbits the buzzing of insect and bird singing, slight rustling of grass being stepped on. The progression of the difficulty in the game is varied from having to gather just one food up to six food, while throwing some interesting challenges your way.
The only faults I find within this game is when I strike an animal and they bleed only in one spot and don’t leave trail to follow making it more difficult to find them on the map, I also think there can be too many footprints on the screen that are all dark or light, which makes it confusing to follow prey you’ve already attacked. Another issue I had, but also decided that it wasn’t too terrible, is when you’re hunting is if you forget where your mouse is then you can startle the prey or just outright miss entirely.
I appreciate the time you took to read this review! I hope you check this game out for yourself and leave the creators constructive advice on what they can do to improve this game. If you want to read more game reviews or see when I’m streaming the next indie games review please follow me on https://twitter.com/BellBusy , https://www.tumblr.com/blog/busybellshub , or https://www.twitch.tv/busybell .
You can also follow the development of this game https://twitter.com/Faxdocc
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cassiebones · 7 years ago
Text
Muse
Or
The One Where Everybody is Queer
It’s the sight of those arms that has Lena Luthor walking up to the sunny, smiling blonde in the middle of the university courtyard—sitting with half a dozen other college students, of all shapes and sizes and sexualities��and clearing her throat, her sketchbook pressed against her chest.
The blonde glances up at her and squints and it’s only then that Lena realizes that she’s probably silhouetted by the sun, her face in the shadows. But she can see the blonde’s face perfectly.
Oh god it’s so damn perfect.
She wears glasses over a pair of sky-blue eyes and her hair is almost always in a ponytail or some kind of braid—at least it is whenever Lena spots her across the quad, perpetually lying in the grass with the lesbian couple, who always hold hands or cuddle against one another and laugh with her—and today is no different. Today she has tiny yellow flowers woven in between her braids, making her look like some kind of woodland fairy, her rosy cheeks raised with her smile, her adorable button nose wrinkled slightly as she attempts to squint through the sunlight to find Lena’s face.
Usually, when Lena sees her, the blonde is wearing a sweater or a button-down, or something plaid that always makes Lena’s heart pound faster with hope. Because this girl is gorgeous and, yeah, plaid doesn’t always point to queer, but so often it does and wouldn’t it be just her luck if the girl who wears such queer clothing was actually 100% straight?
Today, however, it’s warm. Today, the blonde’s hair is in a ponytail and she’s wearing a deep blue tank top and a red bandeau underneath and her shorts are cut-offs and Lena can feel her heartbeat in her throat and oh god, she’s been standing here for a really long time not saying anything, hasn’t she. They’re all staring at her now; the lesbian couple and the spiky-haired boy with his maybe-boyfriend, who is in her photography class, and their other two friends, who are tangled up together with books in their hands. They’ve all stopped what they’re doing and they’re staring.
It’s like the first day of high school all over again, when Lena—who had skipped several grades—showed up to a classroom filled with teenagers that were all twice her size. Even the teacher had thought she’d shown up to the wrong school.
Only this was worse. Because she was in college, nearly in her last year, and she had only just turned eighteen a few months ago. Because she had a major crush on the blonde, but more than that, she thought she was beautiful and if she didn’t ask her question now, she might as well evaporate into thin air because it was getting more and more embarrassing by the second and—
“Are you okay, Lena?”
Her eyes widen and her heart skips a beat and her throat threatens to close because
“You know my name?” she blurts before she can stop herself and then she’s blushing as the blonde smiles brightly up at her, because she’s never even bothered to learn her name. She just knows that she’s pretty and blonde and, wow, she knows my name!
“Of course I do,” she giggles. “You’re in James’ photography class, right?” She motions to the black guy, who gives her a lopsided smile and a wave, his arm still slung around the smaller guy’s shoulder. “He showed me some of your work; it’s really good.”
“Th-thanks!” Lena says and she can feel her face getting hotter. Her light skin is probably the color of a beet by now as she runs her hand through her impeccably combed hair, probably mussing it. She doesn’t really care too much when this blonde bombshell is smiling at her like this, though. “Um, I’m sorry I don’t know your name.”
“That’s okay,” the blonde says, standing up. Predictably, she’s taller than Lena—but not by too much. “Kara Danvers,” she says, sticking out her hand. Lena takes it and feels a frisson of electricity run through her. “I’m a Freshman here this year,” she explains. “Otherwise, I probably would have been in photography with you and James. Mine’s not as good, though.”
“Don’t listen to her,” James laughs. “Kara’s photos are great; she’s just humble.” Kara rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “Um, this is my sister, Alex, and her girlfriend, Maggie,” she said, motioning to the lesbians, who lean against each other like their lives depend on it. They each wave at her and Lena waves back with a shy smile. It’s nice to see happy queer couples like them around campus. It gives her hope. “They’re both seniors,” she explains. “So are Lucy and Vasquez,” she points to the two others entangled on the grass.
“They/them,” the one Lena assumes is Vasquez says, with a small grin. “Nice to meet you.”
“Same,” Lucy adds.
“Last, but certainly not least,” Kara continues, “this is Winn. He’s a Sophomore tech major.”
“I like machines and cute boys,” Winn says, with a small grin. James kisses his cheek.
“Don’t we all,” Kara laughs and Lena’s face almost drops at that. So she is straight.
Bummer.
“Sorry, Lena,” Kara says, turning back to the dark-haired girl, who’s trying so hard to keep the light in her green eyes. “You wanted to ask something, didn’t you?”
“Um, well, I…it’s nothing,” Lena says, starting to back away. “I just…I should…” She starts to turn, but then she feels a hand on her wrist and heat blooms all over her body as she looks down to see Kara’s fingers wrapped around her joint and she looks up, meeting the other girl’s concerned gaze.
“Don’t leave,” Kara says, something like hope in her eyes that has Lena practically swallowing her own tongue. “You can ask. It’s okay.”
“Uh…” Lena looks down at her wrist, which feels like it’s on fire just from Kara’s simple touch. “I…um…”
“Yes?” Kara asks, stepping forward a little bit. It’s almost too much.
Lena swallows thickly. “I was wondering,” she says, “if you wouldn’t mind…um…being my next subject.”
Kara furrows her brow and tilts her head like a confused puppy. Oh god, why does she have to look like a puppy? “Your subject?” she asks.
Lena nods. “For my art class,” she explains. “Well, one of them. It’s all about accurate anatomy and we’re supposed to pick a subject—like a family member or a friend—and I’m not really close with my family and I really don’t have a lot of friends, except for Jess, but she’s really busy getting her degree in anthropology and doesn’t really have the time to spare, so I either have to pay somebody to be my model or ask around and I can totally pay you, if you need me to, but the lines of your body are really great, especially your arms, and your face, and your…everything. So it would be really great if you say yes, but you don’t have to obviously, and I can’t breathe.” Lena takes a big breath, filling her lungs with sweet, sweet oxygen and then bites her lip as she waits for Kara to process everything she’s just said.
It takes a moment, but then the blonde’s lips are breaking into a wide grin and now she’s flushing and Lena wonders how it’s possible for her to look even more gorgeous than she already did, because it really shouldn’t be.
“You think the lines of my body are beautiful?” Kara asks, her head tilting again and Lena can do nothing but nod. “Wow. That’s…that’s really sweet, Lena. How could I say no?”
“You totally can if you want,” Lena blurts. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. If it’s something you’re not comfortable with then—” Lena’s eyes practically burst from her skull when Kara reaches out and presses her fingertips to the other woman’s lips, stopping her from talking with a soft touch.
“Lena,” she laughs, “I would be honored to be your model. Is tomorrow okay?” Lena nods, Kara’s fingers still pressed against her lips, and she fights the urge to kiss the pads of her fingers. “Great!” Kara exclaims, finally removing her fingers—and Lena tries not to keen at the loss—and pulling a pen out of the pocket of her shorts, grabbing for Lena’s wrist again. “Sorry,” she says, when she sees the look of confusion on Lena’s face, “I don’t have any paper with me.”
Lena’s eyes flicker down to the sketchbook in her hands, filled with paper, but then they return to Kara’s face. Alerting Kara to this would only mean that she would stop touching her and Lena did not want that at all. So she stays quiet and tries not to swoon at this blonde goddess’s touch.
When Kara releases her wrist, Lena feels the loss, but also a buzzing where their skin touched. “Call me,” Kara says, brightly. “Or text. Whatever. We’ll find a time and place to meet tomorrow. You can even come over to my dorm; my roommate will be out all weekend, so we’ll have the place to ourselves, for art or…whatever.”
It’s the ‘whatever’ and the glint in Kara’s eyes that almost has Lena tripping over her own gay as she nods and starts backing away. “W-will do,” she says, before she turns completely away and damn near skips back toward her dorm, the numbers burning into her skin as she stares down at them written, beautifully, on her wrist.
TBC
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thegoddesseos · 8 years ago
Text
Deduction.
Ignis is undergoing psychological training to further prepare him for the role of chief analyst and right hand to future King Noctis. This is very different from anything I've shared with you all! I honestly don't know where it came from, I was reading another fic (who I'll tag in a moment) stopped mid sentence- and feverishly began writing this. I hope you enjoy....? *gulps* 
TLDR; DAD HAS A HARD TIME OKAY ;A;
 TW: Mental torture (?) Thriller. 
 Today he was in his parents’ house. The house where he’d grown up in Insomnia. His mother and father were both aging beautifully, and they welcomed him with open arms, beaming with pride at their son. 
“I’m making your favorite, my dear!”, his mom said in her usual chipper tone. “Mother,” Ignis began to protest, yet knowing all the wiser. “All these years of making me things, why not let me make you something for a change, hm?” “Where do you think you got the love of cooking from young man” she playfully retorted.
 “Yeah, let the woman alone!” his father chimed in, cracking a smile. 
 His parents. The only people he’d humor enough to let take care of him even for an instant. He did it mostly out of respect. He wouldn’t dare put up a real fight with his mother (she’d raised him better than that). 
“Father”, he nodded, finally being able to greet him while his mother was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she prepped the kitchen. 
“Come sit with me, my boy”. He gestured to the seat next to him on the couch, his words, full of warmth. Ignis joined him, his chest tightening, swelling with love for the man he hoped to be half as great as one day. His father took his hand, simply beaming at his boy, and the man he’d become. It was softer than Ignis had remembered, his grasp lightened with age. 
“Ignis, i’m so very prou- 
 *BAM*
 Ignis’ heart shot out of his chest, the following scream he heard could only be that of his mother. He whipped his head around to reveal that she was trapped under part of the roof that’d come crashing down in the explosion. Shots rang out from overhead, and flying Niflheim tanks littered the sky. 
“We’re under attack!!” Ignis ran towards his mother who lay on the ground, oven mitt still on her hand. Another shot rung out crashing through the living room when he heard his father shout in agony. He was hit, and was bleeding from the gut. 
 “Ignis, sweetheart!” he heard his mom pleaded with him to help her. 
“I-ignis…” his father managed to mumble, blood spurting from his lips. After a moment’s hesitation, the cinematics slowed around him, waiting for him, allowing him time to make his choice. 
“I- I…” he looked down at his mother cradled in his arms. 
“STASIS”, he yelled. A wreck, and shaking. His mother disintegrated in his arms, and the room reset to it’s default of sickly white, with slightly flickering fluorescent lights that only added to the abysmal mood of the room. 
 “Mission objective: f a i l e d”, rang through the room. A different tri-tone voice came over the loud speaker, preceded only by the sound of a button being pressed, followed by a faint crackling silence. 
 “You’ve now exhausted your hault stasis for the month, Mr. Scientia.” 
“I know”, he said. Slumped on the ground where the image of his mother lay dying before him was, not only a minute prior. “I know”, he repeated. This time, defeat hung on his words. Anger building where fear had been, he began to kick himself internally for being too weak, too indecisive, and too slow to complete the mission. That was the third time he’d been unable to complete his Rapid Deduction test. He knew he needed work in this area. Hostage Negotiations VR had been relatively smooth, and gone without a hitch. Same goes for Strategic Planning VR, but his Rapid Deduction reasoning brought him to his knees every time. 
How was he to know which life he should save? His mother or his father. Who thinks about that kind of thing? Except, he knew the answer. It was him. He was expected to think of these things, to test him, and his mind. To make life changing decisions at a moment’s notice. 
 “That’s...enough, for one day” he finally said, bringing himself up to his feet. He heard the sssshhhhss sound of the air tight lock release on the sliding doors, and he left the virtual reality room without a second glance back. Tomorrow would be another day. Who knows what the scenario would be, but tomorrow, he’d be ready. 
Sometimes he wished his strength lie in the physical realm like Gladio. He has it so much easier. Physical labor- he’d take that any day, over his plot. Lift 1,000 lbs total, a day? Sure. Anything to escape an instant of the mental torture he’s put through. Similar to physical strength, he knows mental strength builds over time. “It’ll come”, he whispers to himself, walking to his car getting ready to drive home. “But i’m going to have to increase my stamina, and to do that i’ll need to be alert, awake, and at pique functioning capacity”.
 The next morning, he set out for his usual coffee place. “Ah, Mr. Scientia! Room for cream and sugar? Same as always?” chirped the cute barrister, brown ponytail bobbing.
 He paused, deep in thought.
 “Just black- thank you”
 “Ohh, something new today, I see?” she giggled. “Alright-one ebony it is! You betchya- coming right up sir” and she bounced away to prepare his cup to go.
 ***
 The tri-tone voice came over the intercom again (if he ever found out which of the Kingsguard was behind the two way glass..he’d..he’d…. )
He was never able to really finish the thought, seeing as he couldn't really do anything to the Kingsguard, but if he could..it woulda been something bad.
 “Shall we begin again, Mr. Scientia” the familiar tri-tone voice rung out through the intercom, filling the VR room. Ignis met the voice with silence.
Click.
 “Shall we begin again, Mr. Scientia.”
A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead, and landed on the ground. How long had he been watching his loved ones die at this point. Three? Four? Five hours? 
Click.
 The press of the button filled the room, followed by the predictable crackling white noise, and the tri tone voice once more.
“Shall we begin again Mr. Scientia.” Ignis exhaled sharply through his nose, his hair clinging to his forehead, matted with sweat. His shirt, soaked through, revealing the muscles of his lean torso, and his heaving chest.
 “Yes.” 
Noctis had been knocked unconscious. Gladio’s pelvis had been crushed by the red giant and he was now bleeding out from the massive wound. If Ignis could just get him the high elixer in time…but Prompto can’t survive against the giant foe for long on his own. He’s wasted too much time in thought. 
“Mission: F A I L E D”
 There had to be a way to save them both. There had to be. What was he missing, what clue was he missing. He knows he needs to move faster. No- think faster. Each time he tries to save them both he’s met with the same outcome. 
 “Mission: F A I L E D”
 Hot tears begin to cloud his vision, his eyes, feral, darting from one friend to the other. Wetness leaves his eyes having to watch his friends cry out for his aid and die over, and over. This simulation...it was becoming too much for him. He felt his mind begin to seer, and bubble underneath his skull.
 “I CAN’T”, his eyes going wild behind his glasses. “You bastards. I know you can hear me!”, demanding that someone from behind the double glass, covered by the running simulation have mercy on him.
 “Someone” he pleads. 
 Click. The tri-tone voice came over the intercom. 
 “Again.”
 Mustering all the composure he had, and speaking through gritted teeth, eyes fixed on the floor “If...I could only have a glass of wat-”
 “Shall we begin again, Mr.Scientia” the tri- tone voice rang out once more. He wished desperately he’d not used all his halt stasis for the month. Gods, did he need them now. A soft “yes” managed to escape his lips. The words heavy with defeat did not carry far, and were almost immediately lost to the vast space of the room. 
Click. “Shall we begin agai-” 
“YES!!” his fists slammed into his legs in a hot fury. “YES. For Gods sake, yes.” Click. “Composure, Mr Scientia” the trill tone voice rings out, monotonously. 
Ignis, takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose, clenching his jaw together. He unbuttons his shirt, sweat pooling in the nook of his collar bones. “Proceed” he says sternly. A newfound determination, forming within him. He could save Gladio, but would he be happy without his lower body? Would he be able to find new meaning in life, no longer being able to live up to his father’s legacy? His entire family’s legacy? No. Ignis decided, you just can’t be sure. You can’t make decisions by what people might do. To save Gladio would mean leaving Prompto, who was basically a civilian. Not just any civilian. He just so happened to be Noctis’ closest friend. Ignis thought back, his mind racing, deducing, cycling through possibilities and probable outcomes of his actions in his mind’s eye. When Prompto had joined them in training for fun, he’d needed help on ¾ of the missions. That’s a 75% chance that he can’t survive without the assistance of at least one other person. Ignis’ eyes were darting around from Prompto, to Gladio who was in desperate need of that high elixr, back to Prompto, who couldn’t last much longer on his own. How would the King survive without the company if the one person who keeps him grounded? Prompto’s friendship is paramount to Noctis’ mental stability. Amicitia is of nobility though. His family, and his purpose practically bred into his DNA to protect the king, to train him, make him stronger. Gladio is an indispensable resource just with knowledge of combat alone, Ignis thinks. Noctis needs Gladio’s knowledge to be able to protect himself. 
Friends come second to the will of what the burden of the throne commands. 
 “Iggy, man! Prompto’s needs help! Ngh-” Gladio’s eyes rolled back in pain. Ignis turned away from Prompto. 
“I-Iggy? Iggy, buddy! Iggy!” Prom screamed, desperately trying to bring his friend back to his aid. Ignis’ choice marked the point of no return. He could feel his heart, ripping in two while he administered the high elixr to Gladio, only to be met with, “What in the Gods name is wrong with you! I could have handled this pain! Prompto! Ignis-” Gladio yells through his tears, “Prompto is dying!”
Red Giant still at large, Prompto laid on the ground, having suffered a final rib crushing blow to the chest. His eyes glassed over, a vacant expression on his face, mouth slightly parted, a tear falling over his star dusted cheeks and Ignis broke.
 “Objective: c o m p l e t e” rang through the room as it reset to its standard sickly white walls, and flickering fluorescent lights. He’d watched the look of betrayal color his friend’s eyes as they died by his actions a thousand times. A thousand times he’d have to choose what life to save, and when. Calculating who survives and who doesn't if the time came down to it, and weighing one against the other. 
 Regis or Luna.
 Luna or Noctis.
 Prompto or Luna.
 Gladio or Iris.
 Iris or Prompto.
Time after time he's met with incomprehensible combinations of loved ones. His heart shredding apart with each simulation. He learned not to show emotional weakness, and keep up his prim and proper image in the presence of others. If he couldn’t keep himself in check, how would he ever be able to keep the affairs of a king in order? Before long, he’s mastering almost any scenario, achieving the best possible outcomes, despite seemingly insurmountable odds. His training served him well throughout his journey with Noctis, Prompto, and Gladio on their way to the wedding in Lestallum. Ignis managed to keep the group alive, through otherwise fatal encounters. “Iggy!”, the prince would say, having exhausted all his resources. “I’ve got just the thing!” he’d reply, coming up with the perfect remedy in the heat of battle to defeat whatever foe blocked their path. During the fall of Leviathian, he’d been tasked with evacuating the citizens as quickly as possible. In the stampede of people rushing through the flood gates, a mother and her three children were making their hasty escape, her arms already already tied with two infants, her 5 year old had no choice but to run by her side. However, the influx of people managed to separate her from her oldest child. What’s worse, is that Niff soldiers were descending on the crowd, and the child found himself face to face with a Magitek trooper in the chaos.
 Ignis protested against his automatic thoughts, that were saying self preservation over the lives of a civilian. No. This is wrong. He thought. This is wrong. He managed to force one leg in front of the other, bursting into a sprint, his nerves on fire in rebellion against his conditioning. Mission failed rang through his mind at a maddening pace growing louder in his mind the closer he got to the child, when soon his mind's voice was screaming MISSION FAILED. He didn’t care, this wasn’t a VR mission. This was real life. 
He pushed through his thoughts as he pulled the child to safety, he felt the slice of white hot iron to eyes. He’d been struck. 
 “Thank you! Thank the gods for you!” the mother managed through her sobs, clinging to her child. “Thank the gods for you! Thank the gods for you!” she said to Ignis, while littering her son’s face with kisses. His knees gave way, and he was taken under by the searing pain as his body met the blackness of the asphalt. 
His final thought before succumbing to the pain- objective complete.
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paradisobound · 8 years ago
Text
Forever the One
Summary: When Omega Dan is of age, he is told by his father that he will be sold off to find an Alpha mate. Cue, Alpha Phil. Alpha Phil is in desperate need for a mate, and although Phil is only a few years older than Dan, he holds a reasoning behind why he needs a mate so quickly. When secrets are revealed that give up why Phil needed a mate, this story may not have a happy ending.
Chaptered Work: This is chapter 12 of 16. 
Warnings: Mentions of blood and health issues. 
Word Count: 1,802
Authors Note: So, we’re almost to the end of the story and I can’t really fathom it. I know that this isn’t the longest work out there but you guys don’t even understand how hard it is for me to finish something I start. Like, i can’t do it often. Anyways, enough rambling, happy reading! :) 
*Masterlist*
As the days started moving faster by, the symptoms of my pregnancy increased quickly. By day five after mating and sensing my pregnancy, I could hardly keep any food down. It started as morning sickness on day three and progressively got worse. I kept feeling bad, knowing that Phil’s family could sometimes hear me as I lost whatever I tried to eat. But I couldn’t help it. 
By day six, I was craving salt. I know that salt seems like such a weird thing to crave, but I wanted it so badly. I found myself adding salt to things that didn’t even need salt and then I found myself eating food that had high sodium levels. Phil tried helping me steer away from it but it was no use. I really liked my salt. 
By day ten, morning sickness wasn’t so bad. I felt nausea in the morning but by mid afternoon, it cleared. I felt my appetite to increase exponentially. I felt like I was eating anything and everything in sight. Phil even caught me eating his half eaten candy bar that he left on his nightstand just a few minutes before. I don’t know why I ate it, but all I remember is taking a bite and Phil yelling at me for eating his food. Not harsh yelling, but playful yelling that resorted in us both laughing. 
And soon, a month had gone by. My body had changed and taken shape into this beautiful pregnant entity. My skin literally glowed and my eyes filled with color. My mating gland healed almost miraculously, and my skin quite literally cleared. 
And I had a little bump. It wasn’t big but it was enough to make it so my jeans no longer fit. If I stood to the side, you can definitely tell it was there. But if I stood straight in front of you, you couldn’t tell. 
But I loved it so much. 
Phil did too. 
Phil went on full oxygen at the discretion of his doctor. His doctor told him point blank that his lungs were near failing. Neither Phil or I took that news very well. The doctor told us that lung A was functioning twenty five percent and lung B was functioning thirty percent. Which meant that his lungs weren’t functioning like they needed to be. 
But Phil was doing fine regardless. And we tried to not let the news affect us in anyway. 
Not when we were just about to announce my pregnancy to his family. 
Of course, Phil and I pretty much already knew that his family could put two and two together but we still wanted to announce it regardless. It just made it feel special to us that way. 
So, on a Sunday afternoon, after Omega Lester had fixed a nice meal for us for lunch, Phil sat down his family in the living room. I wore a specifically tighter shirt, not one of the baggy sweatshirts that I had been donning. As they sat down on the couch, they stared at us and Phil and I just couldn’t contain it anymore. 
“We’re having a baby!” Both exploded from our mouths before Alpha and Omega Lester stood up and gave us the warmest appreciation. 
I got a hug from Omega Lester first and then Alpha Lester came over and pat my shoulder. They both explained how happy they were that I was able to conceive after the first time. 
I smiled at that thought because it made me happy that I made my mate and his family happy. I put my hands on my belly, showing it off. It was just such a small cute bump, “We’re almost sure that it’s a boy,” I said rubbing over the taunt skin. 
Phil nodded, “I’ve been getting signals from him and I can sense that he’s a little boy.” 
Alpha Lester and Omega Lester both beamed in ways that I couldn’t even describe. Everything about this situation made me so happy. 
Almost immediately, Alpha Lester was on the phone calling all other family members to tell them the news. It felt like I was now a top story. Like, who knew having a baby could be such a huge deal for a family? 
Phil and I padded back up to his room to let his parent’s bask in the glow of everything. I laid on my back on the bed, looking down and admiring the way my stomach stuck out. I kept rubbing my hands over it, “This makes me happy,” I said looking down. 
Phil put his hands on top of my mine and smiled, “It makes me happy too.” 
The day following our announcement, Phil and I were home alone when we heard the door bell ring. The first time, it was his family bringing us gifts. The second time, it was his friends bringing gifts. And the third time, it was the delivery man bringing us packages. Phil and I couldn’t believe it. 
In the span of 24 hours, we had the nursery fully furnished and then some. And we also had all brand new clothes that made us extremely happy because it was less we had to worry about affording. 
Alpha Lester gave us a spare bedroom to make into the nursery so Phil and I got to work on that almost immediately. By the end of the week, we had the crib built, the changing table up, and the dresser all set up. We also had all of the clothing organized by size and we had the toys sorted. Everything was just perfect and we loved it. 
Later that evening, for the first time since I can remember, I went into town with Phil. We got a lot of stares, him rolling an oxygen tank and me being pregnant, but we didn’t care. We just looked out for each other. We got paint to paint the nursery, and then we bought some clothing that I could fit in to. Phil was the same size as me, which meant I couldn’t even wear his. And I was gaining weight fast. 
We ended the night with a dinner at a restaurant, something I had never done before. It was honestly the best thing to ever happen to me. I couldn’t help but get teary eyed over the thought that I might not get to do this again. 
I started to get a feeling of sadness knowing that Phil was slowly getting worse. I knew that our time together could be cut short at any moment and that was so worrisome to me. The only reassurance I had was that the doctor told Phil that they’ll do everything in their power to make it so he sees our baby be born. 
But that’s still three months away and a lot can happen in three months. A lot that we just can’t be prepared for unfortunately. 
Which is why, that night at the restaurant, we came up with the idea of having a bonding ceremony done. Similar to a wedding, a bonding ceremony is an official union between an Alpha and an Omega. They are performed by an Alpha priest and they don’t take more than a half an hour. 
It’s just a more legal way to say that you are joined with your Alpha. 
And that’s really all I wanted right now. I wanted us to be legally joined together. 
I wanted to become a Lester. 
On the walk home from our long day, Phil and I stopped at a place that had a sign where you could meet with a priest to discuss the bonding ceremony. We stopped and within an hour, had the date set for our bonding. 
Both of us couldn’t wait for the day. 
Which brings me to the present time. 
I’m currently standing in a park next to a lake where Phil is standing opposite of me. His family is there and my family as well. Phil is wearing a suit and looked incredibly handsome to me. 
I couldn’t find a suit to fit me, so I opted for a button down shirt and a pair of nice slacks that didn’t even buckle around my bump. 
The bonding ceremony began with a prayer for us and then led us to say our vows. Soon after the vows were said, we were told to fulfill our bond, which just simply meant that Phil had to bite my mating gland again and I had to bite his. 
The pain when he bit through my skin hurt slightly, but it wasn’t nearly as painful as the first time. Mostly because my body already knew my Alpha. When I bit his mating gland in return, I wasn’t expected a sweet taste to explode on my tongue. The bite was shallow but it did the job and then our bonding was complete. 
Staring at him, he leaned in with his hands pressed on my stomach and kissed me. I kissed back, tears washing over me for no reason other than being emotional and pregnant. When he pulled back and saw I was crying, he began to cry too which led us to both laugh it off. 
And the ceremony was done. 
Following the ceremony, there was a big get together and family dinner at the Lester house. I loved being referred to as the knew Omega Lester was being asked questions. Mostly were about our baby and when I was due to have him. I didn’t know so I just told them when he’s ready. 
Phil disappeared halfway through the ceremony, and I didn’t notice it right away. My father, Alpha Howell, was looking for Phil when he told me he couldn’t find him. I looked around the room for my mate and noticed that I couldn’t smell him anymore. 
Using my sense of smell, I sniffed around until I got a strong whiff of him coming from his bedroom. Opening the door, I slowly looked inside and saw Phil was bent over sitting on his bed. He was coughing and his eyes were watering. 
I rushed over to him and went to help him when I noticed he was coughing into a tissue. When he pulled the tissue back, blood coated the surface. His lips were stained red and he looked so exhausted. 
I rubbed his back until he calmed but when he did, his body was tired and he fell backwards on to the bed. He took deep breaths from his oxygen until he felt better. But that still didn’t make this any better. 
Looking between him and the blood tissue now staining his hand, I asked him, “How long have you been doing that?” 
He looked over at me, and right before his eyes shut to sleep, he whispered, “A few days.” 
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coffeecupandteatime · 7 years ago
Text
Obscure Review #5
It’s time to spork fics and ruin lives.
I’m Coffee and we’re still putting up with this trainwreck for some reason. Don’t ask me why. Ask Tea.
All the jokes can be made that and this fic is an abomination to the wonderful world that is Percy Jackson and the Olympians/ Heroes of Olympus. I’ve got a bone to pick with this fic. I’m Tea and I approve this message.
I want my refund. ʕಥᴥಥʔ
That wasn’t in the contract, Jager. You must waste your precious time sporking awful fics.
Then give me a bottle of Jack.
Done.
As usual, we will be offensive. Don’t take this personally.
Chapter 3
Awe no awful title to poke fun at ;╭╮;
The fact there are three chapters of this is the joke.
Get rekt son.
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So Emily was sleeping over tonight. We did a bunch of things girls do when they sleep over, like paint our nails and talk about boys. Just kidding.
Oh Katherine. You still haven’t grown a sense of humor, I see.
Who needs humor? She assumes everyone likes her jokes.
We didn't talk about boys because then Emily would talk for a whole hour about Angel and I would die of boredom.
Me too, but I’ll still have to suffer through this tedious crap.
ʕ◕ᴥ◕ʔ All shall be fine soon Coffee.
I can imagine my gravestone. 'Katherine Adams You will be missed
You’re missing a “not” in there.
Cause of Death: Emily Evans' Yeah
…I love how you try to make yourself seem like you’re not a snob but you fail miserably.
‘Katherine Adams. Cause of death: Over Inflated ego.”
If it makes you feel any better, I’ve started digging your grave.
So me and Emily were watching Remember Me with Robert Pattison until my mom came. She looked worried. "Get changed girls, we're leaving."
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You have quite the balls to start a sentence with “So” like that...
Not even going to attempt to set the scene? Just gonna jump right on in?
Emily and I, dumbass. ʕಠ益ಠʔ
We looked at her strangely and were about to ask her questions when she held up her hand and said, "I'll explain later."
Your attempts at making this urgent and not boring to read are failing.
I’m so enthralled by this plot. I feel as if these chapters get lazier and lazier each time. How many chapters are there?
You know, this wouldn’t be as bad if the writing didn’t suck horribly. You’d be surprised how things like thoughts and showing feelings greatly improve a story.
With that she left us to change. We did as she told us. I put on some jeans and a purple shirt with sequins and purple uggs. Emily wore a white tank top with white jeans and white flats.
We don’t care what they are wearing. We care about the plot, so get on with the plot (or lack thereof).
Tea, I doubt we’ll get any real plot that ISN’T some boring filler.
What do you mean? Of course listing off what these little shits clothed themselves with is crucial to the plot and to the sense of urgency the author is trying to convey!
What is it with her and white? But of course I shouldn't be talking since I'm obsessed with purple.
“Never mind the fact my mother is worried sick about something! I must take the time to question and internally berate my friend’s style choices!”
This is slow and boring to read. Why the hell should we care that the Sue is obsessed with purple? We’re not seeing the obsession, we are sitting here listening to her tell us that she is. It’s boring and lazy writing.
Why should we care about the Sue? She has no lovable qualities.
After we were dressed we went out of my room to see my mom and Angel waiting for us. "We need to leave. Now."
For being in a hurry you sure are slow.
About as slow as the Author is mentally.
“I’m going to stand here telling you we need to leave immediately, but first who’s up for watching this paint dry!”
After my mom says that we hear a screech. All the color drained from her face.
Chooooooooooppy. Seriously, a second grader can make more complex sentences.
Don’t insult the Second graders, Tea, least they work hard.
I, on the other hand, am totally down for whatever was coming to eat them. It just needs to HURRY THE HELL UP.
"Impossible. They couldn't have gotten it that quick." She looks scared. My mom's the bravest person I know and she doesn't get scared easily. Whatever is scaring her must be creepy.
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...IT’S A FUCKING MONSTER! It should be terrifying not “creepy”. Especially if you heard it screech. Be realistic.
Bill Cosby’s a human and he’s more creepy ʕಠᴥಠʔ
Guys, you are overestimating Katherine’s ability to emote. She’s too dumb to live.
" , what's going on and what was that?" Emily looks freaked out. I am too.
Coming from the twat who described a screech that shook up your mother creepy.
I'm pretty sure Angel is too, but he's doing a good job at hiding it. My mom ignored the question.
Who the hell starts a sentence that way?
She does. She also likes repeating parts of her sentences.
Holy shit, you thought about Angel? Is that emotion I sense? ʕ◕0◕ʔ
No, you’re just imagining things.
"We have to get out before they find us. Hurry up and follow me."
My mom led us to the closet in her room and she opened it. Inside it was empty. She traced her fingers along the wall and took off a piece. The piece covered a screen. My mom pressed her thumb to the screen and I heard a click.
Is this Percy Jackson or 007? I forgot.
It was a thumb scan.
I still don’t see how THIS is being in any kind of hurry. The monster could have killed you about ten times by now. Now that would be interesting.
I agree. But, I find it funny how she reacts to the thumb scan. “It was a thumb scan” No shit!  ʕ◕ᴥ◕ʔ
Thanks Captain Obvious!
My mom got out of the closet and headed to her bed. She stopped before she could reach it and lifted the mat in front of the bed. It covered a trapdoor. My mom opened them and it revealed stairs.
The secret escape is opened from the closet but is by the bed? That sounds like a B-horror movie nightmare.
There is such a thing as adding too many step-by-step sequences ya know.
This is the most boring way to describe secret doors. Ever.
"Come on, we don't have much time before they start searching this floor."
So you keep saying, but have made little effort to exit in an expeditious manner.
Yet you took all that time to open a trapdoor? If you were in a hurry you wouldn’t be moving at the pace of a burdened snail in August.
Nah, the snails would still be moving faster.
We quickly ran down the stairs until we came to a door.
Oh, so now you’re gonna hurry.
Because now we have plot… Right?
Hurry, my ass.
My mom opened it cautiously and we found ourselves in the library. Behind a bookshelf. I would recognize the cherry colored wood anywhere.
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I like how she takes the time to mention the wood, but literally nothing else. No thoughts or feelings. Just “Oh, yeah. ‘Wood’ you look at that!”
We don’t care what the bookshelf looks like. Describe it earlier if you really feel like we ABSOLUTELY need to know.
All Knowing Sue, how I hate you so.
My mom pushed it and it moved forward.
Noooooo. It’s gonna swing backward.
And crush them all between the shelf and wall. THE END.
Yay mom for pushing things!
We all scampered out of the cramped space we were in and my mom didn't even let us take a break from all the running.
Good job team! Nice job doing nothing as usual!
You were standing around for like five minutes while she opened the door, you’re not that winded.
They were standing? I thought they were floating heads.
She ran out of the library and we followed her since she was the only one who knew what was going on.
“Hold on, dawgs. Gotta go to the kitchen to grab some snacks.”
We made it to the front door and she rushed out. She pulled out the garage controller from the pocket of her coat and pressed the button.
I thought the point was to not be detected? The garage door makes a lot of noise. Talk about inconsistency.
Can’t garages be accessed from in the house though? And even if the garage wasn’t attached, there still should have been a door, right?
-Loud, obnoxious, opening sounds- NOTICE US MONSTER-SENPAI!
WHAT WAS THAT? COULD YOU BE A LITTLE LOUDER?
The garage door lifted and my mom ran to the closest car in the garage, which happened to be her black hybrid.
Just say “which happened to be her car.”, We don’t need a vague description of what she drives.
Black hybrid could mean a number of cars…. Or maybe it’s some mythical creature cos its a Percy Jackson story.
Shouldn’t you be more worried about the monster?
"Shotgun." Angel yelled and opened the door.
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Angel clearly has his priorities straightened out.
My mom glared at him and held a finger to her mouth.
There’s no point in being quiet now, you’ve already given yourselves away by opening the garage.
You’re expecting the ‘Satan Spawn’ to be quiet?
The monster comes barreling in and rips them apart. It tosses their entrails like confetti.
Have fun dying! Oh who am I kidding? We aren’t gonna get that lucky.
I’ve told Coffee this, we will never be saved.
I REFUSE TO GIVE UP.
Wow, my mom never glares at people.
Well, she has now.
So you’re mom has NEVER glared at you or Angel for doing something bad? Like using knives on your brother or fighting kids at school?
Turns out looks really do kill and Angel’s body is dumped on the side of the road. No one cares.
We all got in the car and my mom drove.
No shit, she’s the only one with a license.
Unless All Knowing Sue somehow knows how to drive too.
Guys, guys, guys. It was either her or Poseidomort.
She kept on driving until she was running out of gas-
This car must get some shit gas mileage.
They went a total of ONE mile.
No one ever heard from them again.
so she stopped at a gasoline station.
Nooooooo.
Not the Gas station!
Anything but the gas station... *strikes match*
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When she got out of the car to fill the tank I noticed my mom pull out her phone and call someone. They talked for like a minute before she hung up.
Hot damn! Sue didn’t know who mother called, that’s a first.
Could it be that she’s no longer all knowing? 0-0
ʕ◕ᴥ◕ʔ That’ll be the day I quit drinking, Tea.
Ever considered AA meetings Jager?
Yes I have actually.
When my mom finished and got behind the wheel again and started driving, Emily broke the silence we maintained for at least 50 minutes.
Dammit, just had that replaced. You’re cleaning that up, Emily.
ʕ-ᴥ-ʔ We don’t care how long they were silent.
"Who were you talking to ?"
“I was calling Bullshit.”
"Your father, Emily.
Would you look at that...
I told him that we were attacked and I had to get you all to safety."
Attacked? When? Bring on the monster already!
Having this in script format is lazy writing.
At least add spacing like-
 -this, dammit all.
"Mom, what exactly was that screech?"
Me screaming at this story.
Horrid screams of agony.
"It was a," my mom lowered her voice as she kept driving, "a fury."
"What's a fury?" Angel asked, speaking for the first time.
"Don't repeat that name. Names shouldn't be said carelessly. They have power."
“Well you just said it and we’re not dead.”
It was said twice in five seconds. That fury’s gonna be furious.
Badum tss!
"You didn't answer my question."
She doesn’t have to. You’re probably not gonna like the answer anyway.
She should. Maybe that would speed the plot up.
"They are also known as kindly ones. And it was a monster from the underworld."
Where most monsters come from.
" , I know this is an inappropriate question but, are you high?" Angel snickered.
Why are you snickering, you ungrateful brat? Would you like your sorry ass left behind? I’d gladly oblige!
"Sadly, no."
I feel you, mom. I wish I was high to so I didn’t have to read this.
"Mom, you know there is no such thing as monsters. It's only exists in stories." I state firmly.
State firmly? I sincerely hope you said this with as much deadpan as the writing.
I like how the Sue is trying to be the reasonable one here, yet she sounds completely detached from reality and all emotion.
“I should know, because I’M the main character!”
My mom sighs tiredly.
Much like I’m going to curbstomp you enthusiastically.
"You'll believe me when you get there."
She’s probably tired of your constant questioning.
Mom is really sighing because she regrets having you.
 I regret ever reading this.
"Get where?"
“The hell out of my life.”
This is sounding suspiciously like how Percy ended up at the camp.
Well she IS his half-sister.
Still no excuse to use his “how I got here” story.
True, Author is just a lazy fucker. And that’s coming from the bear.
I don’t know what I expected.
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"A special camp. For people like you. Don't you ever wonder why you all have ADHD and dyslexia?"
Never mind the fact that we haven’t seen anything that is suppose to imply they have either of these traits.
You’re explaining it like they’re going to a special needs camp and not explaining at all how this is safer or why there’s a monster chasing them. A+ parenting.
“MY MAMA SAYS I’M SPECIAL!”
"You mean a camp for people with ADHD and dyslexia? That's stupid."
Like this story.
Author expects us to know who’s talking just by they words they used.
Yep, we’re supposed to have telepathic powers.
"It's not stupid Angel. It's a place you will be able to call home and no monsters can get in. You will be safe there."
Still not explaining shit here momma.
Because who needs exposition!
Who needs that when we can talk about dumb teenage stuff?
" , stop the car." My mom and brother ignored Emily and kept argueing about this camp.
Well the best friend has been invisible thus far, so why would it change now?
Better give her a reason to still be here. She’s Punching Bag #2 remember?
Emily has been demoted from Punching Bag #2 to Who?
" , stop the car!" Then I realized my mom wasn't watching the road,
What were you so enamored with that you noticed next to nothing until your friend-not-friend pointed it out?
she was looking at Angel and in the middle of the road was what looked to be a very buff man.
Arnold? Is that really you? It IS you!
Terminator?
Yesssh.  ʕ◕0◕ʔ
Holy run on sentence, Batman!
When my mom looked at the road she stopped but she still ran over the guy.
How do you stop, but STILL run over someone? Is it raining that badly that you literally slide despite being stopped? Wait, is it even raining?
Evidently the car was going so fast that they couldn’t stop fast enough.
Yay for reckless driving!
But monster? The one whose chasing you? Y’know what? Never mind. Just forget I said anything.
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"Holy shit."
No exclamation mark? No description of his reaction? Any KIND of EMOTION there? No? Okay.
I believe this is supposed to be a really lame attempt at conveying shock.
“Oh no, we hit someone... I’m hungry. Who wants burgers?”
"Angel, language."
This is hardly the time to tell your son to watch his cursing.
I thought we were in a hurry away from the monster. Not sitting here and waiting for it to get up.
They keep lollygagging like they weren’t just trying to outrun a monster.
"Oh my god! We just ran over a person!" Me and Emily were freaking out and Angel looked like he was going to through up.
What is this supposed to be? A delayed reaction?
Throw up. Through is what I’m going to do when I put you through the fucking wall!
I’m going to through up because of this writing…
My mom was the only one not worried.
She backed up and ran it over again. And again. And again.
I mean, technically she was the one that ran over the guy since she's driving. How can she not be freaked out?! He might be dead.
If you listened to the lack of words that came out of her mouth earlier. You’re being chased by a monster.
/╲/\╭  ʕಠᴥಠʔ╮/\╱\  Here’s a monster.
“Monster?! There was a monster?!”
And if he's dead we're all going to jail! Crap. I might go to jail.
Glad to see that you’re still looking after your own hide.
No, you’re too young for jail, dumbass, you’d go to juvie.
Do you really think the author cares for the specifics when it come to stuff like law? 
"I'm going to check to see if he's okay." I was about to open the door when it suddenly locked.
Yes, check to see if the OVERSIZED BUFFCAKE is okay.
They’re  just asking to get smashed into a bloody paste. They’re still sitting on top of the monster if you go by how this is written.
Let her go. It’s better that way. Too dumb to live, remember?
She’ll just come back like the cockroach she is.
"You are not going out there. He is fine.
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What are you doing?! Throw it in reverse and run it over again!
And even if he did die, all that would be left is ashes." With that my mom started driving again.
Not ashes. It’s gold dust. Did you read the books or see the movies?
Actually the gold dust is just a movie thing. In the books they dissolved into a yellow sulfur dust.
Either way it’s yellow, not ash.
Just gonna pretend that never happened. Never mind if it get’s back up and chases us down.
Because death is what the mother wants right now.
As me and Emily looked out the back window we saw the man get up and turn to us. And then I realized he wasn't human.
You just now realized this?
Because no human can run after they were ran over by a car. And no human had horns and a furry face.
You have night vision now?
20 bucks says it’s the Minotaur.
My, we just love to state the obvious don’t we Katherine?
We love this totally original scene.
It looked like a monster.
No shit, Sherlock.
Naaah, it’s a giant bipedal buffcake bull. His name is Tom.
He just wanted a hug. :(
He’s big and scary on the outside, but a precious little cinnabun on the inside! (´;︵;`)
He’s real gentle we promise! He looked so cute at prom in his little tux. ʕಥᴥಥʔ So precious.
A monster that was running after us very fast.
Yes, and I hope it kills you.
Yes my pet, kill them.
FEAST MY PRETTY!
OMNOMNOMNOMNOM!
If this guy is a human, he must have been a test subject.
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You acknowledged that it wasn’t human three sentences ago, you dumb broad. 
How would you know the kind of testing that could do that?
Someone has been watching way too much sci fi.
I faced forward, suddenly realizing that what my mom said was true. There are things such as monsters.
You should have realized that about five minutes ago with the fury screaming and the big bull man that you just ran over.
So much for being all knowing, am I right guys?
You have consistently proven your lack of intelligence.
"So where is this camp?"
“IN HELL.”
“Up yer bum you smelly child.”
Oh so now you’re choosing to listen to your mom. *slow claps* Way to go main character.
They’re just going to ignore the monster chasing them down, aye? I’m down with that.
As long as it kills them yeah?
Least she didn’t lose her mom… Yet. I can already tell dear mom’s gonna die sometime soon.
I read ahead, and yes this does in fact happen.
FUCK.
So much for originality.
DEATH TO ORIGINALITY. DEATH TO CANON! BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GODS, SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!
I AM FEMALE PERCY JACKSON! MY REAL NAME IS PERCIE!
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CONCLUSION
I have some complaints. One: This chapter copied near perfectly the way Percy got to camp, +1 for originality pal. Two: Hitting something as big as a Minotaur would not just stop a car, it would completely total that thing. Have you ever seen a DEER get hit by a car? They do a lot of fucking damage to the car, and a deer is waaaaay smaller than a Minotaur. I’m sorry but that Minotaur would’ve grabbed that car and flung it like a twig. Also, the slow pace of this chapter was, as Tea said before, like a burdened snail. The mother is the only character I can sympathize with currently. I cared less for how Katherine tried to be convince everyone monsters don’t exist, yet she had just heard a FUCKIGN FURY screech earlier, and it took RUNNING OVER A FUCKING MINOTAUR to get it through her thick skull. This ‘OC’ is so deep inside herself that she can’t open her eyes until the truth smacks her in the face. Jagerbomb is not please. ʕಠ╭╮ಠʔ. 1/10.
 The main issue I had with this story is that it was extremely contradictory, had little to no emotion when it came to character interactions and was very uninteresting to read. Although the author tried to make it interesting, it failed miserably. I care less for Emily and her friend (Main OC), I can’t empathize with either one. They both are flat and uninteresting and are unconvincing as people. The only ones I can even remotely empathize with is the mom and the brother, but even then they need some work.  
 As the story progresses, I care less and less about the OC and whatever ripoff adventure they embark on. I’ve never rooted for the death of a single character as much before. You can not convince me that these things are actual people with actual thoughts and feelings. Not with that writing anyhow. All I can see is that the author was making her character out to be all important, the reasonable likable hero. She either looks like an ass or an idiot. No in between, no redemption. It  just keeps getting worse. The author apparently thinks that if the characters take a really long time, it would add tension. It looks dumb, sounds dumb, and is unnecessary. These people should have been dead already instead of wasting my goddamn time. 1/10 At least your writing is consistent.
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vapecould · 4 years ago
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VAPE PODS: HOW TO CHOOSE THE RIGHT DEVICE FOR NICOTINE SALTS
With the introduction of nic salts into the vape industry many questions on which vape pod device works best are being asked. The options available can be confusing. But in this guide, we'll show you that selecting a vape pod for vaping salt nic is really not that hard.
Thanks to the innovation of vaping, the number of vaping devices out there to choose from can be paralyzing.
For smokers who have been accustomed to the simple act of buying a pack of cigarettes and smoking it, vaping can seem like a daunting task. We totally get it. With all of the buttons, flashing lights, customizations, and advanced features, it can be a bit of a time-suck to figure out how it all works. The good news here is that we can make your life easier by simplifying everything. If you read our beginner’s guide to nicotine salts, then you probably want to know if you should get an open or a closed system. No need to fret, we can help you decide what the benefits and drawbacks are before buying your first nicotine salt device.
WHAT IS A VAPE POD?
To get familiar with the vaping lingo, nicotine salt devices that are open/closed systems are categorized under vape pods or pod mods. Vape pods are electronic cigarettes that have disposable pods and have a combination of high resistance and low wattage features that make it ultra-portable and perfect for smokers who are new to vaping. Vape pod mods are marketed as a starter’s kit as they offer the choice of either open (refillable) or closed (not refillable) pod systems to help you find a device that will help you quit smoking cigarettes. Essentially, pod systems are a mix between e-cigarettes and vape pens that have been revamped to meet the standards of today’s vaping technology.
Common characteristics of nicotine salt pod systems: ·Ultra-Portable and compact design ·Low wattage (ex. 16 watts) ·High resistance (ex.  1.3 ohm coils) ·Pods usually holds no more than 2 ml of nicotine salt e-liquids ·Either auto-draw or one button ·Either buy pre-filled pods/cartridges or refillable cartridges Remember, when you choose a vaping device for nicotine salts, make sure that it’s not a high wattage sub-ohm device. Nicotine salts have high nicotine strength and are not made for high wattage sub-ohm devices due to the risks of taking excessive nicotine. Pod systems have become increasingly popular in the last year due to its simplistic design and cigarette-like satisfaction it gives smokers.
CLOSED SYSTEM VAPE PODS
Closed system vape pods are essentially devices made for pre-filled cartridges. The ready-filled cartridges/pods are disposed of after use and are replaced with a new cartridge. The pod filled e-liquids contain nicotine salts in varying nicotine strengths (20-55 mg) and usually comes in packs of 4 or 5. One way to look at it is that closed systems are similar to coffee pod brewers. In order to get your delicious coffee in the morning, you insert a coffee pod or k-cup of your liking and you’re ready to go. Closed system vape pods work the same way. Depending on the brand of the closed system device, the company offers a selection of flavors to choose from just as you would buy a pack of cigarettes at your local convenience store. The only difference is that you would have to recharge your device instead of finding you're lighter somewhere in your pocket. Not only are closed vape pod systems just as easy to use as a cigarette, it packs the same cigarette punch.
BENEFITS OF CLOSED PODS ·Hassle-free alternative - No need to make a mess while refilling since the pre-filled pods are easily replaceable ·Low Maintenance - No need to buy coils or have to clean the tank ·Low Profile - the sleek design fits easily into your pockets and feels natural in your hand. Furthermore, no need to carry around e-liquid bottles and it produces less vapor ·Low Investment - Closed systems on average go anywhere from 12 to 50 dollars. Plus, you don’t have to spend your time figuring out how to use your device ·User-friendly - Intuitive design, usually draw-activated and at most, only one button to press ·Easily switch flavors by using different cartridges and no need to change cotton or coils
DOWNSIDES OF CLOSED PODS
·Limited Selection of Flavor and Nicotine strength as you are restricted to the flavor and nicotine selection of the brand of device ·Weak draw - closed system is known to have tighter draws which can make it difficult to hit ·Vapor production is better compared to the older model of e-cigarettes and vape pens but does not perform as well as high powered devices due to the size of the battery ·Spitbacks can occur while vaping - spitbacks occur when the e-liquid bounces off the coil instead of vaporizing, similar to when water is boiling and water pops out ·Low battery life due to the battery size and can be a con for vapers who have to recharge frequently ·Costlier than open system vape pods depending on your daily vaping habits and due to pods holding fewer e-liquids than open systems. The average price per pod is around 3 to 5 dollars. However, much cheaper than smoking cigarettes. If you want a no-frills product and you just care about a device that delivers nicotine efficiently, then closed system is a perfect device for you. The only thing you have to worry about is recharging your battery and buying nicotine salt pods. Before you set your mind on closed system devices, take a look at what open system devices have to offer.
OPEN SYSTEM PODS
Open system vape pods are devices that allow you to manually refill nicotine salt e-juice. Unlike the closed system devices, you can buy any bottle of nicotine salt e-liquid at varying nicotine strengths to find a flavor that suits you best.  Think about ordering your favorite kind of coffee and brewing it in your coffee maker. The freedom to choose any flavor can help you play around with the flavors until you find that right one.
BENEFITS OF OPEN PODS ·Wider Range of Flavors and Nicotine Strength - more options to choose from and are not limited to the brands' offerings ·Smoother draw allows for more vapor production and better mouth to lung action ·User-friendly as the device either needs one button pressed or are auto-draw ·Low Profile design make it ultra-compact and portable which make it good for a night out with friends ·Low Investment since open system devices cost around 12 to 50 dollars and it is not much of a time investment compared to learning high powered mods ·More economical than closed systems and up to 85% savings compared to smoking a pack a day
DOWNSIDES OF OPEN SYSTEM PODS ·Inconvenience - You have to refill e-liquids manually and have to change coils or replace cartridge after several uses ·Switching flavors is a hassle unless you have a separate pod filled with a different flavor ·Vapor production is limited due to battery size and it can be a drawback for those who want to get the maximum vapor. ·Low battery life is one of the downsides of the vape pods in general but it is also faster to recharge as well If you are more explorative and want to find that right flavor, then open systems are perfect for you. With open systems, you can enjoy the flexibility that open systems have to offer and make it easier to transition to high wattage device if you prefer to.
CLOSED SYSTEM VS OPEN SYSTEM: WHICH IS BETTER?
If you want to successfully put an end to your cigarette habit for good, it’s imperative to choose a device that will work for you. It’s not about which device is better than the other. But more so, what your preferences are and what suits you best. Both systems have their advantages and disadvantages but with the savings, you will get from switching to vaping, you can even try out both to see what works best for you. Vape pods, in general, have advantages and disadvantages that are found in both open vs closed systems:
SIMILAR ADVANTAGES: ·User-friendliness ·Low investment ·Low profile and pocket-friendly ·Cheaper than smoking cigarettes ·Higher nicotine strengths
SIMILAR DISADVANTAGES: ·Vapor production ·Low battery life ·Limited devices to choose from ·Leakage issues
The universal advantage of vape pods comes down to convenience and simplicity. Using pod systems gives users cigarette-like nicotine satisfaction. The high nicotine strengths in nicotine salt will give you the instant rush. Many have said that vaping nicotine salts have been effective in curbing their cravings. The user-friendliness of these devices is in stark contrast to the high powered devices that have become popular today. With pod systems only being draw-activated, it allows smokers to easily transition to vaping as a fuss-free alternative. The ultra-portable design fits in your hand naturally and slides in your pocket with ease. Your pockets will appreciate the extra room, trust me ;) Not only are they significantly cheaper than smoking cigarettes, the devices do not cost a fortune. Even if you choose to buy an open system, changing coils are not as high maintenance as you might think since you will only be changing it at most twice a week. The perceived disadvantage that comes with vape pods is due to the sacrifices made to make an ultra-compact design. Due to battery size, the battery life may be short-lived in comparison to high wattage device. However, recharging the battery does not take long as some devices may only take 30 minutes to charge at full battery levels. Other devices claim to last up to a whole day depending on use. The minimalistic design also affects the vapor production and those who are used to more airier draws, the vapor production may seem lackluster. But don’t be discouraged, the build quality on these devices are far superior to the earlier version of cigalikes and you won’t be disappointed. Also, keep in mind that these devices do not require as much vapor to deliver the same amount of nicotine as high wattage devices. Another drawback that some have reported are leaking issues. Although vape juice leaking isn’t frequent, it can be a bit of an inconvenience to get paper towels and clean your device. Leakage can be prevented by handling the mouthpiece and inserting the pod gently. Another suggestion would be is to use the optimal PG and VG ratios that the device manufacturer has recommended. Lastly, due to the relative newness of these products, the mainstream market is limited to a select few to choose from. Each device on the market has slightly different characteristics and performance. Those who are not happy with one device don’t have the luxury of choosing from a wide variety of pod devices. The lack of options in the market will start to decline as more manufacturers are adopting the pod systems with the increasing popularity of these devices.
FINAL DECISION: CLOSED OR OPEN POD SYSTEM?
If you want to get into vaping without all the fuss, closed systems are the best option for you. Closed system offers a hassle-free alternative with the starter kits already packaged with pre-filled pods and are ready to be vaped out of the box. Whereas with open systems, you will have to buy nicotine salt vape juice separately. Closed systems also do not require you to buy coils making it low maintenance and fuss-free. The only downside is that you will spend more money in the long run buying pre-filled pods as well as being restricted to a limited selection of flavor since pods are not universal. Even though, open systems allow for greater flexibility, you will not be able to switch flavors during the day as easily as closed systems. Although, you can prepare for this by putting different flavors in different cartridges/tanks. If you tend to be more patient and would like to have a greater degree of flexibility, then open systems are the best option for you. Either way, both devices are built to pack a punch that will leave you satisfied and possibly, please your nicotine craving and keep you away from smoking cigarettes. Visit now for Best Vape Starter Kits in UK
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sassyginger · 6 years ago
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Numbers
Our world is surrounded by numbers. From the day we're born to the day we die. Our days here on earth. The amount of money we make every year. The time we spend earning those numbers. The numbers on our credit cards. The numbers on our banks. The time we spent to get the degree for said job. The time we didn't spend. Our friend group or lack thereof. The prices of the food we eat. The numbers of the nutritious value on the food. The weight we gain or lose from the food. The numbers on the scale of the young college girl on the scale. Her age, 23. The number on her pants that society deems her "thin" or "fat". The number of her breast size. Her shirt size, her shoe size, her ring size, her height, and so on and so forth. Numbers are all around her. Whether she likes it or not, number define her. Right down to the number she is given by the government when she is born that is hers and hers alone.
6:45 am. The day is June 22 and the young woman looks down at the scale at her feet. 180.2 it reads. Some may think this is not a bad number and others would say this is a big number. She looks at herself in the mirror. For the past few months, it's been a struggle to lose weight. Looking at her, no one would think that she was obese. But by heath standards set by the CDC, her weight and height defines her as obese. With a BMI of 31.9, she is considered obese. She sighs and kicks the scale away.
She dresses for the day, Friday. Casual Friday, meaning jeans and an elegant black and white striped top with a comfortable pair of grey flats. She puts on her rings. One a thin plain band made of 14 karat gold. Her second ring is a Claddagh ring made of sterling silver; the hands that hold the crowned heart are trinity knots. The third ring is a simple thin silver band with 12 studs. She prepares her breakfast and gathers her purse, double checking her badge is in its pocket for when she arrives at her place of employment. Time ticks faster and she scrambles to brush her teeth and grab 10 mg of escitalopram.
7:10 am. Her car is red. A Volkswagen Jetta that she shares with her 20 year old brother. She checks the gas. Still a full tank. She presses the start button and drives off. In the morning, it takes about 16 minutes to drive the 7.7 miles to her place of employment. She enjoys working there. It's a summer internship that she has been working at for 51 days. At $20/hr, she doesn't complain. She flashes a smile at the security officer who checks her badge. She wishes them a good morning as she always does and parks in the same spot. The second parking spot on the 1st floor of the parking garage.
7:30 am. She sets her purse in the first drawer and turns on her computer. She grabs a 16oz cup and fills it with water from the water cooler. Every morning a different group hangs out in the kitchenette around the two coffee pots talking about what they did the night before. She sets her cup down and logs in. She checks her email and begins on completing the task she was delegated to do for the week.
9 am. She knows the names of some of the workers. They know her name too. With having to work with them all week, they have warmed up to her and wish her a good morning every time they see her. She completes her tasks and continues on to the next one, in order of importance. She works with 3 other interns and is the single girl in their group. She works hard, or at least she thinks she does.
12pm. Lunch. She sits with her boss and the 3 other interns for lunch. A woman also joins them, an intelligent woman who has been with the company for 11 years. There is normally a man who also joins them, but he is on vacation with his girlfriend in Aruba. She turns on the data on her phone and checks her social media: Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat. She doesn't go on Facebook any longer. She's tired of the app and the drama that comes with it from family members. She sees a snap from her crush, a young man the same age as her brother. She knows he does not share the same feelings as her, but every day she hopes that something will change his mind.
It is unhealthy for her mind, to constantly hope for love. To always be checking her snapchat for a message from him. She hasn't told anyone about her feelings for him. To wish for someone to love her, for someone to share her life with. It is a constant fear that she will never find anyone. That no one will ever love her, and at her current fragile state, it is quite unhealthy. She knows this, but she refuses to follow her own advice and would rather follow a thin strand of hope.
Photography is prohibited at her employment as it is a multimillion dollar company that deals with health care. She doesn't respond but rather waits until her work day is over to respond. She puts down the phone and speaks with her coworkers about anything and everything. She knows a few other faces in the lunch room from her high school days. They are parents of her teammates that she talks to everyday.
3pm. She leaves for the day. Saying good bye and have a good weekend to everyone she sees. She drives home; in the afternoon, it takes 3 extra minutes to get home because of traffic. She makes it home and her dog greets her at the door, twisting in circles and licking her. Her other dog wags his tail on the floor, hearing her but not seeing her. The poor dog is blind and almost 12 years old. She pets him too, making her presence known to him.
3:45pm. She turns on Netflix and grabs a cup of extra cheddar blasted gold fish. She watches the movie and pets her dogs. Her mom sits at the computer, as she still lives at home while she attends college. She watches and thinks and an wave of sadness overcomes her out of nowhere.
5:57 pm. She laces her sneakers and grabs her iPod. She walks with her dog and listens to music. Trying to work off the extra pounds she gained from the previous day. The feeling on her brain does not waiver and she continues to try and enjoy her music. The air is cool, the clouds in the sky growing darker with the coming storms. She walks and walks, lungs inhaling and exhaling.
7pm. Her mom informs her that her niece and older brother may not be coming to visit. A visit she had been looking forward to since she found out in December. She becomes silent and distant even more than she was a few hours before. She doesn't feel loved. She lays on the soft carpet and puts her head in her arms. Her brother does not love her, she thinks. No one loves her.
10 pm. She wishes her family a good night. She takes a long time to brush her teeth. She makes her way to the medicine cabinet. She tries getting a tablet of allergy medicine but more than one fall on the counter. A normal person would put the medicine away. She looks. For a moment, she considers it. It would be so easy. She could swallow all of them. She grabs one and swallows it. She grabs the others and puts them back in the bottle and puts the bottle away.
She lays in bed. Starring up at the ceiling. She thinks about it. She believes she is unloved. She knows her parents loves her and she knows her family loves her, but her mind tells her they don't. She believes it. Our lives are defined by the numbers around us. Hers is defined by the number of times she thought about shortening her days on earth. Her life is defined by the number of milligrams she takes to suppress the toxic thoughts.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
We can all help prevent suicide. The Lifeline provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones, and best practices for professionals.
1-800-273-8255
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