#Part 5 or Silver’s nervous breakdown

[rakiah]

You can’t imagine how I cried for that damn acorn bracelet. I knew it but I still cried for it D A M N

[bite-the-bloody-hand]

6 SONG SOUNDTRACK (PART 3 - BLUEGRASS)

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following: 1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End Credits song

This is a very special mixtape. Today would've been my dad's 69th birthday (nice, pops) and in honor of him, this playlist comes from his personal record collection. I cannot stress enough that this man was a deeply closeted bisexual from Chicago who rode a horse exactly once and hated it the entire time. He was the farthest thing from a cowboy you could possibly get, excepting, of course, the loads of pot he smoked (and dealt), but god damn did he love him some country music. So here's to you, Mongo. This is the soundtrack for the gayass cowboy stoner action comedy epic you'd insist you only like for the soundtrack … kinda like how the Mapplethorpe flower print in your living room was 'just because you liked the flower.' <3

Spotify || Youtube music ||Part 1 - Disco ||Part 2 - Post-Punk GothRock

1 THE DOOBIE BROTHERS - Steamer Lane Breakdown [instrumental]

It's always about the leaving with Zell - running away from 'home' in Ustalav was the first huge decision he made for himself. He looks back on leaving with fondness, it was a moment of true joy, a wild and boundless freedom he hadn't felt in a long time.

2 EMMYLOU HARRIS - Born To Run

Well, I take the chances, sometimes I made mistakes But you don't get nothing unless you take the breaks Living is dangerous as dynamite Sure it makes you feel nervous, but it makes you feel alright Makes you feel alright

He's ambitious, but not so much competing with anyone else as competing with himself; finding out who he really is. He's impatient to find out what living really feels like.

3 GREGG ALLMAN - Midnight Rider

And I don't own the clothes I'm wearing And the road goes on forever And I've got one more silver dollar But I'm not gonna let 'em catch me, no Not gonna let 'em catch the midnight rider

Zell's stories of being a wanderer travel as far as the rest of his more imposing reputation; the idea that he's a criminal on the run (not… 100% untrue), a vagabond and roving lover (also not 100% untrue he just didn't believe anyone else was as serious about him as he could have been about them) are romantic ideas that really catch on among the general public. He doesn't disabuse people of this, because he digs how cool it makes him sound and not like. A kinda pathetic loser who's terrified of commitment.

4 THE MARSHALL TUCKER BAND - Heard It In A Love Song

I'm the kind of man who likes to get away Like to start dreaming 'bout tomorrow today Never said that I love you even though it's so Where's that duffel bag of mine, it's time to go

I've always interpreted this song in a playful tone, like the singer has no intention of actually leaving. He's teasing the idea, but knows he's already so far gone that there's no way he's finding anything better down the road; after a certain point, Zell gets the same way. It takes the right kind of person to keep him off the road.

5 NITTY GRITTY DIRT BAND - Foggy Mountain Breakdown [Instrumental]

Zell can't count how many bar fights he's gotten in when this exact song was playing on the jukebox but it's enough that he has something of a Pavlovian reaction to it now.

6 WILLIE NELSON - Roll Me Up And Smoke Me When I Die* (Feat. Snoop Dogg, Kris Kristofferson, Jamey Jonson)

When I'd go, I'll have been here long enough So sing and tell more jokes and dance and stuff Just keep the music playing, that'll be a good goodbye Roll me up and smoke me when I die

One of the most exciting things about finding yourself and falling in love with life is accepting the end will come, and making sure it'll be a damn good party when it does.

*Our outsider track of the list - it came out a few days after Dad passed. This one's close to my heart for that reason especially. We did in fact smoke out and play this at his memorial, it was a wonderful goodbye. I'm getting high as hell at this very moment, in his honor.

[she-karev]

Trying to Get Pregnant (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister)

Previous Part Here

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Two of Five

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy/Station 19

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 18 Episode 17/Season 5 Episode 17

Summary: Amber volunteers at the station while Andrew helps Link with his patient.

AN: The GIF above is Amber's outfit for the Station 19 clinic

Words: 2075

February 18th, 2022

Andrew pulls the silver Honda Civic out in front of station 19 to drop off Amber who is looking at the statistics concerning clinics for low income or homeless communities in Seattle that aggravate her.

“You know there are only 30 free clinics in Seattle? And most of them aren’t actually free? In a city where homelessness has increased by over five percent since covid started there are still doctors who prefer patients with money instead of taking the time to treat those who fell under the cracks of this broken system. If you subtract the ones that demand insurance there are only 10 clinics that treat patients no questions asked.”

“And now there are 11 with the Station 19 clinic.” Andrew points out, “It’s baby steps babe.”

“I know.” Amber puts her phone away in her purse, “I just hope our kid doesn’t grow up in a world where people have to choose bankruptcy or death.”

“Me too. Hopefully your stubbornness and ambition will scare the world into buckling down.” Andrew leans over and starts to kiss Amber who responds. He opens his eyes and sees Jo Karev standing on the sidewalk in her casual clothes and lab coat by the front door looking impatiently at them. He regretfully pulls back, “You better go, Jo is waiting.”

Amber frowns and groans as she looks behind her to see Jo raising an eyebrow at her from her spot by the front entrance. She shrugs and turns back to her husband, “Well that just makes me want to keep going.” She kisses Andrew again, who is pleased.

“Mm.” He speaks against her lips, “You’re such a rebel.” They both chuckle as they kiss before Amber pulls back to her disdain as she knows work is waiting.

She groans with a smile at her husband before getting out of the car, “I love you, have a nice day.”

“You too, I’ll see you tonight.”

“You better.” Amber says in a low breath before closing the door and waving at her husband as he drives away. She goes up the steps of the sidewalk and greets her sister-in-law who has a grin, “Good morning.”

“It looks like it is for you.” Jo teases at Amber who shrugs unashamed before Jo motions to the door, “Shall we Dr. DeLuca?”

Amber nods eagerly, “Let’s save some lives.”

Later

Andrew is in his navy-blue scrubs and lab coat guiding a paramedic inside as he wheels a patient inside the pit. Link enters the pit surprised to find his friend there.

“Take her to trauma one, thanks.” Andrew tells the paramedic before going over the tablet.

“Bailey’s got you covering the pit too?”

Andrew shakes his head, “No Jo was supposed to but to prevent one of my in-law’s from having a nervous breakdown I offered to lessen her load. She and Amber and Carina are at the station’s clinic.” Andrew goes behind the station to input the chart, “Hey I want to ask you something, what restaurants do you recommend for a romantic date night?”

Link raises an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

Andrew is busy with the chart to look at the sour look on Link’s face, “Yeah I’m taking Amber out tonight, she’s at the station volunteering and I wanted to do something special for us.”

“Dude I am the very last person you want to ask about romance.” Link tells him bitterly, “Did you page me for this?”

Andrew raises an eyebrow offended, “No. Bed four and if you can help it try not to dim the lights around him.” He hands Link the tablet and walks toward the patient, “Patient came in with abdominal pain and vomiting. The wife says he's your patient.”

Kristen sees Link and stands up, “Dr. Lincoln.”

Link hugs Kristen and hears Helm recite his chart while DeLuca is busy with the patient in the next bed listening in, “Simon Clark, 38, status post synovial sarcoma resection four years ago, has been undergoing chemoradiation for recurrent lung mets.”

“We got this one, Helm.” The resident leaves them and Link speaks to Simon, “Thought I told you to take it easy.”

“Mm, so no 5k next month?” Simon jokes despite his state.

Kristen explains, “This morning I found him in the nursery barely able to breathe. He's nauseous, can't eat. I think it's his chemo, but he was adamant about trying to finish putting together the crib.”

“Would you let your mother-in-law build your kid's crib? I'm supposed to build the crib.” Andrew grins at that sharing the feeling already even when Amber isn’t pregnant yet.

“It's your job to stay alive, Simon.” Kristen tells him, “That's your job.”

Link decides the plan, “Okay, we'll get you some scans, we'll see what's going on, and we'll make you comfortable while we admit you. And no one will build any more furniture. Deal?”

“Deal.” Kristen demands and Simon relents.

“Deal.”

Link goes to Andrew and quietly asks, “I could use a general consult to see what’s causing the abdominal pain, are you free?”

“Yeah. I’ll get Hunt to cover my service.” Andrew pages Hunt and follows Link to radiology where they scan Simon. 10 minutes later they walk down the hall to see the scans in the screening room and Link explains Simon’s story to Andrew.

“Four years ago, he came in as a newlywed with stage two synovial sarcoma of the knee. And we tried every treatment possible while they tried to start a family. But between the chemo, radiation, and surgery, it took them until eight months ago to conceive.” Andrew feels bad for Simon knowing the feeling of wanting to be a dad but not the struggle that comes from his condition, “He made me promise he'd be here long enough to meet his kid.”

They enter the screening room and wait for the images to show up, “Okay well the symptoms could be chemo related.”

“I hope so.” Link says before adding, “Listen man I’m sorry for how I snapped at you earlier. I guess I’m still bitter over how everything went down with Amelia and you planning a romantic date with your gorgeous wife kind of brought that back. I can give you some lists if you want.”  

“It’s fine, Amber isn’t fancy I could lay out hamburgers on fine China and she’d think it was high class.”

Link grins, “You know you married someone way out of your league, right?”

“Oh, trust me I know.” Andrew agrees with a grin before the scans come up, cutting the moment short as it shows bad news.

Link looks at the scans sad, “Crap.”

Andrew looks at the scans closely, “Mass in the ileum, it’s almost obstructing his small bowel. I’m sorry.”

Link sighs at the diagnosis, “How am I gonna tell him it's progressing even faster?”

“We just do it.”

Link looks surprised by him using ‘we’, “It’s my patient.”

“Who has a mass in his small intestine which I am trained to operate on.”

Link gets worried due to his friend being a second year attending who barely did surgeries his first year due to covid, “Have you done this before? Solo?”

“Yeah, the one good thing about the backlogs is that you get to operate on anything in a short span of time. I can try to resect the tumor at the bowel segment, buy him some more time. You can scrub in; you’ve operated on him before and if this goes sideways you can step in.”

Link nods, “Yeah, let’s go.” Link and DeLuca exit the room to lay out their plan to Simon.

Later at Station 19

Amber sets up the exam rooms with Carina and Jo before the clinic opens. After the green card interview was scheduled Carina tasked Amber and Jo with asking her questions about Maya that she would have to answer to prove their marriage is legitimate.

“Favorite food?”

“Papaya.”

“Papaya?” Jo asks surprised, “My favorite food is anything with cheese and I’m pretty sure there’s no fruit with cheese.”

“Well, you’re not a gold winning Olympian who should be captain of a fire station if it wasn’t for bureaucracy and macho men.” Carina defends her wife to Jo who looks at Amber.

“Fishing for compliments.” Amber explains.

“You don’t need confirmation on how awesome your wife is.”

“Yes but I do need questions that will keep me here so I can keep telling you.” Carina reminds the sisters who nod.

Jo asks, “Favorite color?”

Carina thinks, “Um…red.”

“Cremation or burial?” Jo scoffs at Amber’s question both amused and horrified.

Carina chuckles, “What? Do you think ICE is curious on whether I know my wife wants her body in ashes or in a casket?”

Amber helps Carina set up a sheet on a gurney that serves as an exam table, “Hey you said to cover all the basis and ICE are a bunch of macho rednecks who want to keep America pure. And that includes kicking good doctors like you back to your home country.”

“Yeah, she makes a point Carina.” Travis joins in from the exam room next door, “And if you’re an American you can vote for anybody but Michael Dixon as mayor of Seattle. Unless you want your future kid taken from you because of some law he passes where gay couples can’t raise babies together.”

“Great start to an smear campaign Montgomery.” Amber tells him sarcastically.

“I’m sorry it’s just that it frustrates me that politicians like Michael Dixon are so focused on how they can flex their power instead of how they can use that power to tackle real issues like immigration or healthcare or literally every issue that Dixon makes worse.”

“He’s not gonna win.” Jo tells Travis who is still fuming.

“You don’t know that. I mean look at the guys we already have in the white house, I’m sure some of them have done twice as many crimes as Dixon and yet people voted for them.”

Amber nods in agreement, “This argument is exactly why I am apolitical.”

Sullivan chuckles a few feet from them joining in to Carina’s annoyance, “Yeah politics are too confusing for me, it’s why I hardly vote.” Amber and Jo look at Sullivan confused, and he steps forward to introduce himself. Travis sees a disaster coming and quickly walks away, “Hi, Lieutenant Robert Sullivan.”

Jo shakes his hand, “Hi I’m Dr. Jo Karev, this is my sister, Dr. Amber DeLuca.” Amber faces Robert with a sly grin remembering him in less than favorable ways.

Robert nods remembering her as well, “Right we actually met before at Maya and Carina’s wedding you went there as guy DeLuca’s date.”

“Oh yeah I remember you.” Amber says with a fake grin, “You’re the cutthroat son of a bitch who got Maya demoted at her wedding.”

Sullivan frowns at that in surprise at her bluntness as she continues, “My husband described you that first which is usually expected of me, so it is impressive you got my peaceful man that angry.” Carina grins proudly at her sister-in-law defending Maya out of view from the group while Jo stands next to Amber looking uncomfortable.

Robert frowns at that, “I see I have fans with Bishops extended family as well.”

“Trust me you don’t, along with the new fire chief we imagined your head exploding from your macho ego.” Robert opens his mouth to explain but Amber holds up her hand and continues, “And before you mansplain to get me on your side, I recommend you save it because I already hate you and I am hardly a person who changes their mind after one speech.”

Robert frowns at that and keeps quiet as Amber turns to Jo who presses her lips at the scene before facing Amber, “I’m gonna set up more exam rooms.”

Jo supports that wanting her not to cause a scene, “You do that.” Amber walks away from them leaving Sullivan with Jo and Carina who comes back to them with a satisfied grin.

Robert pops his mouth, “She seems nice.”

Carina chuckles at that knowing how her sister-in-law can seem to strangers and people she detests, “Trust me that was her being nice especially towards you.” Carina walks away from Sullivan to get more supplies.

Jo and Sullivan stand there for a moment alone awkwardly before Jo speaks, “I’m gonna…” Jo walks away from Sullivan relieved to be away from the awkwardness.

Next Part Here

[anewbeginningagain]

Kamila said in the k&c “at least now they won’t cancel the ceremony”. This is heartbreaking. I feel disgusted. The fact that she felt guilty because others would be punished because of her, when she’s the VICTIM, is so upsetting.

It is, but you know as upsetting as this was I think we expected it. I mean I thought she'll either nail it or have a meltdown and a meltdown she had.

But what I think none of us expected is Sasha Trusova's reaction. I have seen people disappointed before, I've seen skaters crying before, but never in my life have I seen someone have a full-blown borderline nervous breakdown in front of the camera. It was horrible because she had nowhere to hide but also she was feeling it to such an extent that she barely cared who is around her. It was the wildest thing. And there's a part of me who judges her for it because with all the respect I have for her (and I have a lot), she is still one of the most overscored skaters out there, who should be scoring 20-25 points lower even with the quads in her arsenal and she was crying over winning an Olympic silver medal that she honestly doesn't really deserve.

But then I stop and remember how this quad looked for her. She started it by always finishing 3rd behind Shcherbakova and Kostornaia and being so done with it that she moved to train with Plushenko. Then, to her dismay, her teammate followed her there and she still ended up finishing 3rd at nationals behind Anna and Kamila and then again 3rd at Worlds behind Anna and Liza. Then she was probably forced to go back to Eteri where she started the season getting injured and missing half of the season but then managing a 2nd at nationals but once again 3rd at Europeans. During all of this time she is being abused and gaslighted into thinking if she could just land those 5 quads she'll win it all, and then finally at the Olympics she landed 5 quads and ended up losing again even after Valieva had a meltdown and dropped off the podium. For her she is never enough, it's like no matter what she will do she will never win. She felt cheated and betrayed and I think she has reached her breaking point because she didn't even think beyond that moment. The Olympics were her goal and she was so laser-focused that she lost track of the rest of it. And now it's gone and she didn't win. And she is in an environment that has abused her and that doesn't know how to handle that kind of behavior (there's no wonder that the one who won it all is the least "problematic" one of them all).

It's tragic that this is how it went down, it's tragic that we all had to witness it, it's tragic that all three of these girls won't be there in 4 years and now have their Olympic memory ruined. I feel bad for Trusova even if I think there's a part of her reaction that is completely self-absorbed and entitled. I give her a pass for it because of everything I said, but I won't lie, it's not easy to realize that she is also unable to understand the damage that the situation she's involved in caused to so many other skaters.

[akitokihojo]

Delicate - Chapter 5

Miroku gripped Sango's arm and shoulder, having to have physically braced her against him when she'd sprung to stop the fight. It looked as if it was ending when Inuyasha walked away, but the moment he turned around, his cheeks a blustering shade, she lurched forward to run interference. Typically, with anyone else, he wouldn't have prevented it, especially when things seemed as out of control as they were. In this case, Miroku knew it was already too late. Sango would only literally end up stuck in the middle.

The two of them watched as they screamed back and forth, Sango's hand flying to hold the tops of Miroku's fingers that gripped along her arm, much like a reflex to seek support while all they could do was stand by and watch. And, then it got quiet. Inuyasha and Kagome stood so close and Sango's stomach twisted with prickles of unnerving anxiety, seeing Inuyasha's mouth move but not able to hear the words he spoke. She saw Kagome's reaction, though. She witnessed the wound form and spread over her like paint irresponsibly dropped on a canvas.

"What - what did he say?" She asked, still staring helplessly.

"I don't know." Miroku breathed.

As Kagome turned and walked away, her pace quickly hastening, Miroku released his hold on Sango. She spared him a brief glance before running to catch up with her friend, and he didn't linger in place, following suit to get to Inuyasha. 

"Finally, something shut her -"

"You've said enough!" Miroku pushed him, sending the half demon stumbling to the side. Inuyasha's mouth hung open, brows furrowed but his expression one of shock. "What the hell's wrong with you!?"

He'd been prepared for Inuyasha to swing or retaliate, but the hanyou’s lips merely sealed and his body straightened. It was like he was damaged. He looked away, and his jaw clenched, the muscles in the sides of his face flexing harshly. His swallow was thick, visible, and his chest rose and fell heavily. He was still on the defense, but Miroku could tell the speed of his thoughts had to be slowing.

"How bad was that?" The question was barely spoken, his tone so dispirited, carrying the weight of his regret. He couldn’t help it. Everything she’d said had been so powerfully sworn, each word like a tick that burrowed deep into his skin. It was impossible to ignore. Even worse was the look on her face as he’d crushed her. So quickly, it had burned into his mind, framed in the forefront, heartbreaking, and the evidence of how despicable he could truly be. He couldn’t not see it. He couldn’t fight through it. It brought his natural guarding to shut down.

"Bad." Miroku stated.

"Did you hear everything?" Still, the words were hardly audible, hushed with shame.

"Everything up until the end."

"I called her a waste of time." He said clearly, leveling his gaze to meet Miroku's. "That outta do it, right?"

There was a falter in Inuyasha, an evident one. Anyone would have picked up on it; no one needed the skill to read people. He felt contrite. He didn't mean that. He probably didn't mean anything he'd said, but he knew the consequences of his mistakes.

"You can apologize." Miroku suggested, the tension in his shoulders dropping. "Take it back. Tell her you said all of it in the heat of the moment and -"

"No."

"- You never meant to hurt her."

"I can't." Inuyasha was resolute, a little panicked, muscles showing jittery agitation. "I fucked up. That's it."

"That doesn't have to be it! If you don't like the turn of events, do something about it!"

"How do I just take something like that back, Miroku!? I threw everything in her face! I made her feel worthless! I know too goddamn well that you can't just say sorry for something that low and expect everything to be fine!" He yelled, irate. He'd turned into the person he shouldn't have. Like all the people that belittled him for being what he was. Like his brother. He tore down a person who cared about him because he was more afraid that she wouldn't, and in preventing his own future pain, he only broke himself sooner.

"Well," Miroku began. "If that's the case, if someone were to apologize to you then how would you like them to do it?"

Inuyasha didn't reply, his head only shaking in disbelief. How could he have let himself do that? Who was he becoming? There were people in life that pre-evaluated their future, that swore they'd never become like the ones who did them harm. Inuyasha never had. He never worried about it. His solution was to dismiss it all, act like it never happened, isolate himself, fight back. This time, he realized, he fended off the wrong person.

He muttered a curse under his breath, feeling so heavy he could have sunken into the earth. Swaying on his heel, Inuyasha veered right, ducking down an alley to head home.

—

Kagome sluggishly rolled out of bed, her head pounding. It had been hard to stop crying, and once she did, it was even harder not to start up again. She was exhausted but couldn't sleep, and the tea her mom had brought up mid breakdown was now bitter and cold. The silence was annoying and only contributing to the pungent thoughts that kept her emotions active. She wanted to stop feeling angry, and sad, and hurt, and defensive, and anxious, or anything else her mood shifted to depending on what way she was going to overthink the scenario that time, and just mute everything for a while. Since sleep wasn't an option at the moment, she decided she'd use the TV as a distraction. 

After grabbing the remote and hitting the power button, she turned off the overhead light, showing an ounce of pity for her throbbing head. It was past midnight, so she kept the volume low, sitting on the foot of her mattress as she flipped it over to Netflix and resumed her show. Two solid taps on her window caught her attention, and Kagome looked over her shoulder, silver hair catching the glimmer of light from the illuminated screen. An unsettling chill sank down into her abdomen, like the feeling of fingers steadily teasing their grip over her organs, and her breath trembled, heat flushing her face.

Inuyasha crouched outside her windowpane, his expression relaxed but his gaze overtly cautious. He had a lot of guts showing up, time hardly a cushion to the blows she'd taken. But, on the other hand, he had to have come for a reason, right? 

No, that didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. Kagome needed to draw the line, she needed to respect herself. As difficult as it was, and it was very difficult for her, she walked over to the window, avoiding his stare while she yanked the curtains shut.

The hanyou sighed defeatedly. He deserved it, he knew, but that didn't make it any easier to handle. He smelled her tears before approaching her window, he knew she had to still be hurting. Of course, she was. There was no way a person would recover from what he'd said in the span of a few hours; he, of all people, understood. He didn't come here on a whim, though; he came here to talk. It took a lot of effort, too much even, to swallow his pride and mentally rehearse what he had to say on his walk over. Kagome deserved an explanation for everything. She deserved insight, answers, his own, personal vulnerability, and above all else, she deserved to know just how fucking sorry he was.

"Kagome," Inuyasha kept his tone softer than usual, though the gruffness was inevitable. "Open the window. Please. If you don't, I'll just go to your front door."

She froze, huffing at the unfair ultimatum. Begrudgingly but swiftly giving in, she pushed the curtains aside, sliding the window open but propping herself before him to block his entrance. "If you're here for round two, now's not really a good time."

Her voice was low but dangerous. Inuyasha kept steady, his expression hardly wavering, amber eyes unable to hold on her and drifting low as he gave a gentle nod to ask if he could come in. There was a moment of tension, the silence only filled with the mumbling from the show she'd put on, her sigh signifying her reluctancy even though she moved and allowed him entry.

Carefully, Inuyasha climbed through, resting his low back against the frame of the window. Kagome stood in front of her bed, fiddling with the sleeves of her shirt as she pulled them to cover her hands. It seemed like a nervous tick; just trying to keep her fingers busy while she stretched and dropped and bunched the cotton over and over. Her eyes were red and puffy, the makeup she'd worn earlier cleaned off, though a thin smudge decorated the lines of her lids. She was dressed down in pajama bottoms, the shirt she wore not long enough to hide her midriff, and her hair was still just as beautiful as before.

Reaching over, he quietly glided the window shut behind him, not wanted the chill of the night to bother her.

“What do you want?” 

He hated how sad she sounded, how lifeless her voice was.

“I didn’t mean it.” Inuyasha finally admitted, hesitation on his tongue. Still, he found it hard to make eye contact with Kagome.

“What part?” She asked, crossing her arms, fingers remaining covered. The inquiry was justified; he’d said a lot. The clarification was necessary at this point.

“Any of it. I didn’t mean anything I said.” He heard her exhale. It was rocky and short, troubled, exactly as he would expect. Then why the fuck would he say it in the first place, right? He pushed himself to meet her eyes pleadingly, calm. “Five minutes. Give me five uninterrupted minutes to explain.”

Kagome could feel his sincerity, the light from her show flickering on his skin as scenes played through. The emotions swirling in her head were conflicting; fifty percent wanting to hear what he had to say and the other fifty wondering if he even deserved the chance. It wasn’t difficult to know which way she’d lean, though. Even for herself. Everyone should have an opportunity to open up about how they felt and why they’d acted the way they did. Especially given how guilty he looked at this point in time. Reaching to the side, Kagome grabbed her remote off the top of her comforter, muting her show and trusting him to keep a level tone so her family wouldn’t be woken up. Tossing the controller back down, she gave Inuyasha her undivided attention.

The half demon nodded in appreciation, breathing out unsteadily as he ducked his head and crossed his arms over his front. He was naturally inclined to stay quiet, the apprehension and tension of the entire predicament overwhelming, but he couldn’t allow himself to shut down, to expect this all to blow over on its own just because he’d presented an apologetic version of his being. He gave himself a mental shove, as hard as it was, urging himself to open up for once in his goddamn life. It was warranted. He had to. Even if, in the end, he wasn’t offered redemption for his mistakes, which was a sour thought and pained him enough to swell his throat, Kagome would still have the knowledge of the exhausted beliefs that made him travel the route of countless burned bridges.

“You know about my parents.” He started, eyes on the carpet beneath his shoes. He ignored every pressing shockwave that conveyed for him to keep to himself, to lockdown all his personal information, opening a door that hadn’t been opened in years. It didn’t matter anymore. Not when he’d seen how he’d made her cry. “How they died. I don’t remember my dad all that much, but my mom’s passing took a huge toll on me. I was very close with her. She was human, and she still managed to protect me as if she had the strength of a demon. From other demons. From internal demons. When she was gone, I didn’t have that shelter anymore. Having someone that’s pushed on you to be considered family, someone who’s supposed to be there for you but then turns around and makes you feel like shit for something you can’t control takes a toll, too. It wasn’t just Sesshomaru, though - my brother. There were plenty of people I’ve met that shun me, talk shit, think I’m unnatural. After experiencing it enough, you learn to expect the worst of everyone. Not gonna lie, Sesshomaru’s voice is what I hear every time. So, instead of waiting for backs to turn, I just turn mine. It stopped bothering me after a while. I wasn’t even numb anymore, it just didn’t matter.” Inuyasha was concerned the thunderous beating of his heart would be detected by Kagome. It was difficult not to show how his breathing increased in pace, the topic one he’d never spoken about to any other living soul. In his mind, he kept repeating the importance of all of this. Over and over, he told himself to keep going, to tell her everything, actively refusing to let himself stop. “No one knows this, Kagome. I figured the more I keep locked up, the less vulnerable I am. Then, you walked in. You’re right. You scared me. I unintentionally gave you too much of my background when I initially intended to give you a bland explanation that night that I was upset. Safety isn’t something I’ve been fortunate enough to experience in a few years, and I think that’s what I began to feel with you. Like before, though, safety can be taken away very quickly, and I - I didn’t want to go through it again. You aren’t the first I’ve dropped like that. You’re the first to fight back, though. You were the first to ever show that it made you sad. I mean, yeah, people would get offended, but then they’d turn around and drop me and pretend it was their idea all along. I expected the same from you,” Finally, finally, he glanced her way. “and it hurt when I didn’t get it.”

Her dark eyes were large, the lighting showing the sadness in the glimmering tears building on her bottom lids. Her lips were pouting, parted slightly, her chin giving a quiver that made him feel unstable, as her brows pressed together in concern. Was she compassionate for his history, or was this the affliction he’d done? Maybe both? He didn’t deserve the former, but given what he’d learned about Kagome over the months, he wouldn’t doubt her empathy.

“I didn’t want to lose you, but it was too late by the time I acknowledged it. Everything about you was a warning to me of the damage you could potentially do. I was too susceptible, so I took myself out of the picture. I’m being honest when I say I didn’t know I was hurting you. It was confusing. I was used to apathy, and you don’t have an apathetic bone in your body. Even now, I don’t know what to do or where to go from here. If you’re done, I get it. I don’t fucking blame you. Tell me to go and I’ll go. But, before you do, let me just say that I don’t think you’re stupid, or self-righteous, or anything else I said. I don’t. I was throwing out whatever came to mind to try and push you away.”

Kagome was quiet, holding her breath as her chest constricted. Beneath the treatment he’d handed her, she completely understood his reasoning. It didn’t make it right, and in her gut she could tell he knew that. That wasn’t his purpose. It gave her perception, though, and that accounted for something. In the silence, she’d noticed his breathing ceased too, and his eyes had fallen back down to the floor. His chest was still, and he was just as nervous as he was when he’d first entered, if not more. It was her turn to speak. And she was so scared of saying the wrong thing. She was fearful of having it used against her like before. In her heart, Kagome wanted to give him another chance. She deeply wanted to trust him like she had, maybe even better now that he’d opened up a part of himself that had never been accessible to anyone before.

“Tell me the truth, Inuyasha. What do you want?” 

He looked over, apprehensively. Cautiously.

How was it he was so fearless in the face of aggressive and violent confrontation, but so terrified of this one girl? She had more strength in her compassion than fists would ever have against him. A tear fell from her eye, gliding over the curve of her cheek, acting as the sledgehammer that slammed down against his cinderblock walls, each teardrop serving as each strike. The half demon swallowed thickly, feeling a profound softness for Kagome strengthen with each uneven inhale of her comforting scent, laced with sadness that he wanted to dissipate. That’s what he wanted. He wanted to fix everything. He wanted to see her smile again, hear her laugh, make her laugh, help her study because he was the one that needed the excuse to see her. He wanted to make sure he kept the bridge between them sturdy and unbreakable. Because of her, for her, he wanted to be better. What he’d done to her, said to her, he’d never do it again. Inuyasha wanted Kagome.

On any level he could attain, Inuyasha wanted Kagome.

Words wouldn’t work for him in that moment. He couldn’t speak. His abdomen was tighter than ever, a lump solidifying in his throat, his jaw clenching as he experienced the debilitating anxiety involved in the realization that he had been falling in love all along. That’s why it crushed him when she cried, he was happy when she expressed joy, he trusted her with the parts of him he’d never talked about before. It hurt when she didn’t react the way he’d grown to expect, because it complicated everything so much more. Because he didn’t like losing her, and the thought that she didn’t want to lose him either made everything so much fucking harder to process. 

Inuyasha was still scared. He couldn’t shake it. His own muscles inadvertently tensed through the emotional stress he was under, the weight of his feelings intensifying. What could he do if he couldn’t speak? He had to tell Kagome he wanted to stay by her side in some other manner. He couldn’t lose the opportunity, or let the silence build and settle in the shadows of her mind; he couldn’t risk any negative thoughts intruding on her any further, or making her feel insecure for opening up the floor to him. He’d put her through enough. And he knew what he wanted.

Slowly, the hanyou reached over to her, his fingers gently grazing the soft sleeve of her shirt, pinching the loose fabric to give the tenderest of tugs his way. He was afraid she’d resist or shrug him off, but she didn’t. Kagome’s face crinkled slightly as she stepped his way, easily following his guidance as she opened herself up to him. There was no way he would permit himself to freeze or hesitate at this point, so he pulled her into his chest where she glided her arms over his front and around his shoulders. She clutched onto him, her face nuzzling into the crook of his neck where her hot breath almost brought him to falter, small hiccups from her silent cries rocking against his torso. Steadily, Inuyasha wrapped her into him, his hands large against the small of her back, one slipping beneath her shirt to lay flat against her hot skin and the other firmly gripping the cotton to keep her there. He felt her ease, and it didn’t take long, following the natural curve of his body as he effortlessly supported her weight. In that moment, to add to it all, he felt the growing and undying hunger to protect her from anything or anyone that could devastate her this way again. He didn’t care what he had to do, who he’d have to fight, or even if it was swallowing his own pride to make sure he never overstepped a boundary. Inuyasha would keep Kagome safe. One step at a time, he planned to make sure she understood he was reliable. 

“I’m sorry.” Inuyasha breathed, holding her tighter. She nodded against him, her body seeming to have calmed considerably. Her arms relaxed, and though he wasn’t ready to let her go, he released his hold, allowing her to back away. Kagome didn’t look at him, not directly, her dull stare landing on his stomach. He was almost desperate for her smile to return. He missed it horribly, feeling it would be the only thing to give him relief from his own turmoil. Like something else had control over him, his hand reached up, barely stroking her jaw with his thumb. “Are we - are we okay?”

“Mhm,” Kagome hummed, leaning into his whisper of a touch.

“You’re not okay.” He whispered, dropping his hand. Things didn’t just disappear with an apology, he got that. As much as he didn’t like it, the bitterness building on the back of his tongue, Inuyasha knew it’d take time to get over their fight and the ruthlessness of his insults. I’m sorry merely served as the bandaid. Actions in show of his regret was the ointment that sealed the wound. All too well, he knew how it went. He wouldn’t push her to pretend she was fine when she was still fighting off tears. No matter how relieved her sighs against his chest seemed, that was just the surface layer of a wound scabbing over. “I’ll go. If you need me, I’m available. I won’t disappear again.”

As he opened the window to climb out, a wild fluttering built in Kagome’s diaphragm, bringing her to bite her bottom lip hard as her nerves prickled and stung. “Can you - um,” She trembled, scared to see how he’d react to her upcoming question. There was no fending it off, though. She had to hear the opposite of what had sunken into her heart, the density of the statement holding her hostage. Inuyasha turned around, ember eyes watching her, observing her. With a mental push, her fingers hidden beneath her sleeves as she bunched and clenched the cloth within her fists, she forced the remainder of the question out, disregarding the fear evident behind her breath. “Can you tell me that I’m not a waste of time? Please?”

Inuyasha thought he’d known the repercussions of that volatile sentiment, but as he watched her crumble all over again, her frown deepening heartbreakingly and tears staining her cheeks once more, it was only then that he realized just how awful the blow was that he’d spoken so unthinkingly. He wished he had less walls to break down. He wished he wasn’t already at his limit, having pushed himself so far passed the boundary that had solidified overtime. He wished the work he knew he’d have to conduct on himself to be what she deserved could be done instantaneously, so that he could bring himself to touch her again, but he couldn’t. Inuyasha’s arms were stuck at his side, muscles tense and difficult to move. God, he wanted to be capable of fucking grabbing her and holding her without so much as having to think it through; like a normal fucking person. Words couldn’t describe the desperation behind the helplessness he felt that he physically couldn’t handle it right now, his fear, his anxiety, his thoughts rushing so fast that his blood coursed through his veins at the same damn cursing speed. Even when he tried, his hands only reached up so far, seeming more like they were braced before him heedfully; like he was worried about breeching her own boundaries. Which he was. He didn’t know what to do. When his actions failed him, how could he be believed? With a heavy sigh, the half demon stepped forward, as close as they’d been before when he’d first spoken those destructive words. He felt broken knowing what he’d done to her, and if the frown on his face was the proof of this feeling, the last thing he would do was hide it. If this was what he could give her at this point in time, he’d happily hand her his remorse on a silver platter. She was crying, her entire body shaking just inches before him, and he hated that he couldn’t physically take that pain away from her. If what she wanted was to hear the contradiction of his earlier statement, though, he could manage that much. He didn’t care if it was hard, he’d give her anything he fucking could right now. 

“You’re not a waste of time, Kagome.” Inuyasha spoke, genuinely, his voice husky. “I lied. I would have never come back if I actually thought that.”

She smiled. Despite it all, she smiled. If he could touch her, he would have cradled her face and wiped away the tears that fell until there were no more to clean, but it felt like there was a bulletproof glass separating them; like Inuyasha was locked away in prison, speaking to Kagome during a moment of visitation, desperately wishing he was free from his mistakes and the confinements that restrained him. Soon. This was his wakeup call. He wanted to be the one that was there for her, that reassured her everything would be okay, that held her, that made her feel so comfortable she could fall asleep on his chest. What more verification would you need of a person trusting you other than them sleeping in your arms? He’d never experienced that before, but he’d be a goddamn liar if he said he hadn’t once dreamt of someone sleeping by his side, or drifting off while watching tv. When he’d woken up from those types of dreams, he felt hollow. He was convinced it’d never happen. He knew now that in order for anything to happen, anything at all, he’d have to rebuild his mindset to be more open. It was no secret by now that he had been sealed shut, but now that the door was pried open, he could see the possibility of warmth entering through. There was always a chance of being hurt, and the scars ran deep, but there were risks that were worth taking. She was worth it. No matter how nauseous he felt right now. 

“Thank you.” She sighed.

“Go to bed.” He said, turning back around and soundlessly crawling out the window. “I’ll see you later.”

Kagome gave a tired nod, sauntering over to the window behind him. Her crying had just about stopped, the remnants of it all wiped away on her sleeves.

He gave a soft grin, his stomach half in shambles. “Goodnight, Kagome.”

She smiled, watching him venture over the small area of roofing before grabbing onto the overhanging branch of a tree. “Night.” She said as he spared her one last glance, sliding the window shut when he climbed down. 

—

As soon as he walked through the school gates, Inuyasha felt a sickening twinge ignite in his entire torso. He’d thought realizations of your own feelings were supposed to lessen the burdens, but all he’d felt since that night was horrible nervousness. Now more than ever. They hadn’t spoken since. She needed space, and he respected it. Even though they’d left on a relatively good note, he felt pressured as he walked through the campus, making his way to his locker. Was she going to be in school? How would she react if he said hello? How would he react if she said hello? Was it allowed? Were they on speaking terms? What about their study dates? Did they still exist or was he supposed to go through the humiliating process of reinstating them? Did she even want them anymore? If things were awkward, how did he proceed from there to properly reconcile? How could he make things normal again? Fuck, he would have stayed home if he knew he was going to end up this much of a basket case.

“What’s up?” Miroku said, approaching from the side and effectively startling the hanyou. His friend flinched at the notable tension that crawled up Inuyasha’s spine, his reaction out of the ordinary. “You good?”

“Yeah.” He grunted in an attempt at recovery. “I was just spacing out.”

“You? Spacing out? Man, that argument really did do a number on you.” Miroku mentioned, leaning against the neighboring locker. “I probably know the answer to this already, but have you talked to her?”

Inuyasha didn’t respond, shutting the small, metal door and shrugging his arm to adjust the strap of his book bag to sit properly over his shoulder. He felt the length of his ponytail wag to the side with his motions as he sluggishly began to lead their way down the hall.

“Thought so. So, what now?” His friend asked. 

In his peripherals, he could see the guy comb his fingers through his hair, shaking his head in a defeated motion. He couldn’t blame Miroku for expecting this from him, but he was a dick for doing so anyway. “What do you mean, what now?”

“I mean, what now? You burned her, you regretted it, and then you just left. I want to know what you plan to do, or if you’re just gonna blow it off like usual.”

“What if I say, nothing?”

“I might call you an asshole. Pretty sure Sango may have some colorful, choice words for you too, so watch out for that. I’ll secretly wish for better for my best friend in the entire world, I’ll be a little salty because you ruined the one chance at happiness you’ll ever have, I’ll watch a RomCom and cry over a box of chocolates in your stead, then we’ll all move on and get over it by next week.”

“Why are you so dramatic?” Inuyasha rolled his eyes.

“Oh man, the amount of questions I could counter that with is endless, my dude.”

There she was. Everything inside Inuyasha jolted to a stop, his legs halting as the breath left his lungs. There was no sense of relief whatsoever in discovering you were falling for someone. If his mild episode of panic at his locker wasn’t evidence enough of that, the sensation that his stomach had dropped into his pelvis, carried itself back up to its original spot, then plummeted again as she smiled to her friend definitely was. He now understood why Miroku was such a goddamn mess in front of Sango. All Inuyasha wanted to do was vomit at the mere thought of Kagome looking over at him; mostly because he had no idea where they stood with one another.

She clutched an old, small book to her chest, one that apparently had been read many times by the stress on the spine, cocking her head to the side as the opposite person thanked her for letting them borrow it. As they walked away, Kagome’s brown eyes flowed right over his way, her smile only wavering minutely before coming back to greet him. Her shoulders noticeably relaxed, her gaze shied downward, and her own ponytail flicked to the side as she turned and followed Sango into her class. She was okay. He didn’t sense any ounce of animosity roiling off of her. Finally, he breathed out his first, full exhale since before their fight.

“Question,” Miroku trepidatiously spoke, interrupting the pleasant thoughts going through his head. “Is Kagome secretly insanely evil? Because, given the circumstances, what the fuck was that smile for? Maybe it’s not Sango you actually need to worry about, because Kagome is going to sit you like a dog.” 

Inuyasha’s features twisted into a grimace, slowly swiveling to fully face Miroku. The deeply concerned expression on his friend’s face was enough to crumble his natural facade. “Joke’s on you, I talked to her already.”

“You what!? How long were you just gonna let me talk shit for?”

“Until you felt like an ass and I could rub it in your face.” The hanyou shrugged, continuing on until they met the doorway of their classroom. “I went over that same night. We talked it out.”

“Just like that? You talked it out?” Miroku pressed, following closely behind. He pursued Inuyasha straight to his seat, knowing he had several minutes until the bell rang, and therefore, plenty of time until he had to drop the subject and head to his desk across the room. If they had to bounce dialogue off of each other as quickly as the Gilmore Girls did just to get his answers, he’d keep the ball rolling smoothly. “Well, that doesn’t sound anything like you.”

“Thanks. Nice talking to you.” Inuyasha remarked, sarcastically.

“No, seriously. In all the time that I’ve known you, you’ve never done anything like this. How’d you - I mean, what’d you tell her?”

“Everything.”

“You gotta give me a little bit more than that, bro.”

“I told her everything. Things you don’t know, things I don’t plan on telling you, and other things you’ve probably figured out on your own but don’t know the history behind. I told her I didn’t mean what I said, I apologized, and she forgave me.”

“Nope. Too bland. Inuyasha, I’m getting a little stir crazy here.”

“I honestly don’t plan on telling you, so let it go.”

“Okay, no, I get it. Fair enough. You’re a private person. Honestly, I’m glad you’ve found someone you’re comfortable opening up to, especially in the face of losing them. Really.”

“Ulterior motive of that comment?” Inuyasha dryly asked.

“You were scared of losing her, right?”

“Miroku.”

“Why won’t you tell me? What’s so wrong with admitting the truth to me, of all people? I’m not asking for your depressing background story, I’m asking for current events here. Were you afraid to lose her?” Miroku asked, his tone a bit firmer than before, though still on the hushed side. Intentionally, he avoided using names. Their classmates were steadily filing in, and he wasn’t in the business of throwing someones personal affairs out into the open.

Inuyasha tensed. Openness. He wanted to be more open. For Kagome. If he practiced with Miroku, maybe it’d be simpler in the long run. The idea didn’t make the notion any easier, though. He felt like all he’d end up doing would be giving Miroku what he wanted, and though he wasn’t a gloater, the possibility was still there and made Inuyasha want to clam up all over again. In order to comply, he had to look away. It was too difficult to discuss private matters with direct eye contact to further enhance his discomfort. Inuyasha’s amber irises went left and right, his head swiveling along with them, giving a simple nod in the mix to say yes. If Miroku caught it, great. If he didn’t there was no way he’d repeat the motion.

“Alright.” Miroku grinned, the hint of positive affirmation on his tone. He’d caught it. “Do you like her?”

Again, Inuyasha indirectly nodded, shifting his head from side to side in a casual manner to hide his confirmation. 

“Do you want this to go somewhere?”

“Define, somewhere.” Inuyasha spoke, unsure of the broad aspect that question provided. It really wasn’t all that broad, but he was embarrassed enough not to know how to properly answer him without specification narrowing the field.

“Passed friendship. More than friends. A relationship of sorts. You know, hand-holding, kissing, cuddling, sweet nothings, nookie.”

“Nookie!?” Inuyasha hissed a little too loud, attracting the unwanted and skeptical attention of a nearby classmate. Miroku played it off, giving the guy an expecting smile that read for him to mind his business before turning back to the hanyou. “No one calls it that anymore, and no, that wasn’t on my mind.”

“Not now, anyway. Boners are natural.” Again, noticing the guy had overheard what he’d said and turned their way with a curious expression, Miroku looked at him, this time leveling the nosy prick with a straight face. When he twisted forward, Miroku turned back to Inuyasha. “But you know what, I like that. If woohoo isn’t the first thing on your mind, that must mean you’re really in deep here. Like, on what level are we talking?”

Inuyasha massaged his temples with his thumbs, blocking his line of sight with the rest of his hands propped on his forehead, begrudgingly bringing himself to answer. “A, uh, romantic level?”

“Yeah, kind of figured that one already. Do you want to take her on a date and see how things go, or do you want to take her on many dates and never let go? Very different; the latter being more expensive.”

“Well, where would you rate your feelings for Sango?” Inuyasha nervously asked, feeling heat begin to pool in his cheeks.

“On a terribly inconvenient, I-want-to-die-because-I-can-never-stop-thinking-about-her-and-I-don’t-think-I’ve-gotten-a-full-night’s-sleep-in-weeks level.” He answered with a distasteful grimace, his expression blanking as he watched Inuyasha slowly nod, the color in his face paling. “O-oh. You feel sick?”

Inuyasha nodded.

“Gonna puke?”

“Might.”

“That’s rough, buddy.” He sympathized, patting the half demon on the back as the bell chimed. “Welcome to my hell. Nice to know you’ve got a heart, though.”

And, it really was hell. Inuyasha, of all people, didn’t know the first thing about what to do with the overwhelming emotions that cluttered his mind, his throat, his chest, his stomach, fuck - every inch of him. He knew he had to take action if he wanted anything to come from this, or so it goes, but the thought of asking Kagome on a date was so nerve-wracking that he’d shut down and talk himself out of it every time the thought occurred. It was difficult enough picking up where they’d left off since he’d pulled his douche move. He practically had to break the ice all over again just to make typical hello’s and goodbye’s feel natural like before. That was his responsibility, and he understood that; the pressure shouldn’t be on Kagome for making conversations flow naturally again. Though, she was perfectly compliant and made it seem so easy. She was obviously better in the socializing department, and her smile worked to soothe his rigidness.

In all honesty, Inuyasha had never been so exhausted in his life. It was the end of the week, and he felt like he’d ran a marathon everyday since Monday. How do people willingly put themselves through this? Clearly, feelings weren’t something a person could control, but he knew of people that actually enjoyed the pursuit of romance, even going so far as to call the endeavor, “exciting.” It wasn’t exciting, and he was insulted that they thought so. It was stressful. So fucking stressful.

Miroku had given some unsolicited advice, and considering his recent luck in the dating department, the hanyou wasn’t very inclined to take any of it to heart. Beyond his measure, some of what his friend had said rooted into his mind. Inuyasha shouldn’t be aiming to go back to the way they were when he had an opportunity to build something better. He has feelings for Kagome. Kagome has feelings for him. Why would he try to go back to a stifled friendship where all he did was pine - resentfully so, since he was attempting to fight off any affection he had for her - and build from there when he now had leverage to progressively work for something better? It made sense. He hated that it made sense, but it made sense. Miroku also suggested the half demon be upfront with his feelings, but he was going to have to pass on that one. He felt, for his own sanity, he had to take things slow. Inuyasha liked the idea of the steady construction of something significant and solid.

If Kagome would ever have him, he wanted to be worthy of her.

But then the whole deserving aspect went out the window when he walked out of the school building to see that stupid ass wolf flirting with Kagome. Again. An undeniable urge to separate them in whatever manner he had to flooded through his veins. Who had the fucking time to wait on personal growth when the persistent fucker was constantly interrupting and getting in his way? Inuyasha gritted his teeth, annoyed as all hell at the relaxed way Koga leaned against a wall, his eyes promiscuously looking over Kagome whenever she wasn’t paying attention. 

“Do it, do it, do it, do it.” Miroku mildly chanted from next to him, egging the half demon forward. 

Inuyasha had barely picked up Sango’s approaching scent, his attention flickering to her just before she stopped at his opposite side. She didn’t pay him much regard at first, observing the scene ahead of them. Then, her stare bounced to him, a slight slant in her eyes. It was almost like she was testing to see if he’d flinch, her gaze boring into him, through him, her lips giving the smallest downward curve in disapproval.

“We have a math test on Tuesday.” She finally spoke, a smirk growing.

Inuyasha readily took the hint, trudging through the courtyard to make his move.

“Wow. I’m surprised.” Miroku cocked a brow. “You condone him going after Kagome?”

“Kagome can hold her own better than I can, believe it or not. Besides, I’m sick of that longing look he’s had going all week. I wanted to see if he’d do something about it if the opportunity presented itself.”

“Sango, my dear, I couldn’t appreciate you more.”

The half demon refused to lose his momentum. The closer he got to the two, the more empowered he felt to do something to work in his favor. Kagome glanced over at him curiously as he neared, and he intentionally kept his eyes glued to her, blowing the wolf off entirely.

“Hey, what’s up?” She coolly greeted. He loved the pink that faintly brushed over her cheeks just by him coming over, painting her shy and him a likable person. God, above all, he loved the advantage he had over stupid ass Koga.

“You busy tomorrow or Sunday?” He asked, rolling with his sudden bout of confidence.

“Um, no. Neither. Why?”

“Study date.” The word date was intentional, mostly to sit sourly in Koga’s stomach. “Heard you’ve got a test coming up.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” Kagome politely assured, feeling a little timid. “I-I don’t want to take up your day. And, I still have your notes from last time.”

Check and mate. 

“You absorb the information better when I’m there with you. Let me help.” Inuyasha grinned crookedly. “I want to.”

“Okay.” She breathed, her smile steadily growing. “When?”

“I’ll text you tonight. We’ll figure it out then.” He responded. As he went to turn away, he spared a look towards Koga, smiling arrogantly as the fucker glared with his light, blue eyes. Inuyasha gave a challenging cock of his brow, sauntering off in Miroku’s direction.

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader -”What Death Tastes Like” Part 4

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 1      Part 2      Part 3      Part 5

Your Birthday

“Look at him, parading like a rooster!” Emma elbows you, huffing.

The Joker is on the terrace, nosing inside the coolers to find his favorite grape juice brand since he knows it should be in there somewhere. He’s sporting very dark purple pants and a much lighter shade purple shirt, fitted on his body to perfection plus two gold chains around his neck which makes one wonder why he didn’t add more giving his sense of fashion.

You pile up some fruits on your plate, gazing The Clown’s way with a smirk:

“Those trousers make his butt stand out.”

“That’s probably the reason for wearing them,” Emma sighs and you both burst up laughing, amused at the truth she admitted aloud.

“I feel this lustful desire of spanking him,” you blur out. “I bet your dad only unbuttoned half of his shirt because he obviously wants me to unbutton the other half: that sexy rooster can frizzle my feathers anytime he wishes,” you tease and she covers your mouth in a hurry.

“Y/N, can you not?!”

“Sssttt, you’ll wake up the baby,” the muffled sentence distracts Emma and she lets go, apologizing to the five weeks old:

“Oh, sorry angel,” she lingers over the baby basket placed on the empty table next to the self-serve buffet: Frost’s son is napping under the umbrella while his parents mingle for a little bit with the guests that already arrived at your birthday party. How did Jonny end up here? The crazy motive: his employer is to blame for the mess he created one hour ago, already fixed due to your sense of urgency.

The Joker showed up in time at 3pm for his “date” like you instructed; you opened the door and he immediately handed you a car sit containing the tiny human.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!”

“Ummm…thank you,” the hesitant Y/N invited him inside.

“I got you a present,” he widely grinned, confident nobody else came up with a better gift idea.

“… Whose baby is this?!...” you followed him, carefully walking with the adorable bundle in the living room; the sleeping treasure fussed for a few seconds and went back to dreaming, unaware he was away from his parents.

“Frost’s,” J answered and you turned towards the entrance, baffled.

“I’ll go open the door for him then.”

“That’s not necessary; he didn’t come with me.”

“What do you mean?!”

“He’s off today. I just went to his house to drop up some ammo, then sneaked in the nursery and took the baby.”

“And his parents were ok with that?!” you crinkled your nose, more and more suspicious regarding his behavior.

“They don’t know,” The King of Gotham calmly informed.

“You kidnapped Frost’s son?!”

“I didn’t kidnap him,” J rolled his eyes, offended at your accusation. “I took him.”

“Without his parents’ consent. So you kidnapped him!” you gasped at the insane revelation.

“I’m in charge,” The Joker logic surfaced instantly. “I don’t require consent! Why are you staring at me like this?”

“I keep on hoping you’re bluffing,” you cringed at his argument. “Give me your phone!” you ordered and the item was shortly in your possession, although you had to witness a lot of grievance from his part as you searched for Frost’s digits.

Praise heavens you did since his wife was absolutely hysterical when you called: their offspring was missing from the cradle and Jonny might not be the type of person that panics, yet he had a total nervous breakdown.

They were fast to come and pick up Evan, so yeah… that’s how The Frosts ended up at your birthday bash… Full credit goes to their amazing boss!

*************

After one hour

“Do me a favor,” your father continues his conversation with J. “I want you to check with your contacts and try to find more Cromyxillium for me; I’m in desperate need.”

“Don’t you have enough for Y/N?” The Joker growls at the view of Bane’s son entertaining himself with you and Emma.

“For now. Tomorrow I’m starting her on full therapy; I found a new formula to bind the molecules together, this way her system won’t reject the medicine like it did last week. It will make her sick but I’ll be here to supervise the entire process.”

“Aren’t you afraid it will kill her?” J’s sensitive personality comes to full bloom in the best of moments.

Jonathan Crane is silent, then articulates painful facts he can’t avoid sharing:

“I am… I don’t have any other options on such a short amount of time…My daughter is fading… her lungs are finished…” and he gulps, straining to regain composure. “If this experimental drug can restore damaged tissue, it can aid with her cancer… She agreed to the test because I’m a super smart dad,” he grumbles. “That’s what she said…that I’m a super smart… I might be… I don’t even know if my remedy will work or if it will speed up her demise.”

“Fine, I’ll inquire on the product,” The Joker agrees. “What’s in for me?”

Your father takes a deep breath, exasperated.

“What do you want?”

“Excuse me,” The King of Gotham interrupts. “I think my pride’s at stake: somebody’s attempting to steal my date!” he inflates his chest and finds it imperative to notify the puzzled parent. “Y/N’s my date, didn’t she tell you? I was strictly forbidden to bring Mara so I had to maintain my reputation somehow.”

“What reputation??!!! She mentioned it and I thought the whole idea meant only you being obnoxious!” Jonathan huffs.

“I am obnoxious!” The Joker sourly admits and crushes the large group forming due to Sam’s entertaining abilities.

“Hey Y/N, where’s the grape juice?” he finds a random pretext to get your attention as you gesture towards the end of the terrace.

“There’s a bunch on ice,” you giggle at Sam’s story and J lies:

“I couldn’t find any.”

“Maybe someone moved it,” you detach from the gathering and stroll with him in the area you saw what he’s asking for.

“Who gave you that pendant?” The Clown Prince of Crime investigates since you definitely didn’t have the jewelry earlier.

“Sam,” you touch the delicate diamond heart attached to the platinum chain. “It’s so pretty, I love it.”

“He scored major points with the birthday girl, huh?” J mocks.

“Well, apparently some people are aware of my preferences and some give me presents I can’t keep,” you hint and The Joker comprehends what you aim at.

“My gift was brilliant! You said that if we would have gotten married we would have had a bunch of kids, thus it means you adore them. That’s why I brought Evan.”

“Yeah, and his parents already took him home, leading to the reasonable conclusion we can assess from the fiasco: you actually don’t have a present for me. Oh, would you look at this: grape juice!” you sarcastically show him the huge pile of containers exactly where it’s supposed to be.

“How did I miss this?” J pretends to be shocked and sneers when he notices Bane’s son coming near you two. “Dance with me!” he unexpectedly sweeps you in his arms. “It’s a slow song, just move your feet,” he encourages. “What do you want for your birthday then?” Emma’s dad distracts the astonished Y/N furthermore.

“Hmmm… I can settle for a kiss?” you unconsciously caress the short hair on the back of his head while he quickly pecks your cheek. “Um… if I wanted a jellyfish sting I could have went to the aquarium,” you sassily react and The Joker rolls his eyes. “I want a proper kiss, unless you have those reserved for Mara.”

“Why are we talking about my girlfriend?”

“On and off girlfriend,” you emphasize. “A huge indicator you don’t care that much about her. You need a woman that genuinely loves you; she’s a catalyst fueling your tendencies, you don’t need that! You don’t fight fire with fire, OK?” you almost shout and ironically enough he decides to engage in your speech.

“What do you fight it with then?”

“Dynamite!” you proudly state. “Blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh!”

“A-ah…A-ha…”, he mischievously agrees. “I assume you’re the dynamite in this scenario?” the silver grimace spreads across his face.

“Perhaps.”

“Why is Bane’s son here?” The Joker changes the subject. “He keeps lurking around and it annoys me.”

“Don’t be jealous,” you mislead him on purpose. “Sam was my boyfriend in high school,” you brief your so called partner. “I’m fond of him.”

“Why would I be jealous?!” The King’s mood switches and you realize yours is also: the sole detail he’s interested in is to emphasize zero attraction for his daughter’s friend.

“Yeah…why would you be jealous?...” you sadly smile and let go before the song ends. “Listen, I have to return to my guests, alright? You don’t have to stay; you should go back to your fire because you certainly don’t know what to do with dynamite,” the meaningful reply leaves him intrigued again: no cocky response to your clever twist in words since he already lost the passive-aggressive altercation.

************

9:49pm  

You gaze at the starry sky, cozy on the inflatable mattress; the mesh on top of the tent is so thin you can hardly tell it’s there. Very quiet in the garden… you should have went to the river with the others, yet you felt the urge to be alone and rest before you reprise your treatment tomorrow.

“Y/N, are you in here?” The Joker’s voice is heard.

“No!” you grouchily snarl.

He unzips the tent and squeezes inside, obeying to your protest:

“Close it! I don’t want bugs in here!”

“I’m hiding from Crane, he made me do a bunch of stuff in preparation for your Cromyxillium therapy!” J complains to indifferent ears.

“I thought you bailed hours ago,” you coldly articulate.

“I was held prisoner in the underground lab! You should be thankful for my services.”

“You don’t do anything for free and I’m sure you’re over exaggerating anyway!”

“Whatever!” The Joker drops on the mattress next to you, deeply exhaling. “I’m beat; I’ll rest for a bit before I drive.”

You rest your fingers on your tummy, struggling to remain calm.

“I missed hanging out with my cuddling buddy,” J nozzles in your shoulder and you give him an insolent glare.

“We’re not cuddling buddies!”

“That’s too bad; I precisely came to deliver your birthday present. I resent the notion of a man unjustly accused of being cheap.”

“What birthday present?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“The kiss you demanded Y/N!”

“I’m good,” you disregard his offer and he hovers over you, captivated.

“I thought you have the hots for me, I even wore these hoochie pants to please you. I mean, I endured your affection and harassment for the past three years. I’m here now with an invisible olive branch so I think you should reconsider your answer.”

“Did you just say hoochie pants?!” you snicker at his distorted apology although you’re mad at him. “You didn’t wear them for me; you wanted to show off your assets!”

“It’s not my fault I’m handsome!” The Joker defends his wardrobe choice.

“I seriously want to be alone,” you indirectly imply he should disappear. “I’m tired of playing games. I won’t flirt with you anymore, I promise. Deal?” you lift your pinky up and there’s something strange concealed behind your abrupt vow.

“Why not?”

“First of all, I won’t have the energy: my father warned of serious consequences during the treatment. Second, it might kill me: we don’t know how my physique will endure; I have terminal cancer, remember?”

“Are you scared?” J whispers and you nod a yes, upset. “Then you should accept your gift in case you won’t have another occasion,” his rationale pushes you to reconsider your alternatives.

You pull him closer and wait, explaining your hesitation.

“It’s my birthday, you should be the one kissing me.”

The Joker doesn’t defy your logic and complies, unable to suppress an arrogant grin when you moan:

“God, your lips are so soft; I could kiss them all day.”

“Don’t get into it, I have to vacate the premises soon. I don’t want Crane to catch me in your tent and presume the worst.”

“My dad will be in the lab until morning time; you can stay if you want to,” you trace his jaw line, momentarily forgetting your grudge.

“Didn’t you preach about wishing to be alone?”

“Why are you making out with another woman besides your girlfriend?” you evaluate the waters with a question.

It doesn’t seem he’ll bother to justify his behavior thus you utter:

“I can be alone…with you. I’m 23, literally a consenting adult,” the important information is added for the heck of it.

“Consenting to what?” The Joker mumbles as you softly bite his lower lip.

“I hate you,” you pout and snuggle to him while he grabs a pillow, irritated at his involuntary reaction. J stuffs it in between the bodies and you swiftly toss it away.

“Are you trying to get me in trouble Y/N?”  

“You’re always in trouble,” you begin unbuttoning his shirt. “Let’s go with the flow, shall we? No strings attached, no commitments. You know why?” you pause and continue. “I might not survive the Cromyxillium and I want to make love to the old guy I have a major crush on.”

“Old?!” The Clown prince of Crime scoffs.

“You’re basically twice my age,” you roughly estimate without proof and kiss him again. The Joker slides his hands under your t-shirt, opting to dismiss your affirmation with a different kind of truth.

“Do you recall when you asked me if I ever tasted death?”

“Yes…”, you bury your face in his neck, wondering if he’ll say something mean that will ruin the night.  

“You don’t taste like death,” J forces you to look at him. “You really don’t.”

“… … … … … … …  You think so?” the emotional Y/N sniffles, categorically surprised at the confession.

“Yeah. You actually taste like dynamite,” he winks and doesn’t mind the sudden meltdown: The Joker is not big at comforting people, but the girl in his arms feels relieved nevertheless.

She might not compare to the fire he’s used to, yet Y/N’s eagerness to blow up everything, wipe the slot clean and start fresh is unfamiliar territory that’s worth exploring.    

  Also read: MASTERLIST

[kpopchangedmylife44]

Ateez: wedding thread

Part 1: hyung line

Part 2: maknae line

Hongjoong

Proposal:

he prepared for months and wrote a song about your lovestory especially for the proposal

you both get really emotional when he sings the song to you (but how could you not)

Guests:

50-100; would love to invite all of your friends and family, but doesn’t  want to invite everyone he knows, so it doesn’t get out of hand

Outfit:

would design it himself and maybe hire a designer to bring his vision to life (if he can’t do it by himself)

would wear quite a lot of accessories

would make sure that your clothes look good together

Wedding ring:

you would design individual rings that are really unique and express your personality and connection  

Photography:

would love to have his friends and family capture the wedding (Jongho, I see you)

but also has a team of photographers, who will make an aesthetic video and film everything

Venue: somewhere in the city, maybe the top floor of a skyscraper

does a lot of the decoration himself, as he has an eye for details and you love his sense of style

Flowers: blue lilies

Colors of the decoration: dark blues and touches of silver und gold

Music: would compose several songs just for your wedding and gets teary performing them; you both hire your favorite band and dance the night away

On the wedding day

gets really excited but also a little nervous

probably jumps around a lot

asks everyone if they already saw you

his friends calm him down (or try to)

he’s already smiling before you enter the room

but once he sees you, he just wonders how he got so lucky and he can’t wait for you to finally be married

holds you really tight after your first kiss as a married couple

Seonghwa

Proposal:

after being together for 5 years, he couldn’t imagine a life without you, so one day he saw a beautiful wedding ring while window shopping and it became clear to him that he wants to marry you

would prepare for the proposal and wants to be very romantic

you two are in a boat driving around town when he asks you to marry him

he gets a little nervous but nearly cries when you say yes

Guests:

40, your closest friends and family, would prefer a more intimate wedding

Outfit: a really classic look- black or white suit, no accessoires

Wedding ring: a silver ring with diamonds and rubies  

Photography:

you would probably have a long photoshoot in your venue with a lot of changes of the scenery

for the ceremony there are also various photographers, as he wants to capture every moment from every possible angle

Venue:

an old castle, which is beautifully decorated in white and a light pink color and a lot of flowers

Flowers: white roses

Colors of the decoration: white and silver with a touch of pink

Music: a pianist for the ceremony and a band for the party (would also invite all of the members of Ateez, who would perform a song as a surprise)

On the wedding day

freaks out, because he wants everything to be perfect and how you both imagined it

checks every detail 10 000 times

takes his lint roller everywhere, so everything looks spotless

but the second he sees you walking down the aisle, he forgets about everything else

it wouldn’t matter, if the apocalypse happened around you right now, as he couldn’t take his eyes of you and forgets about the surroundings

he just looks at you the whole day and nobody else matters

feels immediately calm when you take his hand

Yunho

Proposal:

you’re together on vacation and he really enjoys your time together

when you both relax on the beach, he feels like he is really living in paradise with you and he wants it to last forever

so one morning before breakfast, he goes to the city and buys an engagement ring

the proposal itself is spontaneous and Yunho is kind of a mess, because he can’t stop smiling and does not remember what he wanted to tell you

but by the look of his eyes you can see how much he loves you

cries when you say yes (and after that you start crying too, but after a while you both laugh together)

Guests:

100-150, this boy knows a lot of people and although it may be a bit much, he just wants to show his love to everyone and wants them to celebrate your special day with him

Outfit: dark blue suit with a flower

Wedding ring: rose gold with a diamond and a signature inside which reads ,,Yours forever”

Photography:

you both wouldn’t like a staged photoshoot, so you ask your friends and family to take spontaneous pictures of you

prefers funny and real pictures

there probably would be a photo booth at the wedding

also hands out instant cameras to several guest

although the pictures are not perfect, they capture your relationship beautifully and feel special to you as the people you love took them

Venue:

a large location with a garden and lots of flowers

Flowers: literally all colors of the rainbow, flowers are everywhere

Colors of decoration: pale blue with touches of all colors, the decoration itself is quite colorful, but it goes together

Music: classical music for the ceremony

for the party you hire a DJ, cause this boy gotta show his moves and no one can hold him

would do a choreography for your wedding dance and you practice a lot

although you both are way to giggly to dance it perfectly, you just enjoy it while spinning around with the love of your life

On the wedding day

he is nervous and really excited

smiles so much, it basically hurts his face

calls you every few minutes, to ask how you’re feeling

his best friend Mingi (who also is his best man) tries to calm him down, but you can imagine how that goes

when he sees you in your wedding outfit, he almost faints and gets teary

thinks to himself ,,How did I get so lucky?”

also asks himself what it took him so long to marry you, it was crystal-clear from the beginning that it was meant to be

can’t wait to finally be your husband

compliments you before the ceremony starts

cries while you hold your speech and does his best to finish his

and the wedding kiss feels like the beginning of a lifetime of happiness

Yeosang

Proposal

you know each other for almost 5 years and also live together

when you have a really bad day, Yeosang gets upset and he wants to make sure, that he’s always there to make you feel better

you both talked about marriage before, but you were really chill about it and took your time

but Yeosang feels like your relationship is on another level, because you are basically the light of his life and he wants to call you his wife/husband

so a week after your breakdown he comes up with the idea for the proposal

you go on a weekend getaway to the sea, where you watch the stars on a terrace

and he prepared a really sweet speech, but he gets so nervous (his palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy, i’m sorry)

when he finally proposes you both embrace in a tight hug and hold onto each other for a long time

Guests: 50, a rather small wedding with your friends and family

Outfit: more of a classic look with a dark suit, but touches of color

Wedding ring: silver with a sapphire or rose quartz

Photography

you would hire a photographer for a shoot, but the shoot itself wouldn’t take up a lot of time, because you would rather enjoy the wedding itself

Jongho would film the ceremony and your friends and family all take photos, so you get a ton of pictures together

there would be a rose wall to take pictures infront of

there are pictures of you everywhere, because you wanted to express your lovestory in the wedding venue

Venue

an old building with a garden and lots of fairy lights

Flowers: lilac flowers

Colors of the decoration:  pale colors with touches of pink and blue

Music: a singer for   the ceremony and a band for the party, which would cover your favorite songs

Yeosang would also like to sing a song for you (so he can finally get his lines) or a duet

On the wedding day

Yeosang would be giggly, nervous and excited

on one hand he can’t wait to finally marry you, but he is more nervous than he ever was on stage

gets really flustered when he sees you (and probally laughs in his hand, because he can’t contain his excitement)

almost gets choked up while saying his vows

when it’s finally time to say yes, he is about to cry and brings out the tiniest yes you ever heard in his adorable voice and it’s so cute

after the ceremony he is almost back to normal, clings to you the whole day and just enjoys himself

when you see him dancing with a flower girl, you can imagine him being such a sweet dad (but that’s for another day, cause I’m already devastated)

[writerthreads]

Common types of poisons (pt.2)

>> writerthreads on instagram

Check out PART ONE (linked) for more poisons!

SAFETY NOTE: AS SAID BEFORE, DO NOT POISON ANYBODY OTHER THAN YOUR CHARACTERS. ALSO AS SAID BEFORE, I RUINED MY SEARCH HISTORY FOR Y’ALL... AGAIN.

1. CYANIDE

Form: In liquid form, hydrogen cyanide (HCN) is also known as prussic acid. Pure hydrogen cyanide is a gas usually made by mixing an acid with cyanide salts. It is more commonly found in the form of sodium, potassium, or calcium salts, which are crystalline materials. Industrial cyanide can take the form of large nuggets called “cyanide eggs.” 

Color: Sodium and potassium salts of HCN are white. 

Odor: It is supposed to elicit the odor of almonds. However, 40–60% of the population cannot detect the odor because of a genetic inability—a form of “odor blindness.” 

Solubility: Salts of cyanide are easily dissolved in aqueous liquids. Acidic liquids would cause the release of some HCN gas. 

Taste: Salts of cyanide have a bitter taste and can have a mild corrosive action on tissues. 

Source: Fumigants ( a chemical that produces fumes used to disinfect or purify an area ), insecticides, rodenticides, metal polishes (especially silver polish), electroplating (metal coating) solutions, metallurgy (purifaction) for the extraction of gold and silver from ore, photographic processing, jewelers, and chemical laboratories. Cyanide is contained as cyanogenic glycosides inside the pits and seeds of certain plants of the genus Prunus (e.g., cherry, peach, almond, cassava, and apricot). 

Cyanide can also be produced by the action of a flame on the synthetic plastic materials polyurethane and polyacrylonitrile. In addition, it is found as part of the intravenous antihypertensive drug molecule sodium nitroprusside (Nipride®). Cyanide is used in the most commonly employed method of synthesizing phencyclidine (PCP). 

Lethal Dose: Acute, 270 ppm (air), 50 mg (HCN), 200–300 mg (NaCN or KCN); chronic, unknown in all forms. 

How It Kills: Cyanide shuts down respiration at the cellular level by inactivating essential enzymes, resulting in metabolic asphyxiation (deprivation of oxygen). Critical effects are on those organs most sensitive to oxygen deprivation, the brain and heart.

Poison Notes: When providing mouth-to-mouth respiration support to a victim, care must be taken to avoid contaminating oneself. A toxidrome (pattern of symptoms) has been established for cyanide intoxication and includes altered mental status, mydriasis (dilated pupils), abnormal respiratory pattern, low systolic blood pressure (how much pressure your blood is exerting against your artery walls when the heart beats), increased heart rate, metabolic acidosis ( an excessively acid condition of the body fluids or tissues), and a large increase in blood lactate (product produced in the breakdown of glucose). 

Often administered to victim in food or drink. 

Symptoms

Symptom Onset Time Interval: Immediate (as little as 30 s). Few poisons are as rapidly lethal. 

Symptoms—Acute: Headache, nausea, vomiting, difficulty breathing, and confusion. These initial symptoms are rapidly followed by seizures, coma, gasping respirations, and cardiovascular collapse. 

Symptoms—Chronic: Not applicable. 

Disease Confusion: Heart attack, acute asthmatic attack. 

Victim Notes: An abrupt onset of profound symptoms after exposure is classic for cyanide exposure.

2. SODIUM FLUOROACETATE

Form: Looks like flour or baking soda. 

Sodium fluoroacetate (also known as sodium monofluoroacetate, Furatol, Ratbane 1080, or Compound 1080). 

Another compound is Sodium fluoroacetamide (also known as Fluorakil, Fussol, Megarox, ancock, or Compound 1081). It is also the toxic constituent of the South African plant Giftblaar (Dichapetalum cymosum). 

Color: White, crystalline compound. 

Odor: Odorless. 

Solubility: 1080 is very water soluble but has a low solubility in ethanol. 

Taste: 1080 is mostly tasteless, but very dilute solutions may have a vinegar-like taste, owing to the acetate component. 

Source: Pesticides, rodent poison, and predator (coyote) poison. NOTE: It is sold only to licensed pest-control operators and others qualified by training and experience in rodent-control procedures. It is usually mixed with black dye and added to grain baits. 

Lethal Dose: acute, 2–10 mg/kg, 700 mg/150-lb victim; chronic, not applicable.

How It Kills: The salt’s metabolite, fluorocitrate, blocks normal enzyme mechanisms in the body, acting mainly on the heart and central nervous system. 

Poison Notes: As little as 1 mg of 1080 is sufficient to cause serious poisoning. This is one of the most toxic substances known, and there is no specific antidote.

Administered: 1080 can be administered to the victim in food or drink. It can also be absorbed through broken skin. 

Symptoms

Symptom Onset Time Interval: Symptoms are delayed while the body converts the compound into the more toxic metabolite. 

Compound 1080: from 30 min to several hours Compound 1081: slower onset of symptoms. 

Symptoms—Acute: Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, agitation, confusion, seizures, lethargy, coma, respiratory arrest, and cardiac arrhythmias. 

Disease Confusion: Gastroenteritis (inflammation of the stomach and intestines), viral infection, heart attack. 

3. STRYCHNINE

Form: Strychnine is an alkaloidal plant compound obtained from the tree Strychnos nux-vomica. The seeds are gray-green discs (1-in. in diameter, 0.25-in. thick at the rim) with a central depression and a satin-like appearance. Pure strychnine alkaloid is a white powder. 

Color: White, crystalline powder. 

Odor: None that is characteristic. 

Solubility: Soluble in aqueous solutions. 

Taste: Strychnine is extremely bitter, with a taste that is detectable at a dilution of 1:100,000. Strychnine could be administered in alcohol if the victim is accustomed to bitter drinks (e.g., tonic water). Strychnine can also be introduced into foods that normally have a sour or bitter taste.

Source: Rodenticides (concentrations >0.5% are currently distributed only to licensed exterminators). Strychnine is sometimes found as an adulterant in illicit drugs. At one time, strychnine was sold over the counter as an ingredient in a variety of stimulant tonics and laxatives. 

Lethal Dose: Acute, 5–8 mg/kg, 30–300 mg (oral); chronic, unknown. 

How It Kills: Respiratory arrest. 

Victim of Strychnine Administered: Can be given in food, beverages, or medications. 

Symptoms

Symptom Onset Time Interval: 15–30 min (oral route), 5 min (iv or nasal route). 

Symptoms—Acute: Muscle stiffness and painful cramps, which precede generalized muscle contractions. The victim’s body may take the form of an arch (with only the head and heels touching the floor)—this is called an “opisthotonic” convulsion. The face may be drawn into a forced smile or sardonic grin called “risus sardonicus.” The muscle contractions (spasms) are intermittent and can be easily triggered by emotional or physical stimuli (sound, touch, light). Death is usually owing to respiratory arrest.

Disease Confusion: Grand mal seizures, tetanus.

Source: Forensic Science and Medicine: Criminal Poisoning, Second Edition By: J. H. Trestrail, III © Humana Press Inc., Totowa, NJ

[beccarooni]

Alien

@woahthisguy

(A.N: A thorbruce fluff fic? With minimal angst? Who am I anymore. This is based around age of Ultron and the jacket Thor has there, just a small idea I had and wanted to turn into a fic! Fear not, angst lovers, because I promise my next fic will be back to our regularly scheduled whump)

It started with a news station.

Tony had warned him, of course. They all had, in their own ways. They'd all told him about the differences between Asgard and Midgard, taken him through how things worked so he could at least function the rare times he made public appearances outside of battle. Told him what sort of thing he could say to reporters, and the things to steer clear from. And he was generally pretty good at that, or at least he thought he was. He could smile for cameras (it wasn't that different from posing for royal portraits, really. In fact it was a lot less tedious and a lot less time), he could give brief explanations on battle strategies, and he required no tutoring in the art of waxing lyrical about his fellow avengers. People even found his odd manner of speaking endearing, apparently. It certainly made them smile at least, and if that was the case then he'd be happy to continue doing it. If he was being honest, that particular issue helped him, too- it was so much easier to appear confident and strong when his vocabulary was long and eloquent. People just assumed he was smart and otherworldly, all because he threw in a few 'thou's' and 'art's'.

He still felt odd, sometimes. Strange, out of place in a way that had never been the case on Asgard. Standing alongside his fellow avengers, the differences between them were glaringly obvious to him. But, people smiled. People liked him.

At least, that's what he'd thought.

He certainly got a different impression when he was staring at the screen, angry men in suits debating about aliens and their right to even be on this planet. Offering slur after slur about who he was, where he was from, questioning if he was even trustworthy as a defender of earth.

"Because, what's the difference between him and the aliens that came in the wormhole?" One had said, gesturing to a photo of the Chitauri from the battle of New York.

"What's stopping him from doing what they did? From turning that hammer on us?"

Thor had tuned out after that, JARVIS taking the liberty of switching the TV off after 5 minutes of silent staring and lightning crackling from fists.

It felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, the wind forced out of his lungs.

Dangerous- is that how they viewed him? As a threat? As something to be contained, warned against, monitored?

Thor stood on shaky legs, making his way out to the balcony to try and make sense of what he'd seen, the reporters words burning in his ears.

Alien.

That's what they'd called him. And, to their credit, they were right. He wasn't from earth, and people knew that. He'd thought that was fine, some people even labelled it as 'cool', whatever that meant. But he'd never heard the word with such venom before. Because suddenly, alien didn't just mean from another planet or place.

It meant bad. It meant threatening.

And with his eyes ablaze with white lightning, mjolnir crashing through walls and tanks, Thor didn't even know if he could fault them.

He didn't sleep that night. Hours were spent, tossing and turning under blankets, trying to match his breathing to the gentle rolls of thunder outside, but nothing worked. His eyes kept drifting to his armour, stood against a mannequin in the corner of the room.

When he'd commissioned it from the blacksmith in Asgard, he'd regarded it was a work of beauty. The intricate metalwork, fibers twisted together and laid with silver and gold, the gentle fall of the crimson fabric of his cape - it was something to be admired, back home.

Here, it seemed, it was just another sign that he didn't belong.

Thor sat up, staring at the metal with a newly critical eye, a sudden clench of worry gripping his lungs. He'd worn that armour to every press conference the avengers had had. Every formal event, every charity gala, even the few birthday parties he'd been around for. At the time it had felt right. But now all he could see was his friends, dressed in sharp suits and dresses. And next to them, a fool bedecked in metal.

Like he wasn't even trying to be normal.

So when Tony Stark approached him the evening after their search for the sceptre and invited him to an evening of revelry, he'd almost said no. The prospect of facing cameras again brought an unusual feeling to the pit of his stomach. Dread. Nervousness. A feeling of tightness that crushed his lungs and stole his breath, the voice of the reporter echoing in his mind.

'You aren't like them. You never will be.'

"You know, formal, dress up in fancy clothes, have a few drinks." Stark's voice cut through his worries, the easy tones of his friend momentarily silencing the bad. Tony shrugged, tucking his sunglasses into his pocket with his trademark grin dancing across his features. "Just some harmless fun."

"I know what a party is." Thor arched an eyebrow, eyes briefly scanning the details on the small piece of card that had been folded into a paper plane and tossed at his head from the far corner of the common room.

"We have them all the time on Asgard. There's wine, dancing, feasts. It's common practise after a battle."

"Well, now I'm expecting you to bring your best moves to this shindig. Show us all how Asgard does it." He spoke with laughter in his voice, sidling up to Thor's left and digging an elbow into his ribs. Or at least, attempting to. Thor didn't really feel much through the thick plating of his armour, and judging by Starks wince the action had backfired considerably. "You could show Banner some of those moves as well, y'know."

Thor remembered the water he was trying to drink finding its way back up his throat at that, and a painful 5 second gap in the conversation where he'd spent equal parts coughing and scrambling for excuses.

"Subtle." Tony patted him on the back, the smirk evident in his voice.

"Forgive me. But whatever you imply, I assure you that you are mistaken on a grandiose scale." Thor finally straightened his back, trying to banish the red from his face. "Banner is my compatriot, a, uhm, a fellow team mate, as it were, who I am engaged in a friendship with."

"Are you sure?" Now it was Starks turn to raise the eyebrow, looking at him incredulously. "Because you're doing the Shakespeare talk, and you only do that when you're nervous."

Thor had promptly shooed Tony out of his room, but his words remained in his head as he turned in front of a mirror, looking at his armour clad body with a critical gaze.

He'd been to parties. He'd thrown parties, some of the best in all the nine realms.

He could easily blend in with the likes of Stark- and why would he be nervous? Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder, Prince of Asgard, and probably some other titles that he'd forgotten did not get nervous about other people's opinions of him.

The fabric of his cape brushed around his knuckles, and Thor nibbled at his bottom lip, staring at his reflection.

His shoulders slumped somewhat in a sigh, and he turned, taking a seat onto the sofa, thankful for the small mercy that he was the only one in the room. JARVIS wouldn't say anything if he lowered his head into his hands and frantically fought for his breath back. He'd suggest, but the request was always denied. Thor didn't need help, he didn't want it. He didn't want his friends seeing him like this, and besides, he could calm down on his own.

'What if that's what they think, too?' The voice stung at the back of his mind.

'You can't even dress human, let alone act it. You're a party favour to them, an oddity, and you alwa-'

"Thor?"

A different voice cut through his thoughts, one from just inside the doorway, tinged with worry.

"Bruce!" Thor was quick to plaster on a smile, wiping roughly at the sides of his eyes at the tears that definitely hadn't been shed, standing to his feet to greet the man in the doorway. "Apologies, my friend. I did not hear you come in. Is there something I can assist you with?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes, venturing further into the room, footsteps filled with a sense of urgency that Thor hadn't seen all that often. He definitely hadn't seen this before, because within a matter of moments, Bruce was standing in front of him, his hands brushing Thor's arms, pushing him back slightly and holding him at a distance, looking at him through furrowed brows as if he was trying to decipher a complex equation.

"You're freaking out. Why are you freaking out?"

"Freaking out? I am not freaking out. I'm perfectly calm, actually." Thor tilted his head, trying not to focus too much on the grounding feeling Banner was giving him. He was calm, because he was a God. Definitely not because Banner was rubbing small circles into his arms, the feeling of warmth from the other man's fingertips forcing away the icy cold panic of before.

"Shakespeare talk. You only ever do that if you're freaking out about something."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Thor rolled his eyes slightly, lifting his hands to rest against his hips. "Maybe it's just the way I speak sometimes?"

Bruce glanced at the sofa, his skeptical gaze softening into sympathy, brown eyes warming behind rectangular glasses.

"You know you can talk to me, right? About anything? Because it kind of seemed like you were in the middle of a breakdown when I walked in here, and I don't want you to feel that you can-"

"It's the party." Thor blurted out, feeling a pang of guilt about cutting Bruce off mid sentence, but it was his own fault, really.

Damn that Bruce Banner and his wonderful brown eyes, making him bare his soul like that.

"The...the party? Tony's thing?" Bruce raised an eyebrow, his hands wandering back into the pockets of his lab coat. "I thought you liked that sort of thing?"

"It's not the party itself that I'm worried about." Thor had to force himself to turn away, then, because he knew that if he met Banner's eyes one more time then he'd be compelled to spill everything. To bare his soul to the scientist in a way that was definitely more than compatriots.

He didn't want Banner to think he was weird, too. Maybe that led him to tiptoe around the scientist, somewhat. A fault on his part, he was sure. But Banner- Bruce, was one of the few people who spoke to him like he was a person. When he asked about pop culture, or some slang confused him, he could always rely on Bruce to take him through it without any hidden laughter or mockery. His smiles, his beautiful, beautiful smiles, were sincere. But this issue was beyond that. Because if he brought up everything, asked the questions about the man on the news, he might not like the answer.

"It's...my clothes. I don't have anything suitable for the affair, I fear. All I have is my armour."

"Well, I'm sure that's fine." Bruce frowned slightly, poking Thor's chainmail wrapped shoulder for emphasis. "You suit it. It's...it's you."

"No, no, it's not fine. It'll look stupid, I'll look stupid. I just-" Thor made the mistake of looking into Bruce's eyes, and he fought to just keep even the slightest wobble from his voice. "I just want to look normal."

"Oh." Bruce glanced down, his frown turning from confusion to sympathy in the span of a few seconds. He let the room go silent, for a moment at least, before continuing. "Is that what was bothering you, before? When I first came in?"

"A little. It's nothing, really. I'm just being silly."

"Is there anything I can do to help? Because, honestly, I know how this kind of thing feels, and when I went through that I had to do it pretty much by myself." For a moment, Bruce's eyes wandered. His gaze went to the wall, and for a minute, it was like he wasn't even there.

Thor could almost see the memories flittering across the frames of glass, before Bruce pulled himself back to the present with a sharpness that made Thor wince in sympathy.

Thor wanted to send Bruce away. He wanted to retreat back into his room, plaster on his armour, grab his hammer and run all the way back to Asgard. Where the light of the rainbow bridge would burn the inadequacy away, and the man on the news could be forgotten under layers of gold.

But Bruce was staring at him, and he wanted to help. His hand was outstretched, and by the Norns Thor wanted to take it.

Thor steadied himself, gently taking Banners hand in his with what he hoped was a brave-ish smile. "Help me choose some clothes?"

Bruce grinned, curly hair falling in his face as he nodded. "I'd be happy to. But you're sure you don't want Stark for this? That guy is kind of the go-to about style."

"No." Thor interjected, perhaps, a little too eagerly. He grimaced, waving his hand in way of an apology. "No, sorry. I'd like you to come. If you want to."

"And I do." Bruce wrapped his fingers around Thor's, squeezing his hand comfortingly. "Now, come on. Let's get you something nice."

***

Midgardian shopping malls were one of Thor's favourite things, although he'd never admit it. The stores, the food, the people, it was all just so perfectly them. And, if he was being perfectly honest, the towering silver spires reminded him of Asgard.

The wide array of floral shirts Bruce kept pulling out and showing to him, less so.

Thor shook his head at another offered combination, turning back to the rail to flick idly through the rack.

"Yeah, I wasn't so sure about that one either. I guess purple is more my colour than yours?" Bruce chuckled softly, leaning against a pillar to idly watch Thor shift through the clothes.

"You certainly wear the colour well, Bruce. I wouldn't like to impose upon it." Thor replied, stepping back from the rail to straighten his shoulders, wincing slightly at the cracking sound that echoed through the mall from being hunched over for far too long. "I did not think Midgardian fashion to be this complicated."

"They're a complicated bunch, that's for sure." Bruce shrugged, one hand reaching up to fidget with his glasses, eyes narrowing at some imperceptible smudge of dirt on the frames.

"You say that like you're not one of them."

Bruce paused, tensing, as he set the glasses carefully back on the bridge of his nose, although his hands never ceased their fidgeting, moving instead to the sleeve of his shirt. "Yeah, well, when you've got a big green man inside of you, a lot of people tend to forget the human part." He shook his head, trying to dismiss it with a wave of his hand. "It's something I've learned to accept, I guess."

Thor met his eyes briefly, trying to convey something that he didn't know how to say. 'I understand' felt so trivial, the comparison so unworthy. He hadn't been hunted like an animal, hadn't been subjected to half of the things that Bruce had. At least, not yet, anyway. But the feeling of otherness, he knew.

He reached forward, tentatively, resting his hand on Bruce's shoulder as softly as he could manage.

"Midgardians truly are complicated creatures." He paused, trying for the smile that Bruce gave so willingly- the one without mockery, with understanding, the small lilt of the face that said that everything truly would be alright. "They are lucky to have you, Bruce Banner. More so than I think they'll ever know. But truly, I hope they discover you, one day. The real you. The man I know you to be, noble of heart and of spirit."

Bruce looked at him then - a long, careful gaze, eyes flitting around Thor's face as if trying to decipher any hidden meaning beneath the words.

The tight hug that followed told Thor that he hadn't found any. It was a simple thing, a quick hold from the side, short enough to be mistaken for a passing show of comradery from afar. But the tightness, the feeling of Bruce's fingers gripping his jacket with a newfound intensity, that was something else. Something different, and entirely, completely welcome.

"Thanks, Thor."

The words alone were nothing special, they'd been said to him from matters of passing cereal to the demolishing of Chitauri vessels, but here, they gleamed a new meaning. One that brought a fluttering feeling into Thor's heart that he could only express with a smile, and an unsuccessful attempt to banish the red from his face.

Bruce's eyes clouded momentarily, and Thor swore he could have seen a flicker of green, although it was gone too quickly to be sure. "Come on. I think I saw something."

Thor didn't have any time to respond before he was being pulled in another direction, Bruce's hand tight around his wrist.

Maybe he was afraid that Thor would wander off, and didn't want to spend the time looking for him. Or maybe, just maybe, Bruce wanted his hand there. Just for the feeling of Thor's skin under his.

Thor slowed to a halt as Bruce began rifling through the jacket section, staring blankly at the scientist in front of him. Somehow, Stark was right. Of course Stark was right. Bruce wasn't just a compatriot, not to him.

Thor had well and truly fallen for him.

He didn't think he could fall any further until a bundle of red velvet material was pushed into his arms, and he was faced by the scientists rare smile, tinged with something akin to shyness as he moved from foot to foot.

"This one. Try this one."

Thor turned to the mirror he was being all but thrown at, shrugging the jacket onto his shoulders.

Red material, adorned with black embroidery. Elegant, but not otherworldly. At least, not completely.

Thor's fingers brushed against the fabric, against the welcoming weight of it across his shoulders and back, and he breathed out a smile.

"It's you. It's just...it's you." Bruce's reflexion appeared next to his, calloused fingers tugging the collar of the jacket into position with a reaffirming nod.

"I can't take all the credit. The big guy said it reminded him of your cape, and I just thought-"

"It's wonderful, Bruce. Truly." Thor smiled at himself, then down at Bruce, tucking the jacket back into the basket with a sigh that was finally one of content. "You are wonderful. I'm just sorry not everyone seems to realise it."

Bruce glanced downwards briefly, a soft laugh escaping his lips. A touch cynical, perhaps, but warm. Kind. Real.

"I guess I'm just one of those complex midgardians?"

"That, and so much more." Thor's hands found Bruce's shoulders, blue eyes staring down into brown. "Thank you, for this. It...it means more than you could know."

"I can't promise that it'll solve everything. It's just a jacket. But, y'know, if it's a step in the right direction?"

"It is."

"Then I'd gladly do it again." Bruce took a tentative step forward, reaching up to push a stray strand of hair out of Thor's eyeline. "If it can make this place feel more like home for you, I think I'd do just about anything."

Thor's breath hitched in his throat, and for a moment, he couldn't breathe.

His voice died down to a whisper, although he couldn't quite keep the small bite of challenge out of it. Something to fall back on, in case he'd misread, and this was truly all just a joke. If he kept a smile, he could laugh it off. Just in case.

"Care to prove that?" His voice shook as his hands found Bruce's, which were somehow on the side of his face now, and by the Norns he was close. Close enough for Thor to see the spattering of hazel in Bruce's eyes, like stars spread across the blues and greens of the galaxy that he knew like the back of his hand.

Bruce nodded. His feet pushed up, and his lips touched Thor's, and the world around them fell away.

***

"So, if he comes up to you, just tell him he looks nice." Bruce glanced around the room, the loud sounds of the party echoing just a little too closely in his ears. "I mean, I get that you'd do it anyway, but just this time-"

"Relax, Bruce. I'll be sure to tell your godly space boyfriend that he looks perfectly ravishing." Tony shook his head, eyes crinkling in a smile as he covered his laugh with his glass.

"What?" Bruce raised an eyebrow quizzically, nudging Tony in the shoulder to try and prompt a response outside of smirking.

"Nothing, just..." He took a drink, setting the glass down onto the counter. "You didn't correct me when I said boyfriend."

Loud laughter brought Bruce's attention to halfway across the room, where Thor was standing, sharing a drink with Steve. He was smiling, gestures wild enough to only be a retelling of some story or other. No doubt embellished to hell and back with the amount of sound effects the large man seemed to be doing.

Bruce smiled fondly when Thor caught his eye, raising his hand in a wave.

"No." He finally turned back to Tony, the smile not quite banished from his features. "No, I didn't."

[stcrr]

elle fanning. cis female. she/her.  ／  lorelei “lorrie” gunther just pulled up blasting which witch by florence + the machine  — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty-three year old musician, i’ve heard they’re really -reclusive, but that they make up for it by being so +observant. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say chipped glitter nail polish, a silver gilt mirror, losing yourself in the beat of the music. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( ally, 22, est, she/her )

me: i don’t have a type when it comes to muses! also me: unveils this new muse that is also introverted and anxious but this time with more glitter. anyways, meet lorelei, starr to her fans, and lorrie to her friends, an observant girl, gifted mimic, misfit, mirror, and musician. kind of a jem and the holograms/hannah montana/perfect blue hybrid. details under the cut, like for me to hyu to plot !! 

(also her pinterest im really proud of it you guys)

statistics.

full name. lorelei amelia gunther. nicknames. lorrie. aliases. starr. occupation. singer-songwriter. age. twenty-three. date of birth. february 1st, 1997.  nationality. american. ethnicity. white (austrian and irish).  gender | orientation. cis female | queer. hometown. boston, ma. zodiac sign. aquarius sun, scorpio moon, pisces rising career/voice claim. lorde.

height. 5′9 weight. 120lbs build. willowy.  distinguishing features. wide eyes, full lips, constant bags, probably has glitter in her hair.  health. 7/10; has no major illnesses but eats like shit, has a whack sleep schedule, is a dysfunctional adult basically. she’s also big depressed but you know how it be. 

positive traits. ambitious, intuitive, observant, imaginative, independent,  neutral traits. talkative, intense, impressionable,  negative traits. anxious, avoidant, moody, secretive, resentful, aloof, 

likes. the nighttime, storms, baggy clothes, mountains, weed, lsd, books, blanket forts, lying on the floor, singing, cryptids, cemeteries,  dislikes. being herself, deadlines, dolls/puppets, the paparazzi, social media, planning ahead, the outdoors, conflict, the beach, 

history. 

(tw suicide mention, anxiety attack) (tldr at the bottom)

her mother called her lorelei after the sirens of the rhine; she insisted her first cries were the sweetest song. and lorelei continued to have a beautiful voice; she sang more than she spoke. but only at home. 

she never responded to lorelei, though, not really; it felt too grand for her. she was a chicken-legged girl who liked overalls and goosebumps books. she was just lorrie.

she grew up in a lower-middle class region of boston, ma. her father was a salesman, and her mother was a travel agent. 

for a while, at school, she didn’t speak at all. she was diagnosed with selective mutism at age five, and it took until she was thirteen to overcome it completely. 

this was not at all helped by the fact that her parents had a nasty divorce when she was seven years old. her father used her mother’s ten-year-old suicide attempt against her in court to prove she wasn’t stable, and gained full custody of lorelei and her two older brothers. her oldest brother, matthias, sided with their father, but the middle brother, jeremias, sided with their mom, and tried to run away to his mother’s house basically every month. he ran away for good when he was fifteen, living with his girlfriend’s family. 

what helped her overcome this selective mutism, at least at first, was her middle school drama class. at home, lorelei had always been an excellent mimic. she did her favorite impressions for her drama teacher, and she encouraged her to try some monologues and scenes. as she got better at acting, she realized that she didn’t have to be herself; she could be somebody else. and that made talking all the easier. 

by high school, she was no longer selectively mute, but was still anxious and shy. she was, however, a total drama kid, and still loved to act. she could be outrageous, incredible on stage; she wasn’t being herself, after all, so if people were judging her, it was the character they were judging, not her. 

still she was def the kind of girl who had a mental breakdown every four months and dyed/cut her hair/gave herself bangs. she could never quite shake the feeling that she was an outsider looking in, separated, different. 

she still loved music, and as she grew older, she started to write songs. it was her secret dream to be a musician. one of her theater friends talked her into singing one of them when she was sixteen, and then encouraged her to try out for the talent show. she was able to get through the audition, though she was a little nervous, but she knew it would be fine. she was on stage all the time, this would be fine. 

but this time, she had to be herself in front of the entire school, and she froze up, not a sound leaving her lips. she doesn’t remember leaving the stage; only remembers that suddenly, she was in the girls bathroom, sobbing her eyes out. 

her friends comforted her that night, partying in their basement like they always did, but thats when lorrie had an idea. what if she didn’t perform as herself? 

that’s when a starr was born. 

as lorelei dressed herself up in all the holo and glitter she had, she created starr in her head; she was born beloved, charismatic, fearless, this glitz and glamor girl who had it all, but what now? even at the top, she found emptiness. she was a beautiful supernova, so breathtaking you forgot she was really a collapsing star. 

starr was lorrie’s ultimate muse; she wrote song after song for her in the next few months, until, finally, she asked some of her friends to help her record a music video. she didn’t expect this music video to get 60 million views in a matter of weeks. 

royals, of course, blew the fuck up, and she had people calling her house to get her to sign with this record company or that record company, and her eventual producer flew her out to la with her dad. and, of course, the rest is history. (her dad also blew a lot of the money she earned as a minor but she got rid of him and that’s neither here nor there.) 

however, as she got more and more into the la lifestyle, she began to rely more and more on starr as an alter ego. people liked starr, after all, and lorrie didn’t even like herself. she played the part of the dignified, wise, and eccentric former queen during interviews, when recording, at after parties and award shows. 

even her first major relationship she got while acting like starr, someone fearless and fun, basically a manic pixie dream girl. if you’ve ever listened to the album melodrama, then you know how badly that ended. 

that’s around when she realized that starr had taken over her entire life. coming home from a house party absolutely zonked, she looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself, didn’t see that nerdy, overall-clad chicken-legged girl from her family pictures. 

she stripped her clothes off, scraped the makeup off her face until her skin was red and dry, dragged a brush through her hair to get rid of all the product, and pulled on a hoodie and leggings she had brought with her to la a year ago. she wrote the first draft of all the songs in melodrama in the coming hours. 

however, she still wrote from starr’s perspective, knew she’d perform it as starr. it may be far more personal, but lorrie wasn’t ready to come out just yet. in fact, she’s kind of been hiding the last year or so, a full-on depression mess. 

tl;dr lower middle class nerdy girl from boston overcomes crippling social anxiety through acting, finesses this into an alter ego to be a musician, hits it big, loses herself in the alter ego, has a disastrous relationship, and tries to become herself again. 

present.

first of all, her real name is Known to the public, but not her “brand” outside of starr. it’s proven to be a boon as of late; she’s known for basically being a walking sailor moon cosplayer, not a skinny woman in baggy jeans and a big black hoodie.

since she’s trying to work on herself, she’s kind of in a creative slump. like, she still has more than enough royalties off her music to keep her going, but her agent and producer are both pushing her to clean up some of her songs and record them for a new album. she can still write as starr, but it feels... different, now. melodrama was far more personal than pure heroine, and she wants to continue to grow; writing as starr feels like reverting back to her sixteen year old self. but she’s too scared to write as herself So....

at events though she’s still in the gauze and stars people expect from starr. 

trying to reach out to her mom and brother jer again. not her dad, fuck her dad. 

loves true crime, the supernatural, and conspiracy thought. is probably watching a true crime doc rn. 

she’s just starting to leave her house for the first time in like... a year? like she’s only started to get out again in the last few months.

as for drugs, she def drinks, but she’s more likely to smoke weed. also, she’s a big fan of lsd, but holds herself off to only tripping every few months.

is considering moving to the woods and being the lonely crone everyone whispers about. or maybe switching to voice acting. 

she fuckin hates dolls. literally her worst nightmare is being trapped in some collectors’ doll rooms.  

wanted connections. 

melodrama ex (0/1) - the ex she wrote her breakup album about. can be any gender. i literally want this connection so bad kfdskjkadsfds

best friend (0/1) - someone who was with her throughout her... Transformation

squad (0/3) - bc who doesn't love a squad. this is the vibe i’m going for (sound warning)

icon (1/1) - someone lorrie looks up to and like... majorly doesn't wanna disappoint. - filled by kami!!!

musician buddies (0/?) - they bounce lyrics off of each other, you know how it is.

rival pop star (0/1) - idk i just think it would be Neat. maybe even with a plot that they had a major falling out and now they have to pretend to get along.

hookups (0/?) - or other messy shit

texting crush (0/1) - really weird concept but like... i imagine lorrie would have the number or snap or insta or whatever of this muse and they get talking after melodrama and she just... lays it all out. they don't really talk in person, but she feels really close to them and definitely develops a crush

weed buddy (0/1) - they come to her house and smoke and complain its great

friend turned enemy (0/1) - maybe someone who adored starr but doesn't like who she is now?????? idk idk

enemy turned friend (0/1) - maybe someone who thought starr was fake af but then meets lorrie being Herself and is just like "oh you're a Human" idk idk

bonus.

as a thank you for making it to the end of this fucking enormous intro, please take a moment to enjoy these tik toks reflective of lorrie’s personality (they’re also???? great on their own) 

lorrie talking/singing to herself alone in her house 

honestly she has tinkerbell vibes

drunk mouths speak sober thoughts

and thats on mental illness

[failsona]

Recovery - Chapter 5

Warnings: KnucklesXSilver/Knuxilver, hinted sonadow, something bad happened to timid little brother Silver. Over protective big brother Shadow, emotional trauma, emotional breakdown, boyxboy. More may be added. 

Support Me With A Warm Green Tea ~<3 https://ko-fi.com/A8333GVJ

Chapter 5: Promises

Silver's mood had brightened, he felt better, now that he had his friend back.

He knew things wouldn't go back to the way they were before though. He knew they'd both be facing challenges and sometimes things may be awkward, but right now it was perfect.

Currently he was rather amused. They couldn't decide what they wanted to watch on t.v., so Knuckles suggested flipping through stations until they found something they both might like.

Flipping into the 800 stations and so far nothing, and Knuckles was getting very frustrated, and repeatedly threatened to just turn the t.v. off. Something he still had yet to do.

Stubborn guardian.

Silver couldn't help but chuckle as Knuckles began to mutter “One-thousand channels, and there's nothing on.”  “Knuckles, um, you might wanna just settle for a music channel or something. You're um, heading into the 900's”  “Yeah, and there's still nothing.” “That's not-”  “Not even a Rush Hour movie. Those are always on.”  “Umm, you might wanna-”  

The next channel that came on, made Silver cut himself off.  

On screen was a human woman wearing see through underwear, laying on her back, rubbing her hands along her chest, while sitting in between her legs, was grey a vixen in a trashy school girl uniform that barely left anything to the imagination, playing up to the camera, licking her lips and leaning forward to show off her cleavage.

Both friends just stared at the scene for a few moments, trying to register what they were seeing.

Knuckles finally came to his senses and quickly changed the channel back to a rock music station.

“O-oh look, um, eh, it's you're favourite band! Empire Of Dirt! Eh-heh.” He stuttered, he felt like the sweat was pumping out of him as tried to keep talking about the music that was playing.

God this was awkward.

After a few moments of nervous babbling, the guardian finally noticed Silver had yet to say  anything.

Looking over at his friend, he saw Silvers head bowed, ears pinned back against his head, fingers digging into his thighs.

Shit! He upset him!

Panicking, Knuckles scooted closer to his young friend and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Kid? Hey, I-I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!”

Silver finally lifted his head to look at his guardian, and Knuckles was surprised to see his face so flushed, and was that a grin?

“Wh-what are you grinning at?”  “That lady, the vixen, she lives down the road.”

Well that was unexpected.

Trying to stop himself from laughing, Knuckles coughed into his hand. “Ehem. O-oh really.”

“Yup. She works part time at the fruit and vegetable shop.”

“No way, you're messing now. She doesn't work there.” The guardian sniggered into his hand.

Silver shrugged, his huge grin still present on his flushed face. “Fine, don't believe the truth. All I know is, I don't think we'll be able to buy cucumbers there any more without being embarrassed.”

Oh that was it!

“Shut up you little brat!” the guardian laughed and pulled the younger hedgehog into his lap, one arm wrapped tightly around his waist while his free hand rubbed up the boys side, until the boy started to giggle.

“Found it!”  Knuckles declared and tickled Silver, making him squirm and burst out laughing, and gasping trying to catch his breath.

“S-stoHEHEHAHA! C-CANNNNNN NYAHHEHEHEE! BREEEHEEEEAATHEEE!”

“Fine, I'll let you breathe.” The guardian sighed dramatically and let Silver go.

Falling back onto the couch, face flushed, fur a mess, he tried catching his breath, but he couldn't stop giggling.

Grinning the echidna gently flicked the tip of Silver's ear, earning another set of giggles. “Heh, c'mon. Calm down now. Calm you're breathing, you sound like you're going into labour.” “Haha, shut up!” Silver laughed and playfully hit him with the couch cushion.

Knuckles look down at the young hedgehog, a small smile gracing his lips. “Heh, didn't realise I'd missed hearing you laugh so much.”

The white hedgehog winced and slumped down in the couch, mood suddenly darkening.“Don't say things like that.” He muttered, looking away from his friend.

“What? It's true though. Silver?”

“Don't say things you don't mean.”

Knuckles shuffled closer to him, and gently put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” he spoke softly “I do mean it. I know things have been.......well, I haven't been there for you, and even today I was pretty reluctant to come here.”

The echidna panicked when the boy began to shiver. “B-but, I realised I was wrong for not being there for you. I was too busy mourning over the friend I thought I lost. I was too focused on how I felt, instead of being there for you. I thought, what we had was gone, I thought you were gone.”

Knuckles gently took hold of the boys chin, tilting his head back to look at him. His heart dropped when he saw his eyes welling up with tears.

“I was so wrong. You're not gone, you're still there, you're still YOU. Just, you're hurt.”

The dam broke, and immediately the guardian wrapped his arms around the hedgehog, pulling him close against his chest as the boy began to sob, his body shaking.

“Wh-ahat took yo so l-lo-ong! D-dumm-mmy!” The white hedgehog cried, gripping his friends shoulders and nuzzling his face against his chest. “M-missed. Sooo much! Missed t-this! Missed Youuu!”

Patting the back of his head, the echidna cooed to the boy “I know, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'll never abandon you again. I promise.”

Silver stiffened “Don't!”

“I don't care what you say, or believe, I will protect you. I'm not going back on that, I'm not going to abandon you.” The guardian growled, as his hold on the boy tightened a little, as if to emphasize his promise.

Silver whimpered, but nodded his head. “A-alright.”

The pair remained like that for a few minutes, Silver had calmed his, his breathing soft and slow, his body no longer shaking.  

Silver felt drained, he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

Knuckles noticed Silver's struggles to stay awake and he chuckled lightly and leaned back against the cushions, bringing the hedgehog with him and allowing him to lay on him and use him as a pillow.

“There, that better kid? Comfy?” No response. “Eh, Kid? Silver?” Knuckles looked down and saw Silver's eyes were closed. Sleep won.

“Get some rest then.” He sighed, and turned his attention to the tv, that had some music video of some band in a garage and a woman dancing exotically on the hood of a car. “Really?” He grumbled and grabbed the remote and switched to a nature station that had a show about building ridiculous fish tanks. “They'd turn anything into a show these days.”

Despite his complaints, he never changed the channel,  and just lay there, partially paying attention, while he pet the back of the hedgehog's head as he slept.

[ahogedetective]

CHARACTER STUDY: Seiichi Sugihara

Tagged by: Nobody, snagged it  ~ Tagging: @detectiveblues @nightmaresadvocate @feeblenightmare @theholylight @ultequivocator @ghostbvllet @unspoopyv @undetectv aaand whoever else hasn’t done this!

—    BASICS.

▸IS YOUR MUSE TALL/SHORT/AVERAGE? Well most boys his age tend to be a bit taller, so I would say...average, leaning more towards tall? Then again, I guess it depends on how tall you find 5′07″ for an 18 year-old boy. ▸ARE THEY OKAY WITH THEIR HEIGHT? Yep! Doesn’t really care about it, but is at least glad he’s tall enough to not have to worry about not being to reach most things. ▸WHAT’S THEIR HAIR LIKE? It’s neck-length and black, pretty smooth feeling. ▸DO THEY SPEND A LOT OF TIME ON THEIR HAIR AND GROOMING? No time at all, since he always just wears a cap, anyways. Though if it looks real messy, he’ll brush it a bit. ▸DOES YOUR MUSE CARE ABOUT THEIR APPEARANCE/WHAT OTHERS THINK? Yeah, he makes sure he doesn’t look like a sloppy mess, as he’d personally hate to look like one: at least, when out in public or at school. Well, he kind of does: at least in regards to his hat, as he really dislikes it when someone teases him about wearing it to hide his face.

—    PREFERENCES.

▸INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? Indoors, definitely. ▸RAIN OR SUNSHINE? He likes rain really only when he’s not in it: otherwise, sunshine ▸FOREST OR BEACH? Forest: not that he dislikes beaches, but I think he’d find walking through a forest more calming and nice. ▸PRECIOUS METALS OR GEMS? I...guess metals, kdjfnfjd, he really doesn’t care much for either? Well, I guess if it’s like....silver of gold versions of DR merch or whatever. ▸FLOWERS OR PERFUMES? Flowers, with cherry blossoms being one of his favorite ▸PERSONALITY OR APPEARANCE? Personality far more than appearance, as he finds someone with a nice personality far more appealing. ▸BEING ALONE OR BEING IN A CROWD? Being alone. Crowds make him very anxious and he will get out from one fast as he can, if able to. ▸ORDER OR ANARCHY? Order. Like, it’s kind of ironic since, for example: he’d never be okay with murder in real life, but in DR, since the show is ran legally, in that situation: murder is fine with him. But the show aside, for the most part, he’s not one for chaos. ▸PAINFUL TRUTHS OR WHITE LIES? Nervous and anxious as he is, he’s still more honest and a truther. At most, he’d lie about feeling fine if he isn’t or whenever he feels it’s probably better to lie than be truthful. ▸SCIENCE OR MAGIC? Science; mostly forensic science, since it’s very common to see in cases during detective/case-centered games and media. ▸PEACE OR CONFLICT? Peace: he hates conflict, especially if he’s involved. It irks and unnerves him to no end, wanting to get out of it soon as possible. ▸NIGHT OR DAY? Night for the most part, since he spends it in the comfort of his own room. ▸DUSK OR DAWN? Dawn, I’d say: since he usually has to be up pretty early, anyways. I think he would find the color of the sky before it hits early morning really pretty. ▸WARMTH OR COLD? Warmth, as he doesn’t really like to feel cold. For him, being warm feels very cozy, especially if he’s under a blanket while it’s pretty chilly in the room. ▸MANY ACQUAINTANCES OR A FEW CLOSE FRIENDS? Few close friends, not that he really...has many, anyways, dfkjnfdnjfd ▸READING OR PLAYING A GAME? Reading! Detective/mystery novels and manga being some of his favorite things to read.

—    QUESTIONNAIRE.

▸WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR MUSE’S BAD HABITS? Well, if there one I can say he has for sure: it’s his very bad tendency to belittle himself. While he tries not to reject or shoot down a genuine compliment, it’s usually pretty hard for him to truly accept them, as he doesn’t view himself as someone worthy of it. He also stammers pretty bad, which worsens when he’s nervous. ▸HAS YOUR MUSE LOST ANYONE CLOSE TO THEM? HOW HAS IT AFFECTED THEM? Not really, but if he did, it’d devastate him and really have a bad effect on his mental health, making him isolate himself even more for a while. ▸WHAT ARE SOME FOND MEMORIES YOUR MUSE HAS? He...sadly doesn’t have that many. The few good memories he tends to have, is usually small things like having had a real fun time with someone or growing closer to a friend. ▸IS IT EASY FOR YOUR MUSE TO KILL? While I know most interpret pregame boy as some murderous yandere, Seiichi wouldn’t kill anyone in real life. If he kept his memories during the killing game, that’s different, but aside from that: no, it wouldn’t be easy for him to kill anyone in general. ▸WHAT’S IT LIKE WHEN YOUR MUSE BREAKS DOWN? It’s rare for Seiichi to break down...in front of anyone, at least. When he does, it’s usually when he’s alone in his room. For the most part, it’s him either having a bad panic attack or all the sadness or anger built up too much to the point he has an emotional breakdown, trembling and crying hard. ▸ IS YOUR MUSE CAPABLE OF TRUSTING SOMEONE WITH THEIR LIFE? He can be, but he has to really, really be comfortable with you and trust you enough to be able to, though he probably would never want to “burden” anyone with that, anyway. ▸WHAT’S YOUR MUSE LIKE WHEN THEY’RE IN LOVE? If not in the relationship with the person he’s in love with, he’ll think about them pretty often and get flustered, kjfkjfjdfd, and the kind things they to him or do to him, it’ll make him real happy and combust, hehe

[theweirdwideweb]

Hey if youre willing to share could you describe your experience with your c-ptsd? How has it affected you personally or what does it mean for you? Recently I have been diagnosed with a similiar mental illness and I feel lost, I dont know anymore which one is me and which one is the illness.

I find that the illness is central to who I am, to be honest with you. I talk about my illness quite a lot here but just a general overview: I was abused as a child, had a nervous breakdown at 19 and was hospitalized a half dozen times, then diagnosed with c-ptsd at 20. I’ve spent the last ten years of my life I guess you could say “recovering” from that point, but tbh my life was almost as bad for at least the next 6 years. I was in abusive relationships with men and did every drug you can name—I could have been dead many many times and very easily. Then over the last 4 years or so I’ve made a lot of changes and grown in understanding about my condition and greatly improved. I’ve been running this blog for about 5 years and I’d say it’s the central theme, as it is most definitely the central theme of my life. I got this condition from being abused as a child. My brain didn’t grow like other people’s. It’s not like my foot is fucked up—the brain is the lens through which you view the entire world. I guess there’s a part of me that feels separate from the illness, some sort of higher brain function that feels like it’s steering this ship towards health. But then again, I’m often wrong and often deceived by my illness. When looking for a silver lining I think of how much humility it has given me to be truly crazy. I’ve seen and experienced things that would make other people’s hair stand on end. It’s something that I’m aware of more or less every moment of the day--- because it’s something I have to fight daily or I’ll be dead! I find more silver linings there. My life is not boring and I know how to fight for something, and I value very deeply all the peace I can get. 

[elane-in-the-shadows]

Red Queen Fan Fiction - Blood Curse Chapter 24

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chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

chapter 8

chapter 9

chapter 10

chapter 11

chapter 12

chapter 13

chapter 14

chapter 15

chapter 16

chapter 17

chapter 18

chapter 19

chapter 20

chapter 21

chapter 22

chapter 23

chapter 24

chapter 25

chapter 26

chapter 27

chapter 28

chapter 29

Final chapter

Mare POV

Evangeline’s leave has an impressive impact, given her presence was a secret to most. Thus, the reactions are likewise small and hidden, but I notice them, knowing where to look. It’s when we talk about seeing Norta as a whole turning into a battlefield. “I worry how she’s going to get through,” I say one time, and Farley chokes on her tea.

“You mean she’ll call attention to herself?” she dissembles.

“No, I wonder whether she left Harbor Bay at all.” I glare at Farley who – for once – avoids glaring back. She lets me wait for an answer too long, frozen, like she’s considered that herself. “I didn’t have that impression,” she claims, but her fingers twitch.

“So, you aren’t afraid of her lurking in a corner?”

She shrugs and rises. “I have to call Davidson in Archeon again,” she says as a goodbye and I want to ask if she rues letting Evangeline go. She told me that night Evangeline’s more of a danger in here – but now she’s out of our control.

In the meantime, Tiberias parts with the control he had over Harbor Bay, by handing it to us. His hold has been tenuous at best, only improved by the Scarlet Guard presence. After he caused Evangeline’s breakdown, he pulled away as if ashamed by himself. Typical. Typical, typical, I curse inwardly. A Silver’s fate moves him to change, and for a silly reason that had nothing to do with the city he tries to protect.

I’m so close to scolding him again but more and more that makes me feel like demeaning myself – I’ve tried that often enough. And it’s good he decreases his influence, isn’t it? Harbor Bay and Norta need no Calores, we do the job more efficiently than the remaining Silver elite, Ada for the internal, Farley on the external politics. Although we lost the bargaining chip Evangeline was, so now we can wait anxiously for what the Rift will do once they settle their conflict with the Lakelands and learn what terrible things happened to their princess. The conflict could last years, but Evangeline could turn up dead or accusing the Scarlet Guard for confining her at any moment.

Deep down, I’m glad she’s gone, no longer a captive like I was. As I was relieved when the royal children form Piedmont were freed, even though that has cost us the Winghill Base down there.

I’m obviously biased in some matters.

Harbor Bay makes me nervous, my tasks bore me, and Tiberias unsettles me. I have my friends and my brother here, but I realize how I become unhinged again, discontent and afraid I’ll stay this way as long as Maven lives. If he does. I begin to fear I’ll always feel followed, haunted by him, even after I learn of his death and see his dead body.

“We might leave Harbor Bay again,” Farley says when I talk to her about my unrest. “I’m not supposed to take a permanent government position to begin with.”

“Want to call a storm with me again, Mare?” Rafe proposes.

“Do you want to go back to Mom and Dad?” Tramy asks.

“If you feel overwhelmed by these fights, you can always come to me,” Kilorn promises. “I’ve trained, now I make funnier puns than Tiberias Calore.”

And so on. I know my friends are ready to help me, and I try to open up to them. I really do. But I’ve come to anticipate their answers and advices and they don’t make it easier to overcome the gaping, urging, demanding hole in my heart. Distractions are good, like fighting and training and spending time together but they seem so pointless afterwards.

Try another kind of distraction, I consider sometimes. The kind I once forbid myself with Tiberias.

Of course, those are still forbidden, and I can’t believe myself, when I want him back in moments of arousal. Sometimes I run into him, or suddenly meet his gaze during a meeting and see a similar desire written on his face, one that makes me blush to recognize.

Every time, I turn away again and take flight, forcing myself to think about the state of the city and come up with ideas to further the Scarlet Guard’s agendas.

Ideas from those moments are never good, although Ada smiles while hearing them, just to be nice. She’ll make a good mayor for Harbor Bay, even though she and Farley hesitate to say that out loud. Once they’ll do it, we’ll leave Harbor Bay behind to find another place to fight for. This will be an endless task, occupying us for years and deep down, I’m aware that work won’t change my own frustration unless I forget it somehow, by some miracle or sheer exhaustion.

I get permission to make a few distance calls to my parents and Gisa in their settlement. My sister is more than excited to tell me about her now official relationship with Cameron, and Mom’s keen on reminding Kilorn and me to look after Clara, as if I made a decent baby-sitter. “Farley does well on her own,” I reply.

“And are you doing well, too, Mare?” Mom asks. I pause. “Dad and I want you to be safe, but happy as well,” she adds.

I bite back the watering of my eyes. “That’s what I wish for as well, Mom.”

 The freezing cold February and March don’t stop the fights in- and outside of Harbor Bay and thus delay any ideas of leaving the city. Again, I think of Evangeline who makes no appearances we hear of. She must’ve left the area long ago.

“This is a bloody stalemate,” I tell Farley who’s unnervingly smiling.

“I’m so close to call for reinforcements from Archeon, too,” she confesses.

“And?”

She shrugs. “Won’t help. We already do the best we can with the patrols and our numbers. What we lack is information to take out the Silver gangs for good.”

Ada looks up. “I do have a few more good tips.”

“About those who Tiberias will never agree to be removed, as that would take out the few Silvers he trusts,” I object. He insists on clemency for cooperative witnesses, even if there’s evidence they continue to work against the Scarlet Guard and commit crimes against the Reds of the city.

“Since when do you care about his opinions again?” Farley says, and it’s a bait born of her own stunted ambitions.

A bait that easily traps me. “I do not. Assign me a team and I’ll dispatch them.”

Farley looks to Ada. “I can tell you about those certainly involved in illegal activities,” Ada says. “Those should be vital to assault.”

Farley nods. “I’ll have to order the reinforcements anyway,” she says. “The city will have to stand after the Lightning Girl dealt with it.”

Three days later, we’ve completed the task, we lost no one. Ada praises our success in a very outspoken manner, given her standards. The mood has changed profoundly, it’s like spring has come with this victory, even the weather becomes warmer, if slowly. Did she know the Silvers killed and arrested today from before? I plan to ask her later on, as she’s currently occupied with replying to the reactions to announcement of the razzia. She actually enjoys it, it can only be a matter of time until her next announcement: her candidature for the position of Harbor Bay’s mayor. While we soldiers, who did the most work are called out, receive less spotlight – to my relief.

I’ve greeted Kilorn and Tramy when I arrived at the town hall, to tell them of the safe outcome of the mission, but I can’t find them anymore as the building become more and more crowded. Nor can I see Sara or Farley, only glimpsing Julian in the distance.

“Are you really happy about this?” Tiberias hisses behind me. When I turn, he’s practically figuratively and literally fuming. I raise an eyebrow.

“You’re celebrating death,” he adds.

“Not to the extent of some parties I saw Maven have,” I sneer and step away. He grabs my wrist and makes my skin prickle. “Tiberias – “

“Mare.” Less enraged now. “It’s over, and you know it.”

I pull away, lay my hand he took on my chest. “Exactly.” I glare up to him.

He shakes his head. “I need to show you something. If you came to residence tomorrow?” He sounds a little hopeless, and rightly so. I’m still hardly able to enter the residence without becoming dizzy, and rarely tried again.

He notices my hesitation, which he must’ve anticipated. He lowers his head. “It’s more than overdue for me to abdicate,” he says, making my eyes widen. “Here, and in Archeon. I’ll leave for the capital in a few days.”

“Good,” I reply, still disbelieving.

He cackles. “I see, you don’t trust me. But please, try to come in the morning.”

I stop myself from nodding like an idiot and go, sipping from a flute I grabbed in passing. That’s right, this is a night of celebration. And why not? The most menacing gang is as good as disbanded after the razzia, and according to rumours, the Rift won over the Lakelands with so great losses they’re calling for Monfort and Guard support. If they need us, they’ll have to accept our terms. And after all, Tiberias Calore VII will relinquish his claim to the throne of Norta. It almost seems like our efforts are leading somewhere.

“Where’s the general?” I ask a Red Watchman. I’ve grown curious about Farley’s absence at Ada’s great evening.

“In her office, Operative Barrow,” he answers with a salute. “Congratulations on your victory.”

I grin. “A group effort, and a joy for all of us and Harbor Bay.” 

Four seconds pass before Farley reacts to my knocks on her door. Her “come in” is quiet and husky, and her demeanour is similarly tired. She sits on the floor, leaning against the wall and watches Clara crawl on the floor.

“Haven’t you heard?” I ask.

“Sure.”

“Will Ada stay here, Farley?”

She inclines her head and says nothing for seconds. In her silence, I search for something else to say, if only an excuse to leave. She is so inactive that even her few movements to guide Clara around seem strange, while the girl’s already trying to stand up and walk.

“My father’s dead,” she says eventually.

Oh. “I’m sorry,” I reply, as it’s the only thing to say. Their relationship was so odd, the colonel such a hard man.

“He’s never held Clara,” Farley tells me. “He never asked.” Pause. “I’ve never offered him to, either.” She doesn’t move or make a sound when a tear rolls down her cheek.

I sit down next to her and take her hand. Her other one beckons Clara who soon comes closer to fall on Farley’s lap. Farley snuffles. “I heard when I asked for the reinforcements. Not from Archeon, but from Corvium, where they were still stationed after they left the Samos army.”

“They were closer,” I say.

She nods. “Yes. But apparently, the Samos forces went back to fight in the Lakelands, to free their king or whatever. Well, they lost, and the Lakelander forces charged into Norta again, over the choke. ‘We made peace with Maven Calore, not with traitors and Red rats,’ they proclaimed. Probably something about Maven’s missing queen too.

“So, my father marched with the comrades in Corvium to defend the borders.” She scoffs. “How ironic.”

“He knew which side he fought for,” I say carefully.

“Right,” Farley agrees, “of course. The Cygnets are our enemies, and now they killed him as well.”

Another pause.

“Farley?”

“Hmm?”

“Did we lose?”

She shakes her head. “The battle’s still going on.” She sighs. “We won’t get help from them. Indeed, we have to support them.”

“I’ll go.”

“That was quick.” She looks at me with concentration. “Okay,” she decides, “you and the team from today coming with you? Tsk. I’ll need the whole night to find out who to send where. Sure to stop the party, but I can leave it to Davidson once I travel to Archeon.”

“You don’t come with me?”

“No.” There’s no indecision in her voice. “I can’t take Clara to Corvium, and I don’t want leave her completely, with the first persons I find trustworthy.” She glances at me, then to Clara, toying with one of her curls. In turn, Clara lifts her small hands to her mother’s wrist. “I just don’t want her to have to settle to strangers again and again. She needs reliability, doesn’t she? Steadiness, people she knows. Me.” She sighs. “The only parent she has.

“You know why I brought her along this time? Because I couldn’t know I wouldn’t be separated from her for months once more. I can’t stand it, no matter how great your parents are with her. But I also want her to be safe. I’d like … to give her a home one day.”

I swallow. “You’re enough for now, I’m sure. Along with the rest of her family.” Farley looks at me, stunned, and I realize what I said: the rest of her family, just after another relative of them has died.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, and get up. “I’ll go now, and make some implications about the new mission –“

“Mare.” I stop. “I know what you mean. We should keep close to the people we love, shouldn’t we? But even that … can be so hard.”

She means her father, of course. But suddenly, I think of Cal. I lost him, truly. Unless he takes part in the mission, I assume we’ll walk different paths for good. And it scares me. Death, and parting without reconciliation. I’ve had enough of that, the unfinished businesses. Evading him in all matters unless they allow me to scold him.

I’ll offer him this evening. We can make peace, then go our ways. But first I need the truth from him.

Back in the hall, I grab and down one drink, then another one, as I search for him. I find him sitting on a couch with his face buried in his hands, apparently no more sober than me. Piles of folders and papers keep him company.

“Hey.”

He doesn’t react, not at first. Is it too much of a miracle that I visit him? Finally he jumps up, his stare both disbelieving and expectant. “What about the thing you wanted to show me?” I ask.

“Umm … better tomorrow. Really.” He hesitates.

I nod. “Can we talk somewhere, still? In your rooms perhaps?”

“… Mare?”

“Just come,” I urge. His rooms are in the residence, and I want their privacy. Although I dread the prospect of entering the palace called Ocean Hill, too. So I walk a step behind him, looking at my feet, tempted for than once to take his hand. Of course I don’t, and I flex my fingers instead. The alcohol helps to drown the sensation of the dark, lost palace, but it loosens my hesitations as well. I know that, and welcome it. Maybe I’m throwing away my good sense, but sober I wouldn’t get my feet and lips to move at all.

He bids me into his suite. It’s richly furnished, but not to kingly standards, as visible as that is in the moonlight. Whatever lodgings he’s taken, they’re likely not those he had before all that.

I follow him in, go to sit with him on a couch. Very close, so our thighs touch. He almost gets up again, but I hold him back with a touch on his arm. “The light,” he starts, but I shake my head.

“Let’s stay in the dark.” I hope that’ll make it easier to speak.

So we sit for a while, in the silent darkness, our features mere schemes in the night. I calm my breath, wait for my heartbeat to slow, but the latter remains unsettlingly fast. I guess it’s the same for him. His closeness feels so warm. I want to begin, but the words stay pinned on my tongue.

He gasps, about to speak, then doesn’t. It’s the moment I decide. “Soon, I’ll go to Corvium and into the Lakelands to fight the invading Cygnet army. Like I was never supposed to escape that fate. You’ll find your own way, or maybe we’ll meet again. I don’t know. But before that, I want us to be honest with each other.” I take a deep breath. “I’m glad to have met you,” I say. “I’ve been falling for you for a long time, when I could’ve needed any person caring about me. You did, and I loved you for it.” A pause to let that sink in. He notices my wording, acknowledges it. His knuckles touch mine.

“If you truly, really, will abdicate,” I continue, “I’ll be glad as well. Then I can forgive you. Cal.”

He takes my hand. One time, I squeeze. Then I pull away.

“But only that. I can forgive you that you betrayed me and the Guard. That you pretended to stand for change when you wished to preserve. That you ignored what I fought for. That you broke your promises.” I look at him, and if he doesn’t meet my eyes, I’ll stand up and go.

He looks back.

“I expect one thing from you,” I say. “Make your pretends come true. Fight the same battle as me, however you can.” Now I take his hand.

He cups my hand in both of his. “I will, Mare, I’d swear by my colours, but I doubt you’d like that.”

I chuckle. “One last time.”

He bows his head. “By the colours of the unseelie House Calore, I promise to support the destruction of the Nortan crown.”

“Still sounds extremely ironic.”

“Yes.” He sighs. “Mare, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. Whether I follow the right path, make the right decisions. I thought I did, or that everyone struggles with finding solutions in the same way I do, although I hardly even strayed from the path I’ve learned to follow. That was – is – careless. Stupid. There’s no excuse for that.”

“No,” I whisper. “There’re only your true, unreflective, egoistic reasons. To cling to the few things you had left.” I leave more words hanging in the air. Confessions of love, pledges. I don’t offer them to him and he’s understanding enough not to demand them. But they linger between us, in his warm eyes.

“Tomorrow, I’ll tell you the rest,” he says. “Why I left Archeon.” A sigh escapes his lips. Our hands are still entwined. “I love you,” he says.

“I know,” I reply. And although I still doubt he can really mean it, although I can’t give him prospects, I can give him tonight, a few moments of madness. Finally, I move away, get up high enough to kiss his brow. My hands are on his thighs, his hand on mine. Then I look into his eyes and kiss him on the lips. They’re hot, chafed, and demanding. I forget time in this last chance for intimate closeness. We kiss until we need to catch breath again, and both of us know what might become of this.

I stand up. “I need the bathroom,” I say, and search my way to it. I wash my face, then lean on the washbasin and turn on the light to look at my face. Certainly not a gorgeous sight, only my exhausted self. I wait, gathering myself to let my arousal vanish. A futile hope.

When I get back into his living room, he’s gone, has taken flight like me. I fall on the seats we were in mere minutes before, and it’s still warm from us. I cuddle against a pillow, embrace myself and stare into the night until I fall asleep.

A/N: I’m deeply sorry I was too lazy to write the fight scene. I feel like I don’t have the time for content that isn’t ultimately necessary to finish the fic. In the end, a generic fight scene didn’t matter, wouldn’t have as much impact as the character interaction here. I mean, I hope so.

I probably should’ve written a Camisa interlude before this chapter, too. But again, I want to get this done soon (and I didn’t have enough inspiration to make it romantic tbh …). 

@clarafarleybarrow @mareshmallow @redqueenfandom @lilyharvord @inopinion @scarletguardsource @kihlorn @mareenattitanos @runexandra @wrenskonos @hannaharies @redqueenforever @marecalrandomstuff @selenbean-beany

[divulgacion-alternativa]

Ben Ful Links | May 3/2021

Source: benjaminfulford.net

Ben Ful Links | May 3/2021:

The biggest thing visible is hyper-inflation emerging in the U.S.  This is something commonly seen during regime collapse.  The cause is the people behind the Biden avatar printing money like there is no tomorrow (for them it is probably true).  Government hand-outs exploded in March to an annualized $8.1 trillion, double the $4.1 trillion from February and $5 trillion above the pre-“pandemic” level of $3.2 trillion. https://www.zerohedge.com/economics/record-34-all-household-income-us-now-comes-government

This is what it has done to commodity prices over last year, even though the party has just barely started: Lumber: +265%, WTI Crude: +210%, Corn: +84%, Copper: +83%, Soybeans: +72%, Silver: +65%, Sugar: +59%, Cotton: +54%, Platinum: +52%, Palladium: +32%, Wheat: +19%, Coffee: +13%. http://themostimportantnews.com/archives/and-the-federal-reserve-is-trying-to-convince-us-that-inflation-isnt-a-problem

Supply-chain experts say they have never seen anything like what is now happening.

“There is a total, global log-jam; goods cannot be shipped in some cases; and supply-side inflation on a scale we have not seen for a long, long time looks imminent.” https://www.zerohedge.com/markets/rabo-we-are-edging-closer-biblical-commodity-price-increase-scenario

There is also a food shortage emerging in the U.S. with food prices rising and basic items like chicken meat running in short supply. https://www.zerohedge.com/markets/one-bank-warns-soaring-food-prices-will-lead-social-unrest

https://www.msn.com/en-us/money/companies/america-is-running-low-on-chicken-blame-covid-19-a-sandwich-craze-and-huge-appetite-for-wings/ar-BB1gcqVF?ocid=uxbndlbing

As of last December, one in seven U.S. households was suffering food shortages.  By January 41.8 million Americans were on food stamps — 13%, more than a year earlier. https://www.newsmax.com/newsfront/biden-food-stamp-programs/2021/05/02/id/1019794/

Meanwhile, all of the Biden funny money being handed out to appease the masses is also removing their incentive to work.  The situation has reached the point where McDonald’s franchises are paying people $50 just to show up for a job interview and convenience store chains are paying $500 signing bonuses. https://www.zerohedge.com/markets/whatever-it-takes-tampa-mcdonalds-exposes-americas-systemic-labor-shortage-forced-pay

https://www.zerohedge.com/markets/royal-farms-offers-500-signing-bonus-labor-shortage-intensifies

“How do we get enough drivers, I don’t know,” was the answer Covenant Logistics CEO David Parker gave analysts last week when asked about the labor shortage. https://www.zerohedge.com/markets/70000-part-time-driver

Uber insider Nathaniel Rothschild has given public hints – to those who pay attention – tweeting such things as:

“What if tomorrow the world changes as we know it?” and “The next crisis will hit you during your sleep, and you will wake up poor.  It will happen lightning fast.  Music is still playing.  Few do realize that every market is deep faked.  So prepare.  Buy physical #Gold and #Silver!!” https://twitter.com/NCJRothschild/status/1385303161448116230

Here is the avatar they are using for day-to-day interactions with the corporate propaganda media Jen Psaki, aka David Rockefeller’s grandson Mark Zuckerberg.

While some of this is certainly fear porn, there can be no doubt that some of these vaccines really are murderous.  In India, it has now become clear their recent breakout of “new variants” of Covid-19 was directly linked to vaccinations.  That is why India’s vaccine czar has left the country for the UK due to “unprecedented” threats. https://qz.com/india/2004105/serums-adar-poonawalla-has-left-india-amid-a-raging-pandemic/?utm_source=reddit.com

Then you have respected magazines like Scientific American noting how “influenza has disappeared,” but failing to reach the conclusion that it has disappeared because its name was changed to “Covid-19.” https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/flu-has-disappeared-worldwide-during-the-covid-pandemic/

In a sign this might be right, we are noticing more and more UFO and space opera stuff appearing in the “mainstream” corporate media.  Here is a sampling from last week, with even the New Yorker magazine getting in on the action.

https://www.dailystar.co.uk/news/weird-news/iss-cameras-film-mystery-v-23995955

https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/14572895/skinwalker-ranch-ufo-pentagon-cows-mutilated/

https://www.vice.com/en/article/5dbpea/scientists-spot-yet-another-unexplained-ring-shaped-radio-structure-in-space

https://www.the-sun.com/news/2793810/ufo-america-spy-failure-9-11-pentagon/

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2021/05/10/how-the-pentagon-started-taking-ufos-seriously

https://deadline.com/2021/04/ufo-fragments-in-possession-lockheed-martin-says-harry-reid-1234748095/

https://www.dailystar.co.uk/news/weird-news/navy-has-discussed-possibility-ufos-24015616

In any case, while the West is going through its nervous breakdown and seeing UFOs, the rest of the world is busy redrawing borders.  This is especially true in the Middle East.  The big story there continues to be the ongoing attempt by the Turks to revive the Ottoman Empire.  Here is the sort of talk they are publicly putting out:

“They are telling us to refrain from altering the post-World War I order, to remain as the West’s eastern front, to avoid any action that will bring the region to us and awaken the main axis of the Earth, which stretches from the Atlantic to the Pacific coasts.  Turkey is much more effective than all European Union countries put together…The West is no longer the world’s center.”

https://www.yenisafak.com/en/columns/ibrahimkaragul/how-exactly-is-turkey-threatening-the-us-the-threat-always-emanated-from-the-west-for-the-last-millennium-this-is-the-greatest-force-since-the-ottoman-empire-3571243

These words are being backed with military action in Libya, Iraq, Kazakhstan, Ukraine, etc. https://sputniknews.com/middleeast/202105011082775984-just-like-we-did-in-syria-turkey-to-build-new-base-in-iraqi-kurdistan-amid-anti-pkk-offensive/

The country with the most to lose is the Israeli crypto colony of Saudi Arabia.  “The Saudis have no more power even with all that oil, Then can’t ‘buy’ respect anymore,” according to the CIA.

In a desperate attempt to avoid a Turkish takeover, Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, and other Gulf countries have been trying to make peace with Iran.  “We are seeking to have good relations with Iran,” Saudi Crown Prince avatar Mohammed bin Salman told Saudi television this week

https://foreignpolicy.com/2021/04/29/saudi-arabia-iran-uae-mohammed-bin-salman-secret-talks-biden-withdrawal-pivot-middle-east/?mc_cid=b591f68c73&mc_eid=fee8fd8a4f

The Saudis need to make peace with Iran because the U.S. military is no longer willing to act as their enforcers.  That is why they are losing the war with Yemen’s Houthis and are in real danger of losing control over their oil fields.  The Yemeni people, who built 12 story tall buildings over a millennia ago, view the Saudis as upstart camel herders who just happened to get lucky with oil.  They want to return their historical place as the true powers in the Arab peninsula and will probably succeed in doing so.  The Saudi may soon get taken out of Arabia.

The other country that is losing its border war is the United States.  Sources along the frontier with Mexico say the border is disintegrating.  “I’ve never seen anything quite like this…it’s the Wild West on steroids,” says Goliad border county Sheriff Roy Boyd. https://www.theepochtimes.com/texas-counties-declare-disaster-over-border-crisis_3793402.html?utm_source=partner&utm_campaign=ZeroHedge

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[emma-writes-stuff]

I’m ready for the last part and once again thanks sm for putting up with my technical difficulties💕💕

No problem! I hope you like the last part!

https://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=232702376

 It had been a few weeks fromthat night, and nothing had changed. Other than the fact that Eleven was back,Max was officially “part of the group”, Billy hit on you slightly less thanusual, and your nightmares were worse than ever before. But this time youdidn’t have Steve to get you through them.

You and Steve were still bestfriends, nothing had changed there. You were still inseparable. He was alwaysat your house, at your locker, driving you home, etc. But you just couldn’tbring yourself to pick up that phone and call him anymore after he had kissedyou. At school was fine, but at night, when you were alone in your bed, youcouldn’t bear to have him hold you and whisper in your ear and fall asleep nextto you, knowing that nothing would ever happen between the two of you becausehe was so appalled by kissing you he would apologize for doing it. And youdefinitely didn’t have the will to tell him that most of the time yournightmares were about losing him.

So, you told him thenightmares had stopped. And whenever he asked why you had black rings underyour eyes or hadn’t slept the night before, you lied.

That day was the middle schooldance, which you were volunteering at for your brother. Hence, you needed aquick ride home, and Steve was the man for the job.

As you climbed in the car, yousmiled at him, throwing your backpack to the floor. “Hey, beautiful,” he saidwith a smile.

“Hey, Mediocrity At Its Best,”you grinned. “You bringing my brother and I to the dance tonight?”

“You know it.”

“Great,” you smiled at him. Itwas just a small smile, but he lit up inside, knowing that that flash of whiteteeth and the happiness on your face had been caused by him. God, he was introuble.

You yawned, only thenrealizing the full extent of your exhaustion and the toll that going three dayswithout any sleep was taking on you. “Hey, Steve, do you mind if I nap the wayhome? I’m so tired.”

“Yeah, go for it. Get in asmuch rest as you can. You know Dustin and the rest of them’ll be so hyper afterthe dance neither of us are gonna get to sleep tonight.”

You laughed a little. “Yeah,you’re right. Alright, ‘night Steve.”

He laughed, too. “Night, Y/N.”

As you closed your eyes, youalmost immediately sunk into a deep sleep. And, with deep sleep, came thehorrible nightmares you had been avoiding for days.

You hadn’t realized it, butafter only a few minutes, you had started thrashing around, whimpering andcrying out in your sleep. Steve was trying to push through, to not mess withyou and to just let you sleep and get you home, but when you screamed out hisname in terror he pulled the car to the side of the road as quickly as possibleand grabbed your hand.

“Y/N! Y/N, please, please,wake up,” he said, emotion filling his voice.

Your eyes flew open and youpanted heavily, the tears racing down your face quickly and without control.You wiped at them frantically, your breaths getting heavier and more ragged bythe second.

“Hey, hey,” Steve saidquietly, reaching his arms around you in an embrace. “It’s okay.” He strokedyour hair as you cried into his shoulder for a moment, only letting go of youwhen you suddenly pulled away and wiped at your tears quickly.

“I thought the nightmares wentaway. What—what happened?”

Suddenly, you were angry. Youwere angry about these nightmares that haunted you everywhere you went, angryat the world for shoving you in this mess, angry at Steve for making you fallin love with him. You were frustrated, and finally you were ready to snap.

“I had the same nightmarethat’s kept me up the last month, Steve. The same one that leaves me screaming my head off and sobbing myself tosleep every night. Well, every night that I actually go to sleep, anyway,I’ve been mostly trying to avoid sleep lately, it hurts too much to go to bedevery night and know that I’m going to watch you die in a million ways rightbefore my eyes. Most of the time it goes a little something like you and me inthe Upside Down, I’m hugging you and then out of nowhere Dustin’s voice screamsthat I have to choose to save you or let you die, and I never know what thatmeans, and then Dart leaps out of the wall and shreds you to pieces right infront of me, but somehow I can never move because I’m trapped, and you laythere screaming and bawling my name, yelling at me and telling me that I couldhave saved you, that I’m doing this to you, that I’m killing you, and thenDustin starts yelling the same thing, then Mike, then Lucas, then Max, untilI’m screaming my lungs out over it all begging it to stop, begging for me tojust die and let it all be over, until I’m not trapped anymore and I collapseto the ground and crawl over to you, and you just grab my hand and say—say thatyou had loved me and then I killed you. And then you just die on the spot, butI can’t wake up. No, I just sit there with your blood spreading all over mewhether I’m touching you or not, and then I finally die and ‘wake up’ again insome new hell where you die again. And it happens over and over and over againuntil I wake up. And then the next night it happens again. And again. Andagain.”

He stared at you as tears randown your face and you angrily yelled all that you had been going through thelast month, and he felt genuine pain gather in himself and tears begin to prickat his own eyes. And when you had finished, his eyes looked right into yours ashe whispered, his voice filled with hurt, “Why did you lie? Why didn’t you tellme about this, or call me, or anything—”

“Why do you think, Steve?” yousnapped, your tears finally ceasing as you grabbed your backpack off the floorand pushed open the door.

“Thanks for the ride, but Ithink I’m just going to walk the rest of the way home,” you whispered, pain inyour voice. “See you at 6.” And with that, you slammed the door shut with aloud bang.

 ~

 https://www.polyvore.com/untitled_237/set?id=232398726

 You stood in front of yourmirror in your room, smoothing out your dress and nervously re-adjusting youralready perfect hair. It wasn’t that you wanted or needed to look goodchaperoning for a middle school dance, it was just that you were so nervousabout seeing Steve after snapping at him today you felt a compulsive need to keepfidgeting with your hands. You felt awful about what you said, yet somehowrelieved. He hadn’t deserved for you to yell at him like that for something sofar out of his control, but he knew now. And with fear of him knowing camealmost a relief that you didn’t have to hide your nightmares from him anymore.You didn’t have to layer on concealer under your baggy eyes or drink ungodlyamounts of disgusting black coffee in the morning to convince him you werefine. But, you would have to eventually explain to him why the kiss had hurtyou so much—and that was what scared you the most.

Even though you were sure thetwo of you would be able to work it out tomorrow, you didn’t think you couldbear to see him tonight after only a few hours had passed between yourbreakdown. So, you had arranged a ride with Nancy and Jonathan, who werechaperoning with you, and you were hoping to sneak out before Steve even gotthere to pick up Dustin.

Unfortunately, fate was not onyour side tonight, because the doorbell rang that second, and your mother’sever-cheerful voice chimed through the house, “Steve’s here!”

You sighed, leaning your headagainst the wall. You weren’t only going to see him tonight, you were going tosee him in the tightest, most form-fitting, sexiestdress you had ever worn, heels, and more makeup than you would ever usuallywear. The dress wasn’t even that promiscuous by most standards, but themedium-sleeved blue lace top hugged your curves tightly, showing off your body,and the dress flared out just below the waist, making your boobs look bigger,your stomach flatter, and your waist smaller. You couldn’t believe your mom hadpicked it up on a whim that night for $5 while looking for a tie for Dustin.You looked and felt more beautiful than you ever had before. Your hair cascadedin perfectly done curls around your shoulders, and your silver make-up madeyour eyes shine, a glittery dusting of silver making you look magical as thelight rested on your collarbone.

“Y/N! Come on, Dustin’salready down here and I want pictures!”

You took a deep breath andstepped out into the hallway, not noticing Steve’s sharp intake of air when he caughta glimpse of you at the top of the steps.

With each step you took, Steve’sheart was racing faster and faster, his mouth dropping more and more. You wereabsolutely stunning.

Your mom clutched at her heart,exclaiming how beautiful her daughter was, but all Dustin noticed was the lookon Steve’s face and the blush on yours as you tried to avoid his gaze.

“Hey, Dusty!” you said with agrin. “Don’t you look handsome?” You adjusted his tie proudly. “All those girls’heads are gonna turn when they see you walk in. Especially with that hair, itadds an extra foot.” He smacked your arm, and both you and Steve laughed. “Wasthe hair his idea?” you laughed, pointing your thumb over at Steve, temporarilyforgetting all of the afternoon’s events.

“Yeah,” Dustin blushed.

“Well, you look way betterthan he does with it,” you said teasingly, to Steve’s dismay.

After a few pictures with youand Dustin, you, Dustin, and Steve, just you, just Dustin, and one very awkwardone with just you and Steve, a car honked outside.

“Sorry, Mom, that’s Nancy and Jonathan,”you said.

“Alright, honey, see you afterwards,”your mom said with a smile.

Steve looked over at you, surpriseand hurt in his eyes, his smile falling. “Wait, you’re not coming with Dustinand I?”

“I—I’m sorry, I just…” youtook a deep breath. “I gotta go, Steve. I’ll—I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And before he could sayanything else, you ran out the front door and jumped in the backseat of Nancy’scar, as Steve stood inside and watched it speed off.

After a minute of silence,Dustin looked up. “If we leave now, you can still get to the dance before Nancyand Jonathan. We have the shortcut back road they don’t know about.”

“Why would that matter,Dustin?”

“Because you need to get to mysister before she gets into the dance and win her over, damn it!”

 Steve’s car pulled into themiddle school parking lot and he turned to Dustin, who had a nervous look inhis eye as he looked in the doors at everyone dancing.

“Alright, so…we’re here. Justremember, when you get in there—”

“Pretend like I don’t care.”

“You don’t care.”

“I don’t care!”

“There you go, you’relearning, my friend.”

As Dustin reached up to pulldown the mirror, Steve turned to him.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“You look great, okay? Youlook great. You look great.”

“Great?”

“Great! Now, you’re gonna goin there—”

“Yeah!”

“Look like a million bucks—”

“Yeah!”

“And you’re gonna slay them.”

“Like a lion.” Your brotherlooked over at Steve with a sly look and attempted a cross between a tongueroll and a growl, making Steve shake his head.

“Yeah, uh, don’t do that,okay?”

“Alright,” Dustin noddedsolemnly.

Steve raised his hand andclasped it with Dustin’s before nodding. “Good luck.”

“You too.” At the look onSteve’s face, Dustin said, “It looks like Y/N just got here. Don’t screw up.”

And before Steve could sayanything else, Dustin hopped out of the car and walked over to his sister.Steve smiled as he saw Dustin’s mouth say something that looked like a “youlook great”. Those were the people he loved most in the world right there, you smilingthat beautiful smile of yours and Dustin grinning up at you, excited to go intohis first middle school dance. Before he knew it, the two of you began to walk,and while Dustin walked right in, being one of the last ones to arrive, youpaused at the bottom of the steps. You said something to Nancy and she gave youa sad smile and a comforting pat on the shoulder before she and Jonathan walkedin, leaving you standing on the bottom step alone.

Before his head even knew whathe was doing, Steve’s legs had pushed him out of the car, his arms slammed thedoor, and his beating heart was walking you over to the beautiful girl sittingdown on the steps of the middle school, staring at the sky and looking like shewas carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“Y/N?” he said softly.

Your eyes immediatelybrightened at the sound of his voice. You loved his voice, something you toldhim frequently. Nothing about it in particular, you just loved the way itsounded. Sometimes, you made him talk just so you could listen more intently totry to figure out what it was that you loved about his voice so specifically.But, you never found it. All you knew was that when he laughed or smiled while hespoke it was your favorite sound in the whole world.

“Steve? What are you doing here—”

“Y/N, I’ve never been more terrifiedof anything in my life than saying what I’m about to say, but I’ve held it infor a year and now I’m afraid I’ll never get another chance to say it again, soI’m just going to blurt it out now—I’m in love with you.” He didn’t notice yourwide eyes, or the tears gathering in them as you stood up and moved closer tohim. “I’m in love with your smile, your laugh, your voice, your personality,your eyes, and the way you make me feel when I’m around you. And even though Iknow, I know, that I could never doanything to make me deserve you, I just want you to know that—”

He was cut off by your lipsgently connecting with his, your hands intertwining in his hair as his arms instinctivelywrapped around your waist to pull you closer. The kiss was short, but as you pulledaway, the look in his eyes said it all.

“I’ve been head over heels foryou since you first picked up that stupid baseball bat a year ago and jumped infront of me to hit a Demogorgon into Ms. Byer’s dining table.”

“You…you really—”

The childlike grin spreadingacross his face was contagious as you buried your face in his sweater, gigglingagainst his chest. You felt his warm hand make its way to your face, his fingergently guiding your chin up so you were looking into his eyes that looked likethey had been melted into a soft, gooey chocolate. “I don’t think I’ve everbeen this happy in my life,” he whispered, the words making your heartdissolve.

You raised up onto yourtiptoes, pressing your lips against his again, but this time, when you parted,you rested your head on his chest, swaying back and forth to the music inside.

“You know, I should really goin there. Mr. Clarke’s gonna come out looking for me if we stay out here anylonger,” you said with a grin.

“I’d like to see him try.” Bothyou and Steve laughed, your voices filling the air.

“Do you want to come in withme? We were missing a chaperone, anyway. Then both of us can keep an eye onthose little shits in there.”

He grinned at you, his eyesfilled with adoration. “Sounds good to me.”

As you grabbed his hand and startedto pull him up the steps, you turned around and smiled at him, making his heartflutter. Everything he had wanted for the last year was finally right in front ofhim, and it was better than he ever thought it could be.