#and I am aware that he has a lot on his plate and usually he turns in things like we’re supposed to

[spacebell]

I like to consider myself as someone who is pretty understanding but there is a limit and I just found it

[pomefioredove]

If you don't mind, could you do for Flirty prompts event: "Trouble never looked so goddamn fine." with Riddle?

absolutely o7 I had a lot of fun with this one

summary: "trouble never looked so goddamn fine" type of post: short fic characters: riddle additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, maybe a little ooc, riddle being a repressed victorian LOL a part of this event

"Are you done yet?"

Riddle knows, logically, that you're only doing this to get on his nerves. No matter how he chides, shouts, threatens (and makes good of those threats), you keep coming back for more.

You flash him a big grin, strawberry staining your teeth red.

He grimaces. You either have a death wish, or you're stupid enough to think that he won't punish you.

"We're on a schedule," he says, though you're already well aware.

"The unbirthday party ended an hour ago. You can't possibly still be eating."

"And let this go to waste?" you gasp, pointing your fork at the last remaining slice of tart. "That would be rude, Housewarden."

You're clearly being sarcastic.

Death wish, it is.

"There is no rule about having to finish an entire tart by yourself," Riddle crosses his arms. "Let alone one about having to stay after an unbirthday party has ended for it."

You roll your eyes. Testing his patience once again.

"I didn't say it was a dorm rule. It's just common courtesy. I'm sure Trey will be flattered once he sees the entire plate licked clean."

Riddle shivers at the mental image of that. "That is wholly unnecessary,"

"Maybe if you help me finish, I'll be done faster," you hum.

It's a trap. He knows it is. But...

"If it will get you back to your room, so be it," he sighs, taking a seat beside you. "I suppose I have room for half a piece. Shall I c-"

He turns, and is met with a forkful of glistening strawberry, mere inches from his lips.

"What is this?"

"Tart,"

He sighs. "No, what are you doing?"

"Sharing, like we said,"

You address him as if it's the most normal thing in the world. Riddle narrows his eyes.

"I'm not eating off that. Your mouth was on it,"

You shrug, eyes brimming with barely-restrained mirth. "I cleaned it,"

And he's supposed to believe that? He crosses his arms, glaring, but you still don't back down.

You're nearly as stubborn as he is. After an agonizing eternity of staring, he closes the distance between himself and the tart, eating off your fork.

Only to be met with another piece.

"I am not a child. I can feed myself," he mutters. He can feel his face turning red, and not from anger.

"Sure, you can, but I bet this is much better, right?"

Riddle sighs, taking another sweet bite. He really shouldn't entertain you; he doesn't want you getting any ideas...

You hum, clearly pleased with his compliance, and then take bite off the same fork.

He pales. "That's disgusting,"

"I actually quite like this tart, thank you," you say merrily, talking through a mouthful of strawberry.

Such a clear disregard for table manners... It makes his heart skip a beat.

"That is clearly not what I meant. And I'm not having any more,"

You scoff. "What are you, five? Afraid of cooties?"

Riddle's face turns redder than the tart itself. He stammers pathetically for a moment, at a loss for his usual sharp words.

"I-I am not! It's unsanitary to share utensils!"

"Is that a rule?"

He simmers, crossing his arms again. "As you put it, it's just common courtesy,"

You draw another forkful up, letting it linger in front of your lips for a moment. "Fine, I'll leave..."

Your hesitance turns into mirth, and you point the tart towards his own mouth. "But... just one more bite."

Riddle scoffs, studying your expression. He hopes you're joking.

You're not.

He knows he really shouldn't indulge you. You're enough of a troublemaker as it is... but...

...He leans forward and takes the bite. Trouble never looked so goddamn fine.

[yamsfrecklvs]

i know that smoking is bad and gross and disgusting but i, unfortunately, am a smoker - so hear me out for a second. warning: a lil suggestive, shotgunning, reader is implied as an occasional smoker

kento nanami is a stressed man. his job is hard and he has to deal with, well… a lot.

for this reason, to try and relieve at least some stress, he picked up smoking. it’s not something he’s proud of. he finds it disgusting - he’s ashamed of it, even. he’s the kind of smoker that’s unguessable. he always smells clean, there’s no trace of the deep, strong smell of tobacco on his clothes, in his hair. he’s just so pristine.

so pristine, in fact, that when you two start dating you have absolutely no clue of this little vice of his. it’s the only secret he keeps from you: he doesn’t want you to judge him. and it’s not like he smokes a lot anyway. he usually indulges in a couple of cigarettes a day, nothing more.

but one day, when he kisses you as he picks you up in his car, you can tell he tastes different. there’s a new kind of flavor on his tongue, on his soft lips, and it’s so faint you almost don’t notice it. almost. but you recognize it, because you’re no stranger to smoking either, and when you pull away, you grin ever so slightly. you finally found a small flaw in your perfect man, and you want to tease him for it. but then, you decide to retreat. to find a better occasion to call him out and, who knows, maybe have a little fun with it too.

a couple of days later, you’re at his house, and he's just made love to you. you bask in the intimacy of the moment, his aftercare ever so thoughtful as he cleans you up and whispers soft praises in your ears, his lips brushing against your forehead to kiss it. after he's done taking care of you, he lies down next to you, his hand reaching for yours (and oh, he's such a sap, but you love it). that, you find, is the perfect moment to tease him. you crawl onto him and kiss his cheek, and when he turns to you with a shadow of a smile on his lips, you snicker.

"you know what i'd really like right now?" you ask, feigning innocence.

he hums in response, the back of his hand reaching to caress your cheek. "what, love?"

"a cigarette. i'd love a cigarette right now, ken."

his eyes widen at the weird, sudden request, his lips parting in surprise. he knows you all too well, and he's perfectly aware of the fact that you wouldn't have said that had you not known. he surrenders.

"you knew?"

"you tasted different the other day,” you explain, amused. “why didn't you tell me?"

he shrugs. "it's a bad habit."

"as if i would ever judge you."

he sighs, shaking his head before leaning over to his bedside table and opening the first drawer. "do you really want that?"

you shrug. "sure. give it to me. we can share."

he takes his cigarette pack, a lighter and an ashtray from that same drawer, places the small plate between the two of you as he pulls out a cigarette to hand it to you. you take it between your lips and look up at him as he lights it for you, and kento swears he's never seen anything sexier. you take a couple of drags, the smoke blowing from your lips and rising up in the half-lit room as kento watches you, mesmerized by your mere existence. you turn to him, and as your gazes meet, another idea crosses your mind.

you reach for him, your fingers grazing his mouth, which he opens immediately, almost as a reflex. you place your free hand on the side of his neck and lean in for a kiss, taking another drag of the cigarette instead. but as you get closer again, instead of kissing him, you gently blow the smoke into his mouth. and he drinks it in, the sharp smell of the cigarette burning mixed with your sweet scent, the way your subtle touch on his skin feels like it's burning him up alive. it drives him crazy - so much that, for a second, he loses his cool, grabbing you by the back of your head as his lips crash onto yours messily, hungrily. you can't believe how something as small as a little teasing has got him all worked up again, but you don't mind.

needless to say, the cigarette is quickly forgotten and put out in the ashtray.

the nicotine rush is nothing compared to you, after all.

@yamsfrecklvs

ash's note: lord forgive me i'm so weak for him ... also trust me shotgunning gets you a lot of game (source: me). i’m gonna go smoke a cigarette now

[multifictional]

Following there's a kind of plot and a blurb for the acotar story I mentioned. The idea has been in mind for so long and I finally wanted to give it a try!

In the long run it will have anti-feysand hints, and it’s an Eris and Lucien centred fic, so be aware. I am still debating if making the reader an oc.

Here we go..

[Y/N] Archeron always felt the pull of autumn, even as a human. The fallen leaves, the warm colours, the spicy sweets, even her birthday. For Elain, her sister, it was the sun and the way of feeding her gardens and flowers with its light.

Together in the Night Court after being thrown into the Cauldron, they both feel out of place. But while Elain has her growing bond with Lucien, [y/n] remains an outsider. With her powers still silents even after years, she feels a longing in herself she can’t quite place.

A mating bond with Eris, heir of the Autumn Court, is the last thing she expects at this point and also what she needed the most without even realising.

This is Prythian though and, even without a new villain after their heads, nothing is never easy as it seems. Especially not in a life where court rivalries seem to have their way of creating complications.

Yes, it will focused on both relationship (Eris with the reader and Elain with Lucien). It would also be set after ACOWAR with some elements of ACOSF implied (just Nesta giving up her powers to save Feyre’s family and accepting the mating bond).

As the plot says, there’s no new villain. I suck at writing all fantasy war storylines so I leave this to people who actually can write them better than me. This doesn’t mean this story won’t have plot twists or… other things. The focus will be mostly on relationships between characters, their inner turmoils and courts rivalry.

And a lot of spice, sorry not sorry. Not right away though, especially for Eris and the reader.

Keep reading if you are curious about the blurb!

Eris looked at the food you placed in front of him with a strange look on his face. It seemed as if you just slapped him, a mixture of confusion and wariness. It was as if the heir of the Autumn Court was surprised for once.

But then his mask came back.

You looked at him expectantly, heart beating fast. This was the moment of the truth, the moment where your wish could become a reality: that your new life as a Fae wasn't completely worth nothing. That, after all, you had finally found your ground. Your place in a world that was so foreign and so meant for you at the same time.

But then your expectation fell on you like a lighting strike, sending your heart from the top of your throat to the bottom of your feet. He pushed the plate towards you, refusing your offering.

“I can’t accept the bond,” he said calmly, with a coldness that was opposite to the fire running inside his veins. He was used to that. “I won’t.”

The hurt you felt in that moment was new for you. You felt the bond tugging at you in a painful way, a string threatening to broke. He felt it too, but he masked that feeling instantly, burying the need for you and cursing the timing in his mind. You blinked, refusing to let him see a single tear coming from you.

“W-what? W-why?” you stuttered. You had thought that someone like Eris wouldn’t wait a second too much to claim what was rightfully his, and yet, here you were, in front of his rejection. “I thought…”

“You thought wrong,” he bit out. “I can’t accept the food, not right now. Not until the throne is mine.”

So that was the problem? Becoming High Lord? You couldn’t quite believe that.

Eris saw the uncertainty and doubt in your eyes. Despite all his instincts were screaming at him to calm you down, he didn't do any of that. His cool demeanour usually wouldn't have fooled you so easily, but you were too taken aback to see the truth masked beneath his actions.

It was better this way.

Quite voices reached both of you. You turned to see Lucien and Elain approaching from the nearly forest, talking quietly. Eris, though, didn’t stop watching you.

He saw the flickering of longing as you watched his half-brother with your sister. That look almost crushed his usually so composed self control. So, with a single thought, he winnowed away, leaving behind the wind of autumn that always called out for you.

“Was Eris here?” Lucien asked, meeting your eyes. Elain approached you, already sensing something was off.

You were far too quick to put on a mask of your own, offering them a hint of smile. “Why would he? He’s too busy planning his head out to his next move to pass by.”

The bitterness in your tone was unmistakable.

“Want to train your power?” Lucien offered, thankfully changing subject.

You looked at you hands with a scowl then looked back at him. The thought of your power was unwelcome in your mind, especially after what happened.

“Another time,” without another word, you walked away, not giving them a second glance.

Lucien and Elain gave each other a knowing look, but didn’t press further. You heard their soft whispering, and even if envy was’t an emotion you ever allowed yourself to feel, with the sting of your mate’s rejection still clear in your soul, you couldn’t help but long for what they had.

With all of that being said, would anyone be interested in it? Should I continue??

[woozingie]

17:17

pairing: woozi x afab!reader genre: domestic fluff! word count: girl idk i wrote the whole thing on tumblr like a madwoman (again) content warning: mentions of sex, mentions of menstrual cycle, mentions of plans for BABIES, mentions of money management (shudders) lil note: i am currently coming down with yeonjunitis so i am fighting it off with little woozing stories in my head + i made raspberry choco cookies and vegan chocolate cake this afternoon and they're a banger so let's fight off yeonjunitis

"i made cookies," you announce with a single serving plate in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. it's not like woozi didn't hear or smell the cookies coming to life, but the sentence rolls off your tongue as you proudly present your boyfriend with his afternoon tea. he does not look up from the screen but his enthusiasm is sincere when he answers: "nice", he lets out, eyebrows still furrowed in concentration.

you go back to the kitchen to bring your own cup and plate and finally settle down at the dining table next to the busy man. it's nice to have him home, even if he is off doing his own thing. his presence, the little sounds he makes, talking to each other from one room to the other, giving him control of the sound system in the living room and suffering bruno mars on loop; in a relationship doomed to follow his strict rockstar schedule, the little pleasures are priceless. even sunday afternoons spent pouring over your household finances.

"how much was the stand mixer again?" woozi sighs. the look he gives you is half mental fatigue, half accusatory, so when his hand moves in the direction of his homemade cookie, you playfully give it a slap. "who cares, it's already profitable! if you eat from the stand mixer, you must respect the stand mixer." an eye roll and a smirk are the end of that could-have-been argument. "plus," you add, "aren't you like... proper rich? remind me why we're balancing the books when we could be playing video games? watching a movie? working out? having sex? ...napping?"

now you are casting doubt on the whole operation in jihoon's mind. he tentatively half-closes his laptop, stares at the steam coming out of his cup of tea before closing his eyes with a sigh. "everyone should keep up with their spending. if we want to buy a house, we need to be aware of how much we can afford to spend-"

"we could be napping? and/or having sex? remember?" you barely hold your laughter when jihoon closes his eyes and sighs again at your insistence. you know you are weakening his resolve. but this isn't your first time having this exact conversation, and he comes prepared. hot drink in hand, he argues: "what if we buy a house irresponsibly and there's no money left to have a baby? what if i need to keep working a lot to make enough money to pay for all the baby stuff? what's the point of having kids if i'm never there to see them and take care of them? where's the love in forcing you to be a stay at home mother?"

that usually is the point where you fold and take the receipts out of your purse. after seven years of perseverance, patience and devotion, your maternal instincts are getting out of hand and surprisingly, jihoon's apathy towards children has turned into the shy confession of a growing desire to turn your loving dynamic into a little nest for a brand new person. your fingers softly caress his empty hand, heart bursting at the thought of baby yous and baby jihoons running around. but your lover is unaware of your cycle overriding your rational brain this time around. "where's the love in counting money when we could be practicing baby making? my darling? my love? my genius composer? angel voice? and then have a cheeky nap after?" woozi's serious face falls as he laughs, his eyes forming perfect little crescents, the high-pitched sound of his laughter somehow only making your desire more urgent. it's funny the mundane things that turn you on once you know someone so well you've helped them get boogers out of their nostrils.

"yeah okay, i see where you're coming from," still amused, he feigns deep thought, eyebrows reaching for his hairline, pouting as if to say, 'impressive work'. he quickly bites the last of his cookie and gulps down his cup of tea as he stands up, holding the hand that was caressing his to invite you on your merry way to the bedroom.

"wait!" you stop him dead in his tracks. confused, he turns around and looks on as you reach for your phone on the table. "we need to set a timer, i've got a cake in the oven as well." he spits what's left of tea in his mouth and folds in the middle, holding his stomach with one arm: he is in stitches. it's your turn to feign emotion, and you choose outrage at his lack of trust in your financial decisions. "i told you we were making profits from this bloody stand mixer!"

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part twenty

summary: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: a lot of angst, mentions of mental health issues, time jump

author's note: good luck

It's been six months since you last saw Rafe Cameron.

The last conversation you both had was anything but pleasant, the words still stinging in your mind. The truth spilled out of you like a dam breaking, revealing the set-up against him that you and your friends had concocted. He pleaded for you to stay, his heart shattered into tiny pieces, and against your better judgement, you spent the night with him.

But as the sun rose and reality sank in, you knew it was best for you to leave before he woke up. You made a promise to give him space, hoping that he would come around on his own. But as days turned into weeks and then months, you never heard from him again.

Unable to face him at the golf course where he frequently visited, you quit your job there and found a new one at the Beach Club alongside JJ. The long hours and minimum wage were far from ideal, but it was enough to sustain you and JJ as you waited for your friends to return from hiding. In those moments, JJ became your lifeline - the only person who could make this unbearable situation even slightly bearable.

Each day seemed to drag on forever as you waited for that phone call from Rafe, hoping against all hope that he would forgive you and start fresh. But it never came. Slowly, a deep depression began to consume you as every day without him felt like a lifetime of agony. When you weren't working at the club, you locked yourself away in your room, trying to shut out the world and its painful reminders. Life lost its meaning as each day passed without any contact with Rafe. It felt like an endless cycle of loneliness and despair, an endless punishment for your foolish mistake.

"Hey there, how's it going, kid?" JJ inquires, coming up from behind with a pair of glass cups in each hand, interrupting your usual daydreaming routine. You straighten up your posture and forge a smile his way, watching as he scurried around the kitchen.

"Doing alright," you reply with a semi-flat tone, still somewhat detached from reality. "Is it a large gathering or something?" You motion towards the numerous cups he tossed into the sink, remnants of beer and liquor leaving their mark at the bottom.

"It was a damn party with sixteen people," he huffs, blowing loose strands of his blond hair out of his face. "Kids, parents, the whole shebang. It was a complete disaster."

You chuckle at his remark, shaking your head. "You'll have that, I guess."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't get much sleep last night, that's all." You keep your statement brief, hoping to sidestep any further scrutiny from JJ, who has a knack for probing. You're aware that his concern stems from witnessing your gradual downturn since the breakup with Rafe. Every agonizing night, he'd pass by your room in the hallway, hearing the stifled sobs, mistakenly thinking you were keeping it quiet.

The sound of clanging dishes fills the air as Sofia, your coworker, enters the kitchen. She balances a stack of dirty plates in her arms and greets you and JJ with a wide smile. Her eyes sparkle mischievously as she poses her question, "Hey guys, am I missing out on some gossip in here?"

You shake your head, amused by JJ's usual grumblings about customers, "Not much besides JJ venting."

Sofia playfully rolls her eyes and lets out a giggle at JJ's never-ending frustration with their clientele. But then her expression turns more serious as she shares her news, "But hey, I wanted to let you guys know there's gonna be a huge bonfire at the boneyard tonight. You should come."

You hesitate, unsure if attending such an event is your thing. "We'll be there," JJ interjects confidently, nudging your side with his elbow.

You turn to him with a shocked expression, surprised that he would answer for both of you without consulting you first. But JJ just looks back at you with a smug grin, knowing that you would have declined the invitation if given the chance. After all, spending your nights locked away in your room was your preferred way to unwind after a shift.

"Great! I'll see you guys later then," Sofia beams at JJ's agreement before leaving the kitchen and heading back to the dining area. "Really, JJ? You know those kinds of events aren't my thing," you scowl at him, crossing your arms over your chest. If looks could kill, JJ would be dead by now.

"Well they used to your thing," JJ retorts, his tone firm but laced with concern. "You used to love going out, having fun, being around people. It's been months since...well, since everything happened with Rafe. And honestly, I'm worried about you. You've been shutting yourself off from the world, and it's not healthy."

You stare at him for a moment, his words sinking in. Despite your initial annoyance at his presumptuousness, you can't deny that he has a point. Since the fallout with Rafe, you've become a shell of your former self, hiding away from any social interaction and drowning in your own sorrow. As much as you hate to admit it, JJ is right – you need to start living again.

"Fine," you finally concede, sighing heavily. "I'll go to the bonfire tonight."

JJ's face breaks into a wide grin, relief evident in his eyes. "That's the spirit! Trust me, you'll have a good time. And who knows, maybe it'll help take your mind off things for a little while."

You can't help but feel a flicker of hope ignite deep within you. Maybe JJ is right. Maybe getting out and being around people again will help you heal, even if just a little bit. You try to push away the thoughts of Rafe that immediately flood your mind, but they still linger, like an unwanted guest overstaying their welcome.

As the day wears on, you find yourself in a state of nervous anticipation. You carefully pick out an outfit that strikes the delicate balance between casual and put-together, not wanting to draw too much attention but also wanting to feel good about yourself. When evening falls and the sky is painted with hues of orange and pink, you make your way out to the boneyard.

The beach is alive with activity as people gather around the roaring bonfire. The sound of laughter and music fills the air, and you can feel the vibrant energy pulsating through the crowd. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and step into the midst of the festivities.

JJ appears by your side, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Ready for some fun?" he asks, his voice barely audible above the clamor of voices and music.

You nod, summoning all your courage. "Yeah, let's do this."

As you navigate through the throng of people, you catch glimpses of familiar faces from work and around town. Sofia waves at you from a group near the fire, her smile infectious. You offer her a wave in return, grateful for her invitation tonight.

As you approach the fire, the heat washes over you, and you feel its warmth seep into your bones. The crackling of the flames is hypnotic, luring you closer like a moth to a flame. You find yourself drawn to the dancing shadows that flicker against the night sky.

JJ leads you to a group of people gathered around a makeshift bar not too far from the fire. The air is thick with laughter and conversation, and the scent of toasted marshmallows mingles with the salty sea breeze. You feel a sense of belonging in this moment, as if the weight upon your shoulders is slowly being lifted.

Sofia greets you with a hug, her cheerful demeanor contagious. "I'm so glad you made it. We were starting to think you might bail!"

You laugh nervously, feeling a surge of gratitude for these people who have accepted you into their circle without question. "No chance of that now," you reply, trying to match Sofia's energy.

As the night unfolds, Sofia guides you through the lively crowd, introducing you to various friends and acquaintances. The beach is bathed in the warm glow of the bonfire, and the sound of laughter and music fills the air. You start to feel a sense of belonging, appreciating the distraction from the weight of your thoughts.

Sofia eventually leads you towards a group of people gathered near a makeshift bar. The atmosphere here is electric, with the scent of salty sea breeze mingling with the aroma of toasted marshmallows. You watch as a skilled bartender whips up drinks, and the chatter around the bar is animated.

As Sofia continues with introductions, you exchange pleasantries with the friendly faces around you. The nervous anticipation begins to ease, replaced by a growing sense of enjoyment in the company of these new friends.

Suddenly, Sofia mentions that she wants to introduce you to her close-knit group of friends, and she guides you through the crowd towards a more secluded area. The noise from the bonfire and the distant waves becomes a distant hum as you navigate through the lively gathering.

Sofia's friends are engaged in conversation, their laughter punctuating the night air. You offer polite smiles as Sofia introduces you to each person in the group—Topper, Kelce, and then, the name that makes your heart skip a beat, Rafe.

The moment your eyes lock onto Rafe's, a wave of emotions crashes over you. His appearance, altered since the last time you saw him, is evident in the buzzcut that replaces his once unruly hair. His eyes, once filled with a youthful spark, now carry the weight of experiences and challenges. They appear more mature but also worn down, leaving you to wonder if the breakup and its aftermath have taken a toll on him.

Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing the unresolved feelings and unspoken words between you two. The unrelenting gaze he holds sends shivers down your spine, a mixture of nostalgia and regret flooding your senses. It's as if time stands still, encapsulating the raw essence of the moment and the complex emotions entwined in your shared history.

Sofia, oblivious to the sudden shift in atmosphere, continues with the introductions. "This is Y/N, she works with me at the Beach Club. Y/N, meet Topper, Kelce, and, of course, Rafe."

You offer a polite smile, trying to maintain composure despite the tension emanating from Rafe. The silence stretches, and the unspoken words hang heavily in the air. Rafe remains silent, his intense gaze locked onto yours. The once-familiar connection now carries an undeniable weight, and the emotions between you are palpable. The distance between you and Rafe feels both vast and intimate, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the air. His silence speaks volumes, and the unspoken dialogue between you becomes a poignant narrative of the time that has passed.

The sight of Sofia walking up beside Rafe, followed by his embrace, sends a sinking feeling straight to your heart. A knot tightens in your stomach as you watch the two of them, and Sofia's words hit you like a sudden storm. "Y/N, meet my boyfriend, Rafe," she says, her voice filled with happiness.

Shock sets in, and your world seems to tilt on its axis. The revelation that Rafe, the person you once shared everything with, has found solace and companionship with Sofia creates a sense of nausea. The emotions swirling within you are a tumultuous mix of disbelief, betrayal, and a deep ache that seems to resonate with each beat of your heart.

Your gaze remains fixed on them, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before you. The bonfire's glow casts a surreal light on the trio, emphasizing the complexity of the situation. Questions flood your mind, and you find yourself grappling with the harsh reality of Rafe moving on while you're still entangled in the aftermath.

With a flat tone, you manage to say, "We've met before," acknowledging the shared history that once connected you and Rafe. The air grows heavy, and his jaw clenches even tighter, creating an unspoken tension that hangs between you two. The weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions lingers in the air, creating an atmosphere thick with discomfort and uncertainty.

Sofia looks between you and Rafe, sensing the tension but not fully understanding the depth of your past connection. She decides to change the subject, suggesting that you all grab drinks and join the group by the bonfire. The invitation hangs in the air, leaving you with a choice to make – whether to navigate the night alongside Rafe and Sofia or find a way to retreat from the situation.

Despite the internal turmoil, you manage a strained smile, agreeing to join the larger group. The trio makes their way toward the makeshift bar, where you can't help but feel Rafe's eyes on you. The silence between you is deafening, each step echoing with the weight of unspoken history.

As you reach the bar, Sofia engages in casual banter with the bartender, leaving you and Rafe standing side by side. The awkwardness is palpable, a silent conversation unfolding between stolen glances and lingering tension. The air becomes charged with the ghosts of memories – the shared laughter, the whispered confessions, and the painful parting words.

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the discomfort, a familiar one calling out to Sofia. She excuses herself, leaving you and Rafe alone for the first time since your worlds shattered. The seconds stretch into an eternity as you both avoid direct eye contact.

Finally, Rafe breaks the silence. His voice is low, tinged with a hint of regret. "It's been awhile."

Rafe's comment about the passage of time lingers in the air, a subtle acknowledgment of the distance that has grown between you. You keep your gaze fixed on the ground, finding it too painful to meet his eyes. The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy between you.

"Yeah," you murmur, your voice barely audible over the surrounding noise. "It has been a while."

A heavy pause follows, filled with the unspoken truth of your separation. The mention of time only serves to underscore the absence of communication, the unanswered questions, and the silence that has defined these months of solitude.

"You never called," you say, your words tinged with a mixture of hurt and frustration. The memories of that night resurface, the promises unfulfilled, and the subsequent silence that followed. The pain of that unanswered call echoes in your voice, a testament to the unresolved emotions that have lingered for far too long.

Rafe's jaw tightens as he absorbs your words. The unspoken tension in the air seems to thicken, heavy with the weight of unaddressed issues. The crowd around you continues to buzz with life, oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you and Rafe. It's a moment suspended in time, caught between the past and the present, with the possibility of either reconciliation or further divergence.

Rafe's silence lingers for a moment, and just as the tension becomes almost unbearable, Sofia reappears at his side, seemingly oblivious to the underlying dynamics. She takes hold of Rafe's arm and playfully insists he joins her in the revelry. He glances back at you, his expression a mix of regret and something else you can't quite decipher.

"See you around, Y/n," Rafe says in a voice that carries a tinge of sadness before he's gently pulled away into the crowd by Sofia. The moment hangs in the air as he disappears, leaving you with a whirlwind of emotions. The reality of seeing Rafe after all these months hits you, and the weight of the encounter settles heavily on your shoulders. The bonfire blazes on, the crackling flames providing an ironic backdrop to the unspoken turmoil within.

The air is thick with a mix of emotions as you hastily navigate through the crowd, the tears in your eyes threatening to spill over. The vibrant atmosphere around you is now a blur as you search desperately for JJ, the only anchor in this sea of turmoil. Your heart pounds with a sense of urgency, the need to escape the situation becoming more palpable with each passing second.

Finally spotting JJ near the makeshift bar, you approach him with a sense of desperation. His eyes widen in concern as he takes in your tear-strained face. "Hey, what happened?" he asks, his voice a soothing anchor in the midst of chaos.

You grab his arm, almost pulling him away from the crowd. "We need to leave, JJ. Now," you implore, your voice choked with emotion. He doesn't ask questions, simply nodding and following your lead. The two of you slip away from the bonfire, leaving behind the flickering flames and the haunting specter of a past you weren't ready to face.

As you retreat from the beach, the distant sounds of laughter and music fade into the background. The cool night air offers a temporary reprieve from the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume you. JJ walks silently beside you, giving you the space to process whatever had transpired.

As you and JJ continue to walk away from the beach, the words tumble out of your mouth in a shaky confession. "He's dating Sofia," you manage to say, the weight of the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. Before you know it, the tears you've been holding back begin to stream down your face.

JJ's eyes soften with understanding, and without a word, he wraps his arms around you in a comforting embrace. The sobs escape from deep within you, each one carrying the pain of witnessing the person you once loved move on with someone else.

You let the waves of emotion crash over you, leaning into JJ's support. His presence is a balm, a reminder that you're not alone in this difficult moment. The two of you stand there, the night air filled with the sound of your quiet sobs and the distant echoes of the beach party you've left behind.

In that vulnerable moment, JJ remains a steady anchor, offering solace without the need for words. The weight of heartbreak is momentarily eased by the warmth of his embrace, and for now, you find comfort in the friendship that has become your lifeline.

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d, @givemylovetoall

[drabblesandimagines]

Dove (part three)

Leon Kennedy x female reader Part one. Part two. Warnings: Things get a bit gory in a flashback, description of panic attack.

“Anything will be great. We’ll take it slow. You ready?”

You’re not, but you doubt you ever will be.

“Ready.”

Leon taps twice on the laptop’s trackpad and it emits a beep, signaling the recording has begun, before he leans back, places his hands on his thighs and smiles. He has a nice smile, it’s reaching his eyes and you try and focus on that and not the sick feeling that’s growing in your stomach. “So, let’s go from the top. Yesterday morning…” You feel yourself inhale sharply. “..alarm goes off, or are you a natural riser?”

You weren’t expecting that to be the first question.

“I… I have an alarm.”

“What time did it go off?”

“I set it for 0630. And I got out of bed right away, otherwise I linger and then I’m late.” If only you knew what was to come you would’ve stayed in bed all day - covers pulled up and over your head.

“Then what did you do?”

“I had a shower, then I got dressed – in what you saw me in.” You hesitate - does he need that much detail, or was that too obvious and waste his time? You wait another beat, in case he wants to say anything, dismiss it from the record, but Leon just sits there there, hands resting on his thighs, looking at you, encouragingly, to continue. You press your nails into the palm of your hand, trying to concentrate. “Then I made a coffee to take with me on the walk to the office. I… I like to get there for 0745.”

“No breakfast?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Sorry. I made a slice of toast, ate it while I was waiting for the coffee to brew.” You remember leaning up against your kitchen counter to eat it – you hadn’t even got a plate out the cupboard, just buttered it on the chopping board, left the knife in the sink to wash up later… Is there going to be a later? You dig your nails into palm again, hard enough to leave indents. “Sometimes I’ll get a bagel from this cart near work, if that matters.” It probably doesn’t, but you want to stop thinking about home.

“And do you walk to the office every day?”

“No – weather dependent. I mean, there’s a bus I can take. There’s just a lot of traffic and so many stops that I found it takes the same amount of time to ride that as walk, so I get that if it’s too cold or wet. Listen to music, usually.”

“Okay, good.” He’s laying on the praise a little thick, but you accept it gratefully all the same, along with his smile. “Doing really good. So, you walked to work. Anything unusual you remember from on the way there?”

“No. Just the same walk, really. I’m pretty good at the whole awareness of my surroundings cos of the job, so…”

“Of course,” he nods. “And you got in the office at 0745?”

“Erm… Probably not precisely 0745.” You scan in through a turnstile, don’t wanna say you got in at a specific time in case it comes back to haunt you. “And I don’t need to be clocked on until 0800, but I had time to made another coffee in the breakroom before I logged on to my terminal, so probably between 0745 and 0800.”

“And are there turnstiles or a security check when you enter?” Had he read your mind? No, he probably has it noted down to cross-check your story.

“Yeah – bag searched, walk through the metal detector, then there’s a turnstile I have to scan in at.” Like any of those protocols had stopped whatever or whoever it was who had got inside.

“Okay, good. Headed to the breakroom, then from there to your terminal, and no other stops, no colleague interruptions?”

“Er… Yeah, one.” You swallow, her face flashing across your mind. “Am I allowed to use their name?”

Leon nods.

“Clara was in the breakroom when I got there, making a coffee. She had a date the night before – I asked her how it went.”

“Okay. Do you know what the date’s name was?”

“No. She’d just mentioned it the day before, though. We were leaving at the same time and she was excited about it, so I thought I’d ask. He’d been really dull at dinner apparently. She didn’t think she’d bother seeing him again.”

And no-one will be seeing her ever again either, your brain so helpfully reminds you.

“Okay. So, you’ve made it to the office, made your coffee, spoke to Clara, sat down at the terminal… What’s that, exactly?”

“It’s a computer, basically. All linked in to the main server, sit in like half cubicles. The screens have these hoods on, so no-one can see what you’re looking at unless they’re in the seat. They’re called terminals on all the internal documents.”

“Right, got you. What’s a usual work day for you? Did yesterday’s seem any different?”

“Do you know much about the surveillance department?”

Leon shakes his head. “I know you’re an intel source.”

“Yeah, that’s about it. Individuals get marked for surveillance from email scans or phone calls, travel plans, receipts, CCTV – it can be just be a word that flags them up or someone makes a tip-off, then we conduct investigations to see whether they’re involved in bioterrorism. So, I log on and open my assigned cases. We rotate every day and there’s always a few you can dismiss immediately because it’s flagged up erroneously. Some, there’s already previous analysis done, so you go through the notes and then check if there’s been any activity or correspondence logged overnight. If there hasn’t been on those cases, I open up a new case – rinse and repeat. It’ll give me a notification on the system if there’s activity on any of my pre-allocated cases, so I switch between as activity starts and stops.”

“Huh,” he muses. “How do you pick up a new case – just see what takes your fancy?”

“No,” you shake your head. “They’re random. You click a button and the system assigns you one. They change the code every week of how it does it.”

“Why’s it random?”

“Er, in case anyone is… trying to protect someone, I guess? Or being blackmailed into, like, closing a case.”

“I see. And nothing out of the ordinary all morning?”

“No. I… I had one case that had had a lot of email activity overnight, so I went through that. Then I submitted a couple of reports advising three… or maybe four cases be closed - I can’t remember exactly - but it’s not unusual to advise closing cases as people get flagged up all the time.”

“Yeah, all make sense. Did you get a break?”

“Yeah, I had a break at 1300 to 1330. I brought in a boxed lunch…” You didn’t mention that earlier, did you? “I made it the night before – not in the morning. I grabbed it out of the fridge before I left my apartment.”

“It’s all right, Dove.” Leon soothes. “I’m not expecting you to remember every finite detail – you’re doing really well.”

You nod, a little shakily. “I ate it in the breakroom. A couple of my colleagues popped in and out, but no-one sat with me that day. I made a coffee and went back to my terminal.”

“Okay.” He nods, leaning forward then and squinting a little at something on the laptop screen. “So, 1442 is when the power was cut to the building. Where were you when that happened?”

“I had an active call that I was listening in on, it hadn’t been going on very long. And then…” You fix your stare on the coffee table then – you don’t want to look at Leon’s face anymore, those sympathetic blue eyes. “..everything went dark. There was about 15 seconds before the emergency lighting came on, or it should’ve been. We have drills every so often, and it’s meant to be quick, but only enough to light the path to the fire exits, you know? But it looked like the back-up generator was coming on too, because I’m sure I saw the terminal screen reboot a second.”

“And you didn’t hear anyone say anything?”

“I think it was quiet, I don’t know if anyone said anything, but there wasn’t an alarm to evacuate. I had my headphones on still as I thought when the terminal reboots, I’ll just get straight back into the call if it was still going after I logged in because they’ll be annoyed if we all left unnecessarily, you know?” Your eyes are still fixed on the coffee table, so you don’t know if he nods or not. “But then…” You wonder if your nails will pierce through the skin of your palm this time with how hard you're pressing. “Then I heard this scream and… And…”

You let out a shuddering breath, hearing the scream echoing around in your mind.

“It’s all right, Dove,” Leon reaches out a hand but stops himself, leaving it hovering awkwardly over your knee. “Here,” he leans forward instead, picks up the glass. “Have some water, okay?”

You take the glass, not even able to say thank you, and put it up to your lips, but it clinks against your teeth, feels too cold sliding down your throat and into your stomach.

He takes the glass back from you as you lower it from your lips, placing it down on the table gently, and waits. He doesn’t press, he doesn’t smile, just waits.

You exhale, close your eyes – you’re not sure if it makes it worse.

“I… I took my headphones off and I… I couldn’t work out what it was. It didn’t sound human – something guttural. I think I heard someone swear, and more screams, but those were human. I-I got up from my chair, stepped out and looked down the hall and… there was this thing, like…” You search for the words, but not for too long. “Sorry, I don’t how to describe it.”

“That’s all right. We’ve got them on the CCTV.”

“But it had... someone in its mouth. And I should know who it was, because I’ve worked with these people for so long, but it h-had their head in its mouth. How could I not know?” Your voice breaks.

“Dove,” Leon starts, gently, “I think we should take a break.”

You shake your head, determined to get it over with. “It shook its head, like a dog shakes a toy, but it bit down and… I don’t know if I blacked it out because I don’t remember how I got there, but I was on the ground, like something had knocked me down and… someone was on top of me.”

“I am so sorry.”

“There were more and more screams and sounds I can’t describe - from all around – and everywhere I looked there just seemed another one of those things, clambering over cubicles with these awful, long tongues, snapping around limbs and, like, ricocheting people back. I got up and ran but there was blood in my eyes and I don’t know if it was mine or someone else’s, but I didn’t get far because this horrible wet thing wrapped around my arm and I got thrown into the wall or something else hard. My arm went limp – I think that’s when it dislocated my shoulder and maybe that confused it because it let go? I don’t know why it would let go when it didn’t for anyone else and… I… The stairs…”

And that’s it, your resolve has cracked and sobs erupt from deep within your chest, your whole body shaking, your vision obscured with hot tears and you can’t breathe with the grief.

There’s a beep – Leon’s frantically stopped the laptop recording, and then he’s sat right next to you, taking your good hand in his and squeezing it.

“I need you to breathe, okay? It’s going to seem hard, but I know you can do it, Dove. We’re going to breathe in through the nose for four, hold that breath in our lungs for another four, and then we’re going to exhale through our mouths for four. Okay? I’m gonna keep count with a squeeze of your hand, close your eyes if you want, I just really need you to breathe.”

You nod, sobs instead of breaths, and it feels impossible as Leon begins squeezing your hand in rounds of four. It’s poor at best, not inhaling enough, breaths still cut short as you cry, but he persists, round after round until, finally, you feel the air is finally reaching the bottom of your lungs, crying reduced to sniffles – feeling exhausted.

“I should’ve stopped you – realized you needed a break.” He stops squeezing your hand but he doesn’t let go.

“No,” your voice still feels tight. “I wanted it over with. Is that selfish?”

“Not at all.” Leon replies quickly, firmly, before his tone softens. “I know this a dumb question before I even ask, but is there anything I can do for you right now, or get you?”

“Can I have a hug?” You ask, quietly - a fleeting thought of that surely would be against protocol, but you need something grounding.

“Of course.” His arms wrap around you – strong, solid, warm arms, mindful of your shoulder, pressing you into his chest and the scent of the strawberry bodywash. You can hear his heartbeat as you press your face into him.

Leon doesn’t speak, doesn’t move either, just keeps holding you close. Hell, he needed a hug after Raccoon City, he’d just never got the guts to ask Claire for one. Not in front of Sherry anyway, and no-one was gonna hug him when he got sent off to military training.

He doesn’t know how long you’ve sat like that, but he is aware as you grow limp against his chest, falling into an emotionally exhausted sleep. He knows it’s not proper for him to be doing this with you, the DSO asset he’s meant to be protecting, but from past experience, he knows you won’t be asleep long and what the DSO doesn’t know can’t hurt them.

Speaking of, he thinks, leaning against the back of the sofa and tilting you gently down with him, he slips a hand into his pocket for his phone and types a quick message.

Interview concluded. Will have timeline of incident and report sent by 2000. Summary - experiencing survivor's guilt, not a suspect.

--

Part four.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day! PS: I'm sorry if this was extremely boring but hopefully some nice fluff in there for you at the end x

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"So your sister will be coming by next week with the little ones," your mother declares as you stand at the sink, scrubbing away the remnants of roast beef and potato. "You'll get to play auntie for the day."

"Mhmm," you nod, "what about Justin?"

"Oh, your brother's down visiting with his fiance's family. He said he'd try to make if for Christmas Eve but you know how her family is."

You sniff and pretend to know. You really don't. It's all hearsay to you. You don't hear much from either siblings; they have lives, you just happen to be related.

"S-sounds great," you utter as you put another plate in the rack.

"Oh, honey, you should just use the dishwasher," she says.

"It's f-f-fine, this works," you insist.

"Well, what about you? What are you up to?" She leans on the counter.

"I..." you don't know what to say. You need a lie, anything to appease her. Your brother's engaged, your sister has the white picket fence and you have nothing, "oh, I h-have a job interview."

"You do?" She sounds thoroughly disbelieving.

"Uh, yeah, w-well," you stammer through, trying not to give away your deceit, "since n-no one wants to h-hire me in my f-field, I f-found something new."

"That's exciting," she chimes, "what is it?"

"Uh, I w-want to see i-if it turns out b-before I say," you give a tight-lipped smile, "don't want to d-disappoint you again."

"Sweetie, you're not a disappointment," she hums, "I'm always happy to see you trying."

You look down at the sink and shrug. Behind that comment is the inference that you weren't trying before. That you haven't been. The long nights with vivid nightmares don't exactly motivate you and you've been all but blacklisted as an executive assistant. Even admin roles aren't responding. Even if you do get a bite, the job market is drawn out and tedious.

"Thanks, mom."

"Just... try not to mope around the kids," she chides, "it's Christmas."

You flutter your lashes, "sure, mom."

That's what you are to everyone; weak, pathetic, useless. No, don't do that. You'll make another appointment with Lisa, she always knows what to do.

☕️

Well, this is it. A last resort. One of those freelancing websites that pays pennies. It's better than nothing and will keep you from having too big a gap on your resume. You could easily do the writing gigs, easy money for transcription. You apply to a few of those and scroll on.

You sit up as you see a particular posting that interest you. Oddly enough, the pay isn't half bad. It's also labeled as 'may lead to ongoing work'. Well, well, well, now that's something.

You click into the posting for 'Podcast Script Writer' and review the details. A sample is required for application and lucky enough, you have lots of those hanging around. If it wasn't for your stammer, you'd have an episode done by now. You deleted enough recordings to the point of giving up. Well, this is a solution. You can get your work out there without having to embarrass yourself.

You go through the application, putting in your info and editing a draft before attaching it to the application. You just hope it's thorough enough. You never really let anyone else see and hitting submit makes your stomach flip. With the final click, you close your laptop and quickly get up. Alright, you're not going to dwell on it. If you hear anything, you'll worry then.

You try to read but can't focus. It just makes you think of the posting and your application. Oh jeez, imagine you're rejected but worse, they tell you you've done everything wrong.

Appointment! You can't forget that. You login to the app and put in a request for a Zoom appointment that week. Alright, you're getting things done, you can't say you've done nothing.

You put a video on your phone and lean it on the pop out grip, propping it up on your mattress to watch the compilation of sitcom moments cut together on Youtube. Your mind wanders and your eyes begin to sag as the day shrouds you in fatigue. You slip into a shallow doze as the glare of the screen flickers over you.

The distant clack of keyboards and clicking of mouses needles behind your ears. It's as if you're trapped in a bubble of silence, all colours and noised dampened by the unseen wall. You shudder as you hear his voice, the only thing that's clear. Your name crawls up behind the shell of your ear with his breath as his hands settle on your hips. Your body aches as every muscles tightens and your bones lock in place. Please, no, not again...

"Sir..." you try to speak but nothing comes out. He's always tugging your skirt up, his hand is around your throat. You close your eyes as tears stain your cheeks.

You wake with a start, your phone black as the battery's drained from neglect. You sit up and pant, looking around your dark bedroom, the moonlight limning shadows sinisterly. You gulp and fall back, watching the ceiling as the tears rise in reality and sting your eyes.

If you'd just said no. A simple word. Even you can manage that.

You lay for a while until your restlessness boils over. You get up and plug in your phone. The screen lights up as you rub your eye socket and yawn. There's an email notification in the taskbar. Probably more ads for things you can't afford.

You pull down the menu but find ‘Application Update’ emblazoned across the notification. Oh wow, that was fast. You keep yourself from tapping on the email.

You don't know if you can handle another rejection. You'd rather languish in the uncertainty. You've been doing so for so long, it almost feels safe.

[flippyspoon]

Chocolate Donut with Rainbow Sprinkles

Note: SNW Spirk drabble :). For some reason this has been in my head for the longest time lol.

Jim woke up feeling no better than he had the day before. It was only two days beyond the anniversary of the Farragut’s catastrophic encounter with the cloud creature from Tycho IV and he had not been himself for a week. First, because he was anticipating the anniversary. On the day of the anniversary he was reasonably sure he had not spoken a single word. Now not two days had passed and he felt marginally better after reaching out to the families of some of the dead crewmen he had known best. But he was still feeling it, and though he was adept at compartmentalizing and finding solace in his work, Jim felt like the bottom of a boot. Still, he dragged himself to the mess for breakfast and sat up straight as he drank his coffee for breakfast, since nothing looked appetizing enough to eat.

So he was surprised and slightly perturbed when Mr. Spock sat down in front of him. Spock was carrying a tray with a plate, a covered dish, and a cup of tea on it. He set down the plate bearing his own breakfast of some grain Kirk was unfamiliar with and berries. But he set the small covered dish in front of Jim as if Jim might be expecting it.

“Mr. Spock,” Jim said flatly.

“Lieutenant.” Spock nodded. “Good morning. “Good morning. Uh… what’s this?” He racked his brain, wondering if, in the relative stupor he’d been in for the past few days, he’d made some agreement to have breakfast with Spock. Was there a reason he should be expecting a covered dish?

He hardly knew Spock. Yet he liked Spock. He felt an odd kind of magnetic pull around Spock and put it aside…accepting the occasional fantasy when he was alone in bed late at night.

Spock did not start eating. He folded his hands and did not meet Jim’s eyes, instead looking down at the table. “For the past six-point-seven days, I have noticed that you have been acting unlike your usual self. While on the bridge you have spoken, on average, fity-seven percent less than usual. You are one of those humans who is, as the saying goes, easy with a smile. Yet I have not witnessed you smiling once in the last week. And you have not laughed. I… I have found myself concerned as to your well being. After speaking to your brother-”

“Sam,” Jim muttered, rolling his eyes.

“After speaking to your brother,” Spock went on, “I learned that two days ago marked the anniversary of…” He met Jim’s eyes and perhaps seeing Jim’s subtle reaction of dread, stopped himself. He swallowed. “I am aware that you are perhaps marking the anniversary of a great tragedy. I desired to…assist you in some way. That is, I wished to make you feel better. If possible.”

Jim blinked at him and felt a great and welcome warmth come over him. “Oh. That’s exceedingly kind of you. But-”

“I am not asking you to talk about the events of Tycho IV,” Spock said quietly. 

“Good.” Jim relaxed and emitted something close to a chuckle. “I’ve actually talked about it a lot. Just…not with anyone on this ship.” Spock looked at him with interest.

“I understand.” Spock reached out and lifted the cover off the dish in front of Jim. “I only wished to give you this.”

A pink frosted chocolate donut covered in rainbow sprinkles sat on the little plate and instantly Jim was transported. Bobby’s Donuts in Riverside, Iowa. It was actually a full bakery and it had been Jim’s favorite place to relax after school (with the exception of the barn back at home). This was his favorite concoction and one of Bobby’s simpler offerings. Fresh baked chocolate donuts with pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles. He had not eaten one since…since just after Tarsus IV probably.

“I once heard you speaking of your fondness for this delicacy to Nurse Chapel,” Spock said. “This is not a synthesized item. I…” Spock sat up even straighter. “I made it personally. Captain Pike assisted me.”

“You made me a donut?” Jim stared at him. “You made me a donut?”

Spock looked back at him. Jim knew little about the anatomical properties of Vulcan, but he was pretty sure Spock was blushing, the olive tones of his cheeks darkening subtly. “I am given to understand that humans often enjoy baked goods or sweets as a form of comfort.”

“We certainly do,” Jim muttered. “I just… I don’t know what to say.”

“Perhaps you should try it before you say anything,” Spock said.

“Yeah.” Jim picked up the donut and the corners of his lips quirked up when he felt that it was still slightly warm. He took a large bite and the chocolatey fried dough, not overly sweet frosting, and slight crunch of sprinkles instantly transported him to his child self. He was ten years-old, content in a booth at Bobby’s Donuts, reading about the achievements of Captain Jonathan Archer and distantly hoping his father was safe wherever he was. All that, and at the same time, across the table, he met Spock’s eyes and felt consumed with the urge to throw his arms around the Enterprise’s science officer. Perhaps later.

Jim swallowed the first bite and his mouth twitched before he finally said, “Spock. It’s… it’s perfect.” He could not contain the smile that burst across his face. “Thank you. I… Spock, I think this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me in a while.”

Spock all but glowed, relaxing slightly in his seat. He raised his head and a subtle expression of satisfaction came over him. “I am pleased.”

Jim took a sip of coffee and couldn’t help moaning slightly at the juxtaposition. Spock’s eyes flashed and he looked down at the table.  

At Starfleet Academy he’d begun drinking coffee. He’d found donuts (that were not as good as Bobby’s but still pretty good) at a spot a few blocks off campus. Studying warp core relays, chomping on donuts, sipping coffee…

“This is the best I’ve felt in weeks,” Jim said softly. 

He wanted to say more. That it was not entirely about the donut. That something inside him had snapped to attention upon meeting Mr. Spock already, and maybe now he knew why.

Spock finally dug into his breakfast and he’d taken several bites as they sat there in contented silence before he said, “That is all I desired.”

[edupunkn00b]

Roomies, Ch. 4: The Gladiator

Prev - The Gladiator - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3548 - Rated: T - CW: swearing as always, suggestive, making out, very brief physical altercation - Written for @intrualityweek 2024, Plushies/Stuffies

Logan makes an observation. Oh, and did you know that The Gladiator 2 is coming out next fall, starring Pedro Pascal. Now you do.

After that first awkward gathering in the dining hall, he and Patton met up with RoLo most mornings for breakfast. And a lotta lunches. RoLo usually had dinner by themselves and those first few evenings, Patton acted a lot like he did their real first night. Quiet when he thought Remus wasn't looking, and then he'd get chatty, with a big, bright smile that stopped just before it reached his eyes. 

He’d perk right up at breakfast, though. The clouds would lift from those sky blue eyes, and his laughter came easier. And sometimes, when he was very lucky or very funny, Remus could pull that same sweet laugh from him. Tittering bells, tinkled keys at one end of a piano.

But usually, his biggest smiles were still reserved for Ro. For the first time in all their lives, really, they didn’t have any of the same classes and Patton would devour Ro’s tales of his day like a ravenous python.

Two months into the school year, though, and Patton’s face would still fall every time RoLo got all handsy in front of them. Fingers twisted around each other in his lap, Patton would sent his gaze down to his plate like he didn’t know where to look. Or he’d jump up, voice high and overly cheery, and offer to refill drinks or fetch more napkins or ketchup or some shit.

Finally even Logan noticed.

”Ai, mi amor, do not fret,” Ro had murmured, pressing Logan’s hand to his lips the breakfast right after midterms. “I’m certain you did wonderfully on your exam!”

”Yeah,” Patton said as he pushed up to his feet. Eyes down, he grabbed the three empty cups on the table. “You’re so smart, Logan, I’m sure you aced it! Hey, why don’t I get us more juice and stuff.”

Remus kicked his brother’s shin under the table and looked pointedly at RoLo’s hands when he looked his way.

”What the hell, Re—

“Oh, I do not require a refill,” Logan interrupted, giving Ro’s hand a little tug. “I must leave soon. I have an early lab this morning,” he said, swapping his empty cup for Roman’s half-filled one. “It does, however, appear you could use some assistance, Patton.” 

Ro finally got it and stood. “I shall see you after class then, mi amor,” he murmured as he bent and kissed Logan’s cheek. “Allow me to help you, Pat,” he smiled at Patton, laying on the gallantry chokingly thick.

Patton would barely look at him. ”Oh, thanks, Ro, but you really don’t hafta-”

”Please?” He said, reaching for the cups.

The morning sun glinted through Patton’s eyelashes when he finally looked up at Ro, casting long shadows over the apple of his cheeks. A slow smile spread across his face and he nodded. “Thanks,” he said and handed over one of the cups.

”It is my pleasure, my dear Pattington Bear,” Ro intoned in his best Prince Charming impression. Remus wanted to gag. “I’m happy to be an extra set of hands in all your endeavors!”

Patton giggled, bright sunlight cutting through the storm of his earlier expression. “My knight in shining armor.”

”After you,” Ro bowed, one arm spread out as though without his direction Patton somehow wouldn’t remember the way to the juice dispenser.

Patton gave him and Logan a little wave with one of the tumblers and chuckled, trotting off with Ro. 

Logan watched them leave and it was all Remus could do to not turn around in his seat and do the same. “You know,” Remus said, voice low so it wouldn’t carry over the din of the other breakfasters. “You have nothing to worry about with him. Ro’s head over heels for you.”

“I appreciate, though do not require the reassurance. I am well aware,” Logan said, smiling into his still half-filled coffee. “Roman has long since outgrown his old middle school crush.”

Remus felt his own jaw drop. How—

“You needn’t look so shocked,” Logan murmured, a smile quirking up his lip at Remus’ surprise. “Roman and I discussed it when I asked if he was aware of Patton’s feelings for him.” Logan took another bite of his food and chewed before adding, “I did not, however, discuss with him how your middle school crush has not evaporated with time.”

“What?” Remus choked on his yogurt. He dragged a napkin over his mouth and balled it up in his hands, shaking his head. “I don’t—I don’t have a—”

Logan met his denial with silence and that damned cocked eyebrow. Fuck he used to think that looked so hot. And now?

Sighing, Remus sat back in his chair. “It’s not just a crush, it’s—”

A bright peal of laughter drew both of their attention and Remus turned in his seat, following the sound. Patton and Ro were at the other end of the dining hall. Mouth covered with both hands, Patton couldn't quite muffle his laughter as he watched Ro balance a tray on his head, three filled glasses teetering on top. Ro turned a slow pirouette, then curtseyed when Patton applauded, not a drop spilled.

Remus turned back in his seat and saw Logan had been watching not the spectacle but him. He shoved the dirty napkin in his pocket. “It’s not just a crush.” 

“Indeed,” he said. 

Apparently Logan wasn’t satisfied with a mere confession. Steely blue eyes stared at him like a bug on a slide and Remus stared back. If Logan knew, how long would it be before everyone else did? “How could you tell?”

“Despite the declarations of self-described experts, autism is not necessarily the inability to perceive and properly interpret social cues,” Logan said, wiping his mouth and rising to his feet. “It is often the unwillingness to play pointless games that fail to address the matter at hand.”

Remus stared up at him, eyes wide. He’d always thought Logan to be kinda oblivious to all the glances and fidgets and glossy eyes on the other side of the table.

Logan continued, “May I suggest you direct your romantic attention elsewhere? With someone who is a willing recipient of said attention?”

”Hey, if you wanted to get back together,” Remus smirked, “You could’ve just said—”

He cut him off with a single raised hand. “Don’t deflect. You know I meant somewhere else outside this group.”

Remus shifted in his seat and stared at the sunlight reflecting off Patton’s coffee cup. “I… I don’t know about that, Lo.” He shook his head.

”I predicted you would say that. Fortunately, I prepared for such an outcome. Two tables down and three over is an attractive man who’s been watching you all morning,” Logan said matter-of-factly as he gathered his bag and jacket. “I tutor him in Biochem. His name is Jake. He’s a sophomore, reasonably intelligent, and an athlete.” He raised one eyebrow. Like Spock, he did it a lot. “And he’s clearly interested in you.”

”I’ll think about it,” Remus said, turning when he heard Patton and Ro’s voices grow louder. “I promise.”

“We are long past the time for consideration,” Logan said with a tiny smirk as he waved and nodded across the room. “I gave him your number last week.” On cue, his phone buzzed on the table, lit up with a text notification from an unknown number. “Call him today.”

~

Jake didn’t work out. ‘Reasonably intelligent’ turned out to mean ‘needed to demonstrate said intelligence by intellectually shitting on everyone around him,’ so after two dates, Remus mostly-gently asked him to stop calling.

Max and Taylor and Haseem hadn’t worked out, either. They were… fine, he supposed. Cute, good kissers, decent enough guys, but they just weren’t…

Remus had finished towel-drying his hair and was darkening his eyeliner in the dingy bathroom mirror when there was a knock at the door. Patton poked his head into their bathroom, one corner of his mouth pushed up into a little smile. “I think he’s here, Re.”

He met Patton’s eyes in the mirror. The heat and lingering steam from the shower was drawn to his features, glazing his round cheeks in a soft glow. Yes, he was here. Right fucking here next to him.

Remus put down the pencil and shimmied his shoulders, turning like a runway model. “Whaddya think?” He wore his new jeans with the rips in the thighs and a fishnet tank to show off his newest tattoo. 

“You look great!” His eyes darted to the door at a second knock. “Okay if I get it?” He started to turn when Remus nodded, then slid back. “Wait, which one’s this?” he whispered, the memory of the night they’d inadvertently overheard a couple breaking up in the hallway three doors down fresh in both their minds. Noise sure traveled on this hall.

“Uh,” Remus tapped his phone to check his last message. “Devin Moore.”

“Oh… Oh!” his face brightened in recognition. “I’ve got Stats with him. You ready?” he asked, flashing one more grin.

“I’m almost done, yeah,” Remus murmured. “Thanks, Pat.”

“Anytime, Roomie,” he said, running off to the door.

“Hey there, Devin!” Patton cheered as the door squealed open. “Re’s just about done.”

“Oh, Patrick. Hi.” Devin’s voice sounded… off. Surprised, maybe. Hadn’t he told Devin about his roommate? But something else in his tone urged Remus to finish up fast.

“It’s Patton,” Pat correctly, voice chipper but… thin. Like it got sometimes when talking to RoLo.

“Right… Patton. Nice to see you.”

Remus burst out of the bathroom and twirled, trying to ignore the voice in his head that said he’d seen Ro pull the same trick. Patton’s stifled giggle made it worth it, though, and he flashed him a quick grin before winking at Devin. “Hey there, handsome. Lemme grab my boots, and—”

Patton slid past him and grabbed his fleece lined MC from the closet. “It’s 40 degrees out, you should take this,” he murmured, eyebrows raised at his tank top.

He looked over at Devin’s puffer jacket, long pants, and boots and nodded before smiling at Patton. “Thanks,” he said and shoved his arms through the sleeves before joining Devin at the door. “Don’t wait up, yeah?”

“I won’t. I’ve got a quiz tomorrow.” Patton laughed. “Have fun!” he added and, with a little wave, closed the door behind them.

~

The credits had just begun to roll when Devin stood and motioned toward the aisle. “C’mon, it’s all on IMDB anyway,” he said when Remus, frowning, remained in his seat. 

Casting one more glance at the screen, he shrugged and sidled past the couple sitting near them. He wanted to see it again anyway. He could stay for the credits then. And If RoLo hadn’t gone yet, maybe they could all catch it together. Though Pat probably wouldn’t like that scene in the arena pits. But he could warn him about it, maybe they could even use it as a chance to get refills and check out—

Devin’s arm snaking around his waist pulled his thoughts back to the present. “Where’d you go, Sexy?” he purred close to his ear. 

Remus consciously leaned into his embrace and smirked, “I was not thinking about how hot Pedro Pascal looks in a toga.”

“Hmm… you weren’t, were you?” Devin’s lips grazed his neck and Remus let his eyes fall closed before nodding.

“Mm-hm,” he hummed and pushed away all other thoughts. Devin was hot, generous, smart. Here.

Devin led them closer to the exit and a blast of frigid air slammed into them as the doors slid open at their approach. “I’ve got heated seats,” Devin murmured, drawing him closer. “Why don’t we go for a drive?”

They didn’t even make it out of Park. For all its pretentious bells and whistles, the climate controls on the giant touch screen did at least make fast work of warming up the car. Under cover of the tinted—and now foggy—windows, Remus soon found himself straddling Devin’s lap on the driver’s seat, both of their jackets abandoned in the backseat. 

Even with the seat pushed back all the way, the steering wheel kept him close enough to feel exactly how pleased Devin was with their positions.

“I like your tattoo,” Devin smirked up at him, scalding heat in his eyes. He traced the longest tentacles curling toward his navel and chuckled. “It’s like they’re pointing me somewhere.”

“Yeah?” Remus shifted, not necessarily trying to move out of his reach but not sliding closer, either. “How ‘bout you?” he asked, tracing the skin just under his sleeves. “You have any ink?”

“And mark up the guns?” Devin said, pulling him in for another kiss.

Remus closed his eyes and abandoned himself to the scent of Devin’s hair gel, the heat of his mouth. The warm, rough palms dragging down his back. He pushed up Devin’s shirt, fingers walking along the cut of his abs. “You do keep it tight,” he whispered against his lips.

Trailing kisses down his jaw and along his neck, Devin laughed again, breath hot against his skin. He smelled like stale popcorn. “I knew you didn’t go for the doughy types,” he mumbled before sucking just below his ear.

“What?” Remus’ eyes snapped open.

“You know,” Devin chuckled then latched on to a new spot. Remus held his breath as he sucked hard against his skin. Finally Devin broke away, nipping at the mark he made. “Like your dorky little roommate.”

Remus pushed away from him, steering wheel jammed into his lower back. “The fuck you just say?”

“Oh, no, baby,” Devin cooed, one hand at his waist, the other pushing back hair from his eyes. “I’m all on board with that body positivity thing. As long as he’s happy, it’s none of my business. I’m just sayin’… you know…” He shrugged like his point was obvious. “He’s a bit… chunky. Not your type.” The hand that fell down to Remus’ waist burned through the mesh of his shirt. “Not in our league.”

Skin crawling, Remus shook his head and climbed back into his own seat. “Yeah, Pat is way the fuck out of your league.” He reached back and grabbed his jacket, ignoring Devin’s protests. “I’m gonna take the bus home. Have a good night,” he said, opening the door.

“Wait, baby, don’t leave like that—” Devin’s hand closed on his thigh before he could slide out of the car.

Grabbing his middle and ring fingers, Remus pushed back and twisted. Hard. Devin was left bent over the middle console, arm crooked back and hand up by his shoulder. Remus leaned close to growl in his ear. “Touch me again and I’ll break your fucking arm.”

“Okay, man! Okay,” Devin cried. Remus released him and he clambered back into the driver’s seat. “Jesus, you’re fucking crazy!” he said, starting the engine.

“Damn right I am,” Remus grinned and slammed the door shut just as Devin floored it out of the parking lot. He shot through the empty intersection just after the light turned red. “Call me fucking crazy,” he said, shaking his head.

Shivering, he took out his phone and, pretending he didn’t see it was already 34° out, pulled up the transit app. Good, he didn’t have long to wait for the next bus. He walked quickly and zipped up his jacket, shoving his hands in the deep, warm pockets. “Thanks for making me bring this, Pat,” he whispered to himself, already a little warmer.

~

Shaking off the last traces of his anger, Remus stopped outside his dorm room door and took a slow, deep breath. That asshole wasn’t worth another ounce of his energy. 

But inside his room was someone who was.

Remus dragged his hand down the door, loud enough to be heard inside if Pat was still awake—and possibly changing—but not nearly loud enough to wake him if he’d already gone to bed. He waited a beat then typed in the code and slowly opened the door.

Hallway light spilled into the dark room and cast a golden wedge across the floor and their beds. It caught just a bit of Pat’s curls where they peeked out from his usual nest of blankets and pillows. Looked like a halo. Remus’ shoulders dropped as the last shreds of tension from his fuck-awful night slipped away. When he turned to close the door, he was surprised to realize he was already smiling. 

Pat shifted in his sleep and as Remus’ eyes grew accustomed to the dark, he saw the stuffie Pat slept with fall to the floor with a soft thud. Remus toed off his boots and left them under his bed, then crept closer and crouched to retrieve it. It was a stuffed horse, about as big as both hands splayed out. It had a star between its eyes and a dappled grey coat. 

The first time he’d spotted the bit of grey fluff spilling out from Pat’s blankets, he’d had a flash of recognition. And his guess had been right. The stuffie really was Phillip. 

Ro had won it at their seventh grade end-of-year carnival. Just after Remus had won a stuffed stingray at the same bottle game. Remus couldn’t remember if he’d actually told Ro who he’d planned to give it to. Maybe he was just that obvious about it back then. All he remembered was that Ro had beat him to it, bowing regally and presenting the little grey horse to Pat like the golden apple offered to Helen of Troy.

For as old as he was, the little stuffie was in pretty good shape. He was a little threadbare in a couple spots and there were crooked black stitches along one hoof, but the plush material was still fluffy. He smelled like Pat’s conditioner.

His mane had splayed out in the night, sticking up every which way. Remus chuckled and smoothed it back down, leaving a little swoop over his eyes the way Pat’s hair fell over his own forehead when he got excited. Satisfied the little horse was back to his previous state, he looked up—

Right into Pat’s wide eyes.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry I woke you,” Remus whispered. Smiling, he offered him the stuffed horse. “You dropped this in your sleep.”

“That’s not—” he started, sitting up and shaking his head. 

Remus frowned and sat the stuffie on top of his covers. Pat stared at it for a moment before plucking it up and thrusting it under the blankets. “You—you weren’t supposed to see that,” he whispered.

“Pattycake,” Remus laughed, sitting back on the floor. “I saw Philip our second night here. I couldn’t sleep. You rolled over and I saw you cuddling him.”

“How—” He stared at Remus, lower lip caught between his teeth. “How did you know his name?”

Remus shrugged, “I was there when you got him.” 

Pat blinked, eyes faraway, replaying the memory like a movie. Suddenly his eyes widened, shiny in the dim light. “You remember that?”

“‘Course I do,” he nodded. “You don’t have to hide him. You don’t have to hide anything from me, Pattycake. I’m your friend.”

Pat’s head hung down and he hugged his knees to his chest. “My other friends made fun of me for keeping him.” He snaked one hand under the covers and fished Phillip out. 

“Those assholes didn’t know how to be your friend then, did they?” He pet the star on Phillip’s head and smiled up at Pat. “I’d never tease you, not if you didn’t think it was funny, too, at least.”

Pat looked back at him for a long time, holding his gaze. Finally he smiled. “Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Yeah, I know.”

“Ro, on the other hand…” Remus smirked, softening into a full grin when Patton giggled. Copper bells tinkling in the air. “Yeah, Ro, I’ll tease the fuck out of him.”

“He’d probably think you were sick if you suddenly stopped teasing him.”

“Yeah, he would,” Remus laughed. He reached for Pat’s hand then shifted at the last second and gave Phillip another little pet. “Good night, Patttycake,” he murmured. “Gonna take a shower and wash the stink of burnt popcorn offa me then head to bed.”

“Good idea,” Pat nodded. “‘Night, Re.” 

He pushed up to his feet and Pat got settled again under his covers, Phillip clutched close to his chest. Remus pulled off his belt and his shirt, then left them on the floor of his closet. In the dark, he felt around for a pair of sleep shorts from his drawer and headed for the bathroom.

“Hey, Remus?” Light from the art building’s veranda sparkled in Pat’s eyes.

“Yeah, Pat?”

Barely visible, he sat up and fidgeted with Phillip’s mane. “Breakfast tomorrow?” 

Remus’ throat clenched. Ever since the night Remus had spent at Taylor’s place, every day Pat would ask him if they would still go together to breakfast the next morning. Like he couldn’t trust anymore that Remus would be there.

He smiled, nodding, though he knew Pat couldn’t see him. “You bet. I’ll finagle fresh coffee from the kitchen and you can get us the good table by the heater.”

“It’s a deal,” Pat laughed and settled back into bed. “Night,” he whispered after a moment. Remus could just make out the flash of his smile in the dim room. 

“”Night, Pattycake.”

[hel-phoenyx]

New Year's Eve, part 20

Well you know how it is but do you know how it will be~

Okay enough ominous, still the ongoing story with @corneille-but-not-the-author and @soupedepates, we're in the middle of March and it is time to link all the plotlines back together~

He thinks he's slick, doesn't he ?

Now that he's back at the precinct, hair tied and sadness on his face, working like nothing new happened in his life. Working like he isn't in a kind of journey for self discovery.

I'm sure he thinks nobody saw him. Else he wouldn't have gone out like this. Sadly for him, I'm Odysseus. And, well, when I notice some streets away the little figure of a person I hate with a lady looking suspiciously like one of my colleagues, with the same hazelnut hair and all, of course I get curious.

Didn't take me long to recognize who was under that camouflage. And I doubt he was undercover or some shit. Rather, I think he's undercover right now.

I haven't said anything. Yet. Oh, I could. Drop a little allusion here and there and see how his (?) face distorts. Imagine that, Mayor Warsowar's son, heir of one of the most conservative fuckers ever elected at the head of this city, strutting around the streets in full dress and makeup. The scandal for our little mayor.

I could even make him know I am aware of that little secret and watch how his attitude towards me change. I'm sure I'll get a lot of fear out of that.

Fear is power.

I haven't said anything.

I haven't said anything probably because I remember Thorfinn running towards me crying and shaking and telling me he might not be his assigned gender. Because I helped them find a new name and was behind him for all the steps of the identity change.

Because no one deserves to be forced in a vision of themselves they're not ready to accept.

Or maybe I am just softening.

Ha.

Who knows.

I don't think none of them noticed me, those few days ago. Or Domhildr would not have come to me to "make amends", she says. Feeling bad about destroying my reputation, huh ?

Sad she tried to make up with offering me a blowjob. Ew. Ew ew ew ew ew, just thinking about that is making me cringe. I don't want any sexual shit, and certainly not for you, the idea is enough to make my skin crawl. Fuck's sake I wouldn't even let TYR touch me this way, as if he wanted to.

Well that wasn't the only option.

She also offered me blackmail material on a silver plate.

Things Sigismund doesn't know about.

An judging by the second one, not even Tyr knows all of it.

It would be so easy to drop a hint of two and watch her whole world crumble. How would the oh so virtuous Sigismund Warsowar react when he learns you got pregnant four times from different fathers ?

How would my best friend take the fact you prostituted yourself for a year ?

...

I don't even know.

I hold so much power against you and at the same time your eyes when you told me everything were Brynja's.

Something is ringing in my ears.

Slut.

She had no choice. Just like her.

An abortion at 17.

A miscarriage at 9.

Doing the streets like it's everything you're good for.

Dead in the streets because it was the only thing she could do.

Dead. Dead. Dead.

The tears over the phone.

The funeral I couldn't go to.

The eyes. The eyes. The eyes.

Piano is blasting on my office. I got a few nasty looks from my colleagues, but I don't care. It does work. I've found a newfound affection for Chopin. It helps me focus.

Even if Walpurgis comes to my desk. Like right now.

"Wolffsen, you're up for patrolling."

"What ?! It's not Thursday ! I have files to progress-"

"Don't wanna hear it. Mayor Warsowar is worried about the protest of today. He wants everyone mobilized."

... Of course. Because it's more important to stop protesters rather than investigating the sect that kidnapped your son.

Even Karan af Mundir was not that cruel.

I'm driving the car with my usual patrol companion, and as usual he is silent, watching over the streets with diligence. I'm also following the usual route. Even if Mayor Warsowar wants to protect his precious little castle, I have a city to watch over.

What's unusual is that this time I have music in the car and he looks even jumpier than usual.

"... I've never heard you listen to music before."

Oh hey, the mute found back his voice.

"Therapist orders."

"..... You got therapy ?"

"Yeah, don't you ?"

He was supposed to, at least, after the kidnapping. Not like I cared at the time. Not like I really care today. It's just the reason why I can give him the real explanation.

Can't get judgy when you need a psychiatrist for "physical and mental trauma combine with complex PTSD".

I see on the mirror he's making a face. Oh. So someone skipped the skrink, huh ? Yeah, don't try to hide it. I have always been perecptive of this kind of things.

Because every time I come back home I have to study my father's face for my wellbeing.

The music changes. Moonlight sonata. Beethoven is good too; Apparently he also enjoys it, since his muscles are slowly starting to relax. Good, good, because we're approaching the place the protest is supposed to be held in and I don't want a ball of stress while I check if "everything's alright".

Jeez. Like I even want to interfere. If I could take a day off I'll be with the protesters, maybe even with my black ski mask. Sadly I can't. I need the money, and I need to lay low. Me taking a day off just the day of a protest would be suspicious as fuck.

We're heading to the City Hall.

I already hear noises in front of the mayor's little palace.

Looks like it's getting heated.

"... What the fuck ? Sigismund exclaimed when we got in eyesight of the crowd. This is not a peaceful protest !"

Oh, really ? Boi, if you'd know what I've seen. Sure, there's masked men on top of the procession and some of them are currently shouting at my colleagues, but that's still peaceful. No blows. No weapons. Not even pepper sprays, for fuck's sake.

I roll my eyes and doesn't answer, but Sigismund grips my arm.

"com'on, we have to go."

I snort.

"We ? I think the colleagues can handle a few people shouting."

"They're black blockers, it's dangerous-"

"Yeah, for you if you show up your pretty face, officer Warsowar. Com'on, it's fine, let the people protest."

His face distorts himself in something I have never seen.

Some kind of anger.

What are you angry at ?

Not me, I hope for you.

I'm still stronger.

I could bash your little white brain out of your sorry skull.

I could tell you all the shit your precious girlfriend did.

I could-

I shift on my seat. Lean on the steering wheel. Keeping the fists in check. Right. Keeping the fists in check.

Sigismund is still looking at me.

He's unfastening his seatbelt.

"You do whatever you want, Fenrir. i'm still going."

"Suit yourself. I'm not going out for a peaceful protest."

Even if i'll have to stay on guard. Black blockers were not supposed to be here. at least, not those of my group.

I send a message to Idalia.

"event planned today ?"

She's not answering.

Sigismund is now running towards the protest. The other cops are busy with the blackblockers, and some of them are even harassing the more peaceful protesters. I roll my eyes. I'll have to take care of that, just, give me a minute-

Some people are fighting in the bloc.

Nobody is noticing. The other are either busy with the shouting protesters or trying to make the peaceful ones go away.

And Sigismund is running right at them.

That idiot-

I get out. I'll have to stop the fucker before he reaches the blockers. If they're fighting, a cop trying to interfere is only gonna make them angrier.

The car is locked, I am outside, I made sure it's far enough from the protesters. I have my taser and service weapon on me, even if I'd rather not use them. Last time I had no choice but to interfere in a black bloc, I could use the confusion to throw some of my lacrymo grenades in the CRS's direction. it's not the case today.

My radio is emitting a noise.

"Walpurgis here, says my superintendant. CRS have been dispatched to the City Hall. I repeat-"

Damn it. Who called them ? Warsowar, no doubt. The mayor. Sigismund is too busy trying to interrupt the fight.

It's no use anyway.

Because they will be

Far too late.

A brick flies from the middle of the black crowd.

High above the heads of the protesters.

Right to a man trying to interfere.

I am close enough to hear a crack.

He's on the ground. Blood is flowing from a wound on his head. It doesn't seem that serious, now that I've reached him and tased everyone trying to get close, but at this rate, he may lose far too much blood.

Seeing Sigismund is down and unconscious, the other cops jumped into the melee. Everything around me is now blurred by screams and hitting sounds and I'm sure I even saw some people with knives.

Blood is tainting my hands.

Idiot. Trying to stop a fight while forgetting to protect your head. Why the fuck must you interfere in things you have no power over ?!

Now you're unconscious and bleeding on the ground while I am next to you while I could profit from that chaos to bring down Sarovar's reign.

"I have one man down, I shout in my radio, trying to keep my cool. Call an ambulance for the City Hall. I repeat-"

Fuck, that's a lot of blood. Head wounds always bleed a lot. He's gonna need a blood transfusion.

Com'on, fucker. You can't die on me like this.

Not for a meaningless goal.

Something flies towards me, too. I jump on the ground, try to avoid it. I don't know how I end up on the body below me, barely breathing blood flowing hair all red

I just remember

The pain in my right arm

And then only red and orange in my vision.

I regain some sort of consciousness in the ambulance. Apparently I am not in a serious enough state to be laying down on a bed. It may be because I am high on adrenaline. People in white coats are everywhere. Not around me.

My arm is bandaged. Why ? I don't feel anything.

"what.... the fuck..."

No one is really paying attention to me.

I kinda get why.

I see hazelnut in the middle of all this white.

They're talking about warning the family. About the danger.

Danger on his life ?

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I still have my phone.

No message for Idalia.

Too late to care.

I have to do something.

Because

Because

They won't warn her, don't they ?

She's probably not in his emergency contacts, at the hospital.

Just like I wasn't.

And I was right next to him.

Right next to him

Before I lost him

For something that feels like forever.

Warning.

I have to

Something stabs my right arm. I shout in pain, and one of the med workers turn towards me.

"Don't move your arm ! The wound needs to rest-"

"Fuck off. I need to have this call, you hear me ?! Go away !"

They would like to preotest, but something is making a bolted noise on the other side, and he leaves me alone for a while.

Can't move my arm. Texting is out of the question. Fuck. I'm not even sure he will answer. Fuck.

I dial my own emergency number.

Com'on. Pick up, pick up, pick up pick up pick up

One time. Two time. Three times.

Please, pick up, I have to

I have to do something right for once.

Something finally clicks at the sixth attempt. A cold, cold voice is heard through the phone.

"I hope you have a damn good reason to spam me, Fenrir."

I've never felt so relieved.

He hasn't got me blocked. He still chose to pick up. Even after everything.

How ironic that he is now my only way of communication.

"Al-hamdulillah you've picked up."

"Wha- I've never heard you speak in Arabic before, especially not to thank God ? The fuck is happening, Fen- is that ambulance sirens ?!"

The cold is getting more and more frantic. but I don't have time to sugarcoat it. I don't.

"No time for this. Is Domhildr with you ?"

"Huh ? Yeah, actually, she is. We were chilling until going to the protest, we were about to leave, actually-"

I can hear a feminine voice asking what is up. Perfect. Just perfect. I don't even have time to be angry.

"Bad idea. It exploded. No, don't interrupt, I say as he is about to talk. Listen. I was on duty, and Sigismund was, too. He got hit with a brick. On the head."

Silence.

I can't stop talking.

"We're headed to the hospital. Both of us. Thought I had to warn her about what was happening"

Because no one will.

And if he does die

Please don't die on me

She won't even have time to see him before any funeral.

The silence is still there.

I'm done talking.

Tyr takes a deep breath.

"Okay. We're leaving. No, don't go to your bike, Domi, I hear a little further away in the phone. It'll be quicker on my motorcycle. I have a spare helmet."

I hear some frantic talking on the phone before Tyr's voice comes back in the speaker.

"We'll be at the hospital as soon as possible. Be here to explain yourself."

I have a tired smile.

"That's going to be complicated. Doctors may want to see me, too."

"Huh ? Why-"

"Metal pipe in my arm."

"What-"

I hang up.

World is spinning around me.

Adrenaline is running out. I feel so tired. Probably lost a lot of blood, too.

I barely see the hospital when we're finally discharged.

The white-haired doctor takes one look at us before sending us in two different rooms.

I can read on his face how worried he is.

Not for me.

I saw worse.

Did I ?

Did he ?

The emergency room closes behind him. Those doors now hiding the son (?) of the Warsowar.

[littledreamling]

Fluffbruary 50/50 Challenge: February 5 & 6 - Aquarium, Trust

Tags: aquariums, mentions of PTSD, Dream of the Endless has PTSD, healing, panic attacks, Dream of the Endless loves Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling loves Dream of the Endless, Trust

“Rose and Jed have expressed a wish to visit the aquarium,” Dream said, and Hob hummed affirmatively as he cracked an egg into the already sizzling pan. He and Dream were in his kitchen making breakfast; more accurately, Hob was making breakfast while Dream looked on, endlessly fascinated by humanity’s love of food in all forms. Hob had learned, through months of trial and error and patient compassion, to let Dream gather his thoughts without interruption, so he kept his attention on the stove until Dream was ready to continue his train of thought to its inevitable terminus, wherever that may be.

“I should like to accompany you.”

Hob nearly dropped the plate he was holding in shock. All at once, a million thoughts raced through his mind. Was Dream aware of what an aquarium was? Was he ready for that level of exposition, not only to the crowds of people, but also to the sheer amount of glass? Ever since Dream had opened up about his imprisonment, Hob had taken it on himself to guard the Endless from any situations that could potentially trigger his trauma. An aquarium seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

He kept his face carefully neutral as he plated up the eggs and bacon, though. He was sure Dream could detect his inner concerns, but there was no need to worry Rose and Jed unduly.

“Kids!” He called to the living room where the Walkers siblings were playing with Jed’s action figures. “Breakfast!”

He heard the clatter of plastic hitting the floor, immediately followed by the thundering of footsteps as they descended like a herd of wild animals. Rose usually protested being called a kid, insisting upon her mature age, unknowingly proving any point of immaturity attempting to be made, but evidently her stomach (or the knowledge that, in comparison to her uncles, she really was a child, and would be for a long time) overruled any objections. They both babbled their thanks as he handed them their plates, then retreated back to the table to dig in, leaving Hob and Dream in relative privacy once again.

“Love,” Hob sighed, trying to keep as much consternation out of his voice as possible. He turned to face his lover, propping one hip against the kitchen counter and burying his shaking hands in his pockets. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“You would not want me there?”

“No!” Hob cried quickly, one hand dislodging itself and reaching towards Dream of its own accord. He brushed his fingers against the back of Dream’s hand cautiously; his lover had never been averse to physical contact, but the air between them felt charged and Hob found himself faintly surprised that the touch didn’t send them both flying. He glanced down, at the fine hand grasped in his, marveling at the delicate bones and smooth skin, and then back up, catching Dream’s gaze intently. “That’s not it at all. I would love for you to come with us. It’s just… I’m not sure it would be. Good for you.”

“How so?” Dream asked, a far cry from the indignation he would’ve responded with just a few short months ago. Hob decided to take the risk, knowing it could blow up in his face, but he had to make sure.

“You are aware of what an aquarium is, correct?”

“An aquarium is a transparent tank of water in which fish and other water creatures and plants are kept.”

“And you’re a smartass,” Hob remarked without heat. “I just don’t… I don’t want this to be a bad experience for you. There’s a lot of glass and I don’t want that to trigger anything unpleasant.”

“Do you trust me, Hob?”

It was hardly a question, and surely one that Hob didn’t have to think about for long.

“Of course, love,” he breathed.

“I will be okay,” Dream said with finality. “If I am uncomfortable, I will always be able to retreat to my realm. With you there, however, I do not see how it could be an adverse experience.”

Hob felt his heart clench in his chest at that. Being on the receiving end of Dream’s affection was such a new feeling; he often didn’t have room within himself to contain it all.

“Okay,” he said with a watery smile. “Okay. I’ll buy another ticket.”

—

Which is how, six hours later, he found himself strolling through the massive aquarium, hand in hand with the King of Dreams and Nightmares, watching Rose and Jed weave through the crowds. It should’ve felt disorienting to be standing next to such unfathomable power in the middle of a food court, but the domesticity of the situation overruled any lingering cognitive dissonance. 

So far, they had managed to avoid the glass-heavy sections of the aquarium. Dream had loved the touch pool, eagerly running his fingers over the varied textures of the sharks and rays. He had raptly watched the otters play in their enclosure, seemingly more comfortable with the single sheet of glass without a ceiling to box them in. Indeed, Hob was impressed by how well Dream had handled the vast majority of the trip. There was only one exhibit left, and he had been dreading it all day: Ocean Voyager. It was a crowd favorite and with good reason. The tank itself was bigger than a football field and held over 6 million gallons of water. And the entrance just so happened to go through a tunnel of glass.

Even as they approached, Hob felt his heartbeat kick up. The line ahead of them forced them to slow to a slither, which was fine by him. He wanted to give Dream every opportunity to back out before it was too late.

“Love,” he started, caressing the back of Dream’s hand with his thumb. “I just want to warn you. The entrance to this section is a tunnel of glass with water all around. It’s okay if you don’t want to go through this one, I can stay out here with you while Rose and Jed go ahead.”

“I…” Dream paused, seeming to consider his words carefully. “I want to… face that which causes me distress. I do not want to be trapped by my fear any longer.”

“You’ve done an amazing job today,” Hob smiled and squeezed Dream’s palm. “If this is what you want, I’ll be right next to you the whole time.”

The tunnel itself was, in Hob’s opinion, one of the most gorgeous sights he had ever seen. It was 100 feet of curved glass revealing the ocean above them, light filtering through the water to cast a blue-green tint on the crowd below. Sharks, fish, and manta rays all swam lazily overhead, a feat that never failed to take his breath away, his renaissance peasant mind temporarily blown by the engineering required to achieve such a magnificent display. The very first glimpse of it, however, stopped Dream in his tracks. He tensed, as stiff as a board next to Hob, all of his attention on the glass above them. His eyes were glazed slightly and Hob noticed that he wasn’t even breathing; his throat straining to get unnecessary air to his unnecessary lungs.

“Dream, love,” he said softly. “Come back to me.”

It worked, marginally. Dream ripped his gaze from the clear acrylic to Hob’s face, though it seemed to take an enormous effort. Hob made sure to reward the exertion with a small, private smile. Some of the tension around Dream’s eyes eased as he grimaced a tight, fleeting smile in return.

“That’s it,” Hob praised. “Are you with me?”

Dream jerked his head in a stuttering nod, more of a neck spasm than anything close to a controlled movement, but it was enough. At least he was mentally present, his eyes wary and watchful. Hob could work with it.

“Do you trust me?”

Another nod, this one far more confident and accompanied by a shuddering breath that caused his chest to flutter underneath his black sweater. Hob repaid him with another smile, hoping to convey all of his pride and encouragement in the uptick of his lips and the softness of his eyes. 

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do,” he said confidently, tugging them both over to the side of the pathway, out of the way of the majority of the crowd. Dream’s trust was no small thing, but he intended to wield it to the best of his ability. He knew, largely from experience with anxious students, that a tsunami of questions was often more harmful than helpful; statements of fact and taking the lead were the most effective strategies. “We’re going to walk through the tunnel as quickly as possible. I’ll be with you the entire time, my hand in yours. There’s a massive tank on the other side that I think you’ll probably like, so we can spend as much time there as you want. Does that sound good?”

Dream nodded again, his lips forming an affirmative syllable without the lung capacity to provide enough sound to be able to be heard over the din of the horde around them. It was enough. Hob squeezed Dream’s hand again, and then he was off, tugging an equally quick-footed Dream through the mass of people, weaving expertly down the length of the entire path, not once sparing an upwards glance. By the time they reached the darkness at the end of the tunnel, Hob was slightly winded and grinning, he was sure, slightly maniacally. Dream’s hand was still clasped tightly in his, nearly cutting off circulation to several fingers, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

Dream hesitantly shook his head, the clench of his jaw already working its way loose in the comfort of shadows. They stood for a moment, or three, or twelve, Hob catching his breath and Dream regaining comfort in his own skin. It was a slow process, but Hob had all the time in the world. Watching the transformation in Dream was more fascinating than the fish, anyway. His shoulders squared, subtly, regaining their usual regal demeanor. His eyes softened, taking stock of their surroundings, the faux carved stone walls, the dark carpet, the children running underfoot.

Dream licked his lips an indeterminate amount of time later, then whispered, “Thank you.”

“Of course, my love. Would you like to continue?”

“You mentioned a large tank,” Dream said. “I should… like to see it.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s one of the largest in the world,” Hob gushed. “We just walked underneath it, but the next one is just a flat piece of glass, like the otters. Well, it’s not glass, it’s acrylic, and it’s not like the otters, because it goes all the way up to the ceiling, but it’s the same general concept.”

They walked as he talked, still hand-in-hand, through the darkened passage. As they approached the entrance, the very air around them hushed, as if they were about to enter a temple. Hob still remembered the first time he turned the corner, emerging into the vast room, lit only by the light streaming through the water in the floor-to-ceiling tank. It wasn’t uncommon for first-timers to stop in their tracks at the sight, the sheer size and magnificence of the tank in front of them proving to be overwhelming.

So when he guided Dream around the turn, he was prepared for the sudden halt and intake of breath. Watching the amazement on Dream’s face, however, was a new experience. His lips parted in awe, his eyes as wide as Hob had ever seen them. His pale skin was shaded blue from the water’s tint and his blue eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.

“ Oh ,” he breathed.

“Come on, love,” Hob whispered. “Let’s find a seat, yeah?”

Dream nodded absently and Hob gently tugged him through the crowd. The entire room consisted of giant, shallow steps, large enough to act like carpet-covered bleachers. Children, and the parents of children, pressed close to the glass, ducking under the railings to smush their faces and hands against the clear barrier, endlessly entranced by the lure of the water and creatures on the other side. Hob and Dream were lucky enough to find a spot near the front, unbothered by roughhousing or antsy kids. Near the wall, shrouded by darkness, caught up in the splendor of the exhibit, Hob almost felt as though he and Dream were in their own world. There was soft, ethereal music playing from the speakers far above their heads, drowned out slightly by the murmurs of the people around them. The hand in his grasp had gone somewhat slack; all of Dream’s attention was on the tank. Any remaining trace of anxiety from the tunnel had summarily vanished, morphing into abject wonder, so Hob turned his own focus to the oceanscape.

The cerulean water, the vastness of the view, and the richness of the life on display never failed to take his breath away. Thousands of fish could be seen in front of the glass at any given time; grouper and stingrays and sharks all vying for his attention. And then the whale sharks swam placidly into view, and Hob felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. When he had proclaimed, in 1389, that he would experience all life had to offer, he had never thought to imagine anything remotely like this. How could he have ever known? His mates, he remembered, told stories of sea monsters, massive creatures glimpsed just below the surface, shadows lurking in the depths. As Hob watched the enormous whale sharks circle the tank, he wasn’t sure they had been altogether wrong. He couldn’t find it in himself to judge them or find fault in their misconceptions. He only wished that they, along with everyone else he had lost over the years, could’ve been here to witness the advancements that made such a wondrous sight possible.

They sat, curled against each other, for over an hour. At some point, Hob had turned to find tears streaming down Dream’s cheeks, left unwiped and undoubtedly unnoticed. Rose and Jed wandered through a few times, content to be left to their own devices to explore and retrace their steps through the entire aquarium. Hob trusted Rose to keep an eye on Jed while he and Dream basked in the oceanic light.

“Thank you, Hob,” Dream said finally. His voice was rough and gravelly, heavy with emotion. “Can we… Can we go through it again?”

“The tunnel?” Hob asked, trying to hide his surprise. “Of course we can. We can go anywhere you want. Are you sure you’re up for it?”

“Hm,” Dream hummed, then nodded. “I should like to. Get used to it. If this is the reward waiting for me, I am certain I can stomach the feeling of glass above me.”

With that, they stood. And with one last, marveling glance, they exited back to the center of the aquarium, right back to the beginning.

—

They went through the tunnel a total of seven times. Each subsequent journey took longer than the last as Dream grew more relaxed. Their steps slowed, their breathing slowed, their heartbeats slowed. Dream even got so bold as to take a ride on the moving sidewalk that traveled the length of the passage, focusing the attention that he would usually spare for the placement of his feet to the water above, watching the ocean life glide unhurriedly over their heads. Hob watched as Dream shifted, his entire frame unwinding, the stress and anxiety dripping off of every plane of his body, fraction by fraction, with every pass.

This, he thought, was true magic. This was the greatest pleasure in life. To be able to watch the healing process, right in front of his very eyes. To be able to stand by his lover’s side, their palms pressed together, their heartbeats pumping in peaceful tandem. To watch, with unending wonder, as Dream discovered true joy again.

And then Dream dropped his hand. They were alone in the tunnel, as close to the aquarium’s closing time as Hob ever let himself get, and he suddenly found himself, for the first time since walking through the front doors that morning, with two empty hands. His heart jumped, then immediately laid back down to rest, because Dream had done what they had seen so many small children do that day: he pressed both palms to the glass, his nose mere centimeters from the cold pane, his eyes alight with amazement. Hob’s entire chest cracked open at the sight. He stepped in behind Dream, curling his arms gently around his waist, hooking his chin over the bony arch of Dream’s shoulder.

“What do you see?” He asked softly.

“Life,” breathed Dream. “What do you see?”

Healing, Hob thought. Love. Trust.

“I see you.”

Read on AO3!!

[infini-tree]

Hope you don't mind me whamming you with Multiple Characters for the ask meme, but if you have received other asks covering some of these then that would lessen it a bit, right??? XD Alright: Cap + 16, Sam + 18, and 32 for THREE different characters: Oogway, Soothsayer and Krupp. We can also throw in Cap as a fourth for good measure. Optional bonus questions: Soothsayer + 29, and Horton + 25. Okay we're done, hope that wasn't too much XD. They're fun questions I got curious ahaha

honest favorite character asks

16. Have you ever cried when thinking about this character? Genuinely? (captain)

is it bad if i say no? emotional anguish, yes, but i don't think i've genuinely physically tears-on-my-face cried. in fairness, a lot of the emotional anguish comes from me putting him through the Horrors (tm).

its kind of like tickling yourself-- you already know you're doing it, so you don't laugh. its the same principle (ha) here. i know what i'm putting captain through and sticky notes au was never meant to be a tragedy so much as a long-form character exploration. its probably why i feel confused about people considering this au is dark,

18. Do you prefer to see this character suffer or know peace? Angst or comfort? Both? (sam)

on the one hand i think sam deserves the stability he never got growing up with no mom/as a thief. i think him being the Weird Uncle to EB and her new little brother would be really sweet, considering his orphaned past. the man would spoil them so badly.

plus him and pam need to catch up and figure out how to be a mother and son together in less stressful times (i know there's an episode that speedruns that but again. that still had the underlying threat of the whole moo-lacka-moo conflict)

on the other hand, i think sam has one more in him to go through the Seussian Horrors. they figure out their world is on a speck of dust and have to catch horton's attention but he's been captured by the circus mcgurkus? a season that pays homage to seuss' dark paintings? the cat in the hat is there? i don't know man

32. If you could make this character a meal, what would you make them? (oogway, soothsayer, krupp, cap)

ok, here's the thing. i am not adept in the kitchen, but lets also add the additional caveat that this is a scenario in which i can cook and also have the resources for this theoretical scenario.

additionally, the food mentioned would still have to be food i'm aware of prior to this, so i just can't go completely out of pocket in this theoretical scenario.

oogway: some sort of waffle (vegan) and a fruit smoothie/juice.

i don't think oogway eats... like, a lot. comes with the territory of meditating (and tortoise metabolism). so something with a smaller portion may be more appropriate-- it'd still be a lot by his standards, lol.

really my thought process starts and ends with i think giving him a breakfast food would be nice. could even arrange some fruits around to make the waffle look like a little turtle.

(i'm specifying vegan here because eating things with milk or eggs/meat is probably weird or just straight up taboo in the kfp-verse. note also applies to soothsayer too.)

soothsayer: some kind of vegan tacos (spicy), espresso.

ok i imagine her usually eating fancy a lot of the time anyway, so something much more casual then? i imagine it being a bit overstuffed with a soft shell-- she tries eating it and part of the insides fall onto the plate on the other side, that sort of thing. its spicy because i think she'd like spicy food.

espresso because. i think she needs it.

krupp: one (1) tv dinner. Some Sort Of Soup (butternut?) and a slice of brownie.

ok, for real, he's the one that NEEDS something homecooked out of all these characters. something filling, but easy to have a lot of and have leftovers of for in the oncoming week. soup, of course is the obvious answer. my butternut squash soup bias is coming through, but really any thicker soup will do. he'd be able to customize it a bit further as he needs to with salt/pepper/green onions and maybe grab some crackers if he's so inclined.

my brownie bias is also coming through. it won't be as sweet, but its still pretty rich. again, ease of leftovers is a priority here as you an just make a tray of it, cut it into portions and put it in the freezer. imo, it tastes better like that because now its just ultra dense and fudge-y and cold.

cap: something like palabok? (though, with substitutions to the shrimp and pork if that's the case) and halo-halo.

the name of the game here is novelty and having him try something new-- stuff that wasn't mentioned by the comics or his sidekicks or could be offered by the aforementioned. i've mentioned things like sushi and i've always thought he'd enjoy tiramisu here and here, but in terms of making i was thinking some sort of noodle? my brain keeps going back to palabok (i think he'd appreciate how bright orange it can get), but that's not kosher hence the point about substitution.

halo-halo is fun and colorful. lots of textures. some of the elements separately are familiar (the shaved ice and the gelatin) but the stuff he'd associate with more savory food (beans and corn) would be a surprise.

29. Do you affectionately bully this character? (soothsayer)

no, that's what oogway is for /j

25. What kind of fan-fiction do you read about this character? If you don’t read fan-fics about them, why not? (horton)

i don't because there isn't a lot?

ok i may be exaggerating, there has to be some fanfics that popped up as a result of the 2008 movie, but frankly i don't feel like trawling through what i can only assume is an overabundance of jo-jo fics. and the version of horton in my head is so specific on account of picking and choosing parts of everything he's been in, so i feel like nothing will satisfy me.

that being said, i do remember a story-- not a fic, but a fancomic set post-canon to the events of 2008, where the who scientist lady made a device to make the mayor big enough to be visible and actually interact with horton. cue shennanigans once he realizes that he doesn't have the creature comforts of whoville on account of being in the middle of a jungle. and also there's a jaguar oc who wants to eat the mayor. it was cool! at least kid me thought so.

[uefb]

Final chapter of The Riot Act link

Summary: In which the Scamanders write a lot of letters; Uncle Hesiod is effectively blackmailed by every single member of Newt’s family (including Newt himself); Theseus shows every shade of who he is and who he will become; and Newt and his father have a bit of a “glow-up”, as the kids say in the year of our lord 2023. (Click for relatable Newt & Theseus meme.)

Also, 11-year-old Newt dropping truths: “I know I annoy people, Uncle Hesiod, but I think all creatures must be met with a baseline level of compassion, and I wonder if I am sometimes not afforded that because I am different.”

Gifs by @whumpypepsigal

Excerpt (opening letters):

7AM

Floo Telegram (extra charge for weight)

Helios Scamander to Rowan Scamander

Dear Rowan,

Wanted to let you know that Newt’s day at the Ministry was rather awful. It sounds like he comported himself reasonably well, while Hesiod—on the other hand—behaved beastly. I expect we’ll be dealing with the damage for a week or so. No “fairies”, per se, but he’s gone a bit more quiet than usual, so I’m giving him the day with Theseus and his projects to see if that helps.

All that being said, Newt is—strictly speaking—physically all right, so there’s absolutely no need to worry on that front. (No doxy disasters or broken limbs, thank Merlin.) However, you and I will need to have a good long talk, I’m afraid. Make some decisions about the nature of our own relationship with Hesiod and my family generally, as well as revisit more realistic plans for Newt’s future. And then also, on quite a more basic level, we must contend with the now (while somehow not reinforcing the mess Hesiod has dumped into our laps—he planted some rather upsetting ideas in Mud’s fertile little head). Nevertheless, our son went on a bit of a solitary nighttime wander after, more or less, lying to me by omission… So that’s obviously behaviour that must be addressed. I’ve just absolutely no clue how to do it.

Anyway - I’ll be bringing him home tomorrow after work. (And yes — Theseus and I have both enchanted him to within an inch of his life. If he so much as sneezes before we’re back in Derbyshire, we’ll know it.) T has requested to come along. I shall tell you all the details in person, as I’ve got my hands surprisingly full on the one with an enraged 19-year-old who still thinks I can’t tell when he’s scheming; and, on the other, with an 11-year-old, who apparently requires magnificently compelling evidence just to convince him to eat his damn breakfast.

With love,

Helios

7:20AM

Floo Telegram

Rowan Scamander to Helios Scamander

Helios — So sorry to hear it went horribly but happy to know he mostly behaved(?). Unsurprised he fled the flat if upset, though still unacceptable. (How in the world did he get past you, though?) Must admit, am quite worried without details, esp. if T is concerned enough to leave training. Floo chat, please? Or at least summarise? Regarding breakfast: If you move whatever N is working on to left of his plate and then push plate twd him, he’ll typically eat w/out realising he’s doing it. (But thank him when he finishes, so he notices he’s done the routine—we don’t want him starving at Hogwarts…!) Please give both our boys my love.

8AM

Letter

Helios Scamander to Hesiod Scamander

Dearest brother,

I’ve been made aware that Newt’s visit to the Ministry yesterday did not go the way either of you had hoped. Certainly, I heard the tale from Theseus who had had to wrangle it from Newt in fits and starts, but the boy keeps incredibly detailed notes about creatures or interactions that fascinate, inspire, or confound him; and I’d assume he’s classed yours as confounding. I’ll be sending him to the grocer at some point, during which time I plan to unashamedly steal his journal and read all about it myself. So you may rest assured the truth shan’t be twisted by the party line. (That’s a Muggle invention, Hesiod. Quite novel. Not that you would know.)

So, here is the heart of it, brother:

I did not think I needed to make this clear as I’ve already done so in the past… But I do not need your assistance in rearing my son. I have appreciated your efforts to show interest and befriend him this past year, but I’m afraid I will be putting a stop to that, as well. You will not lay hand or wand on him. You will not reprimand him. You will not disclose information—to him or anyone else—that Rowan and I have kept to ourselves for a reason. You will bring any and all concerns directly to me instead of breaking the heart of a child. Furthermore, Newt will be doing any future career preparation with myself or with Rowan; and you are not to even speak to him without one of us present.

Finally… Newt has requested he be allowed to write you an apology for his behaviour—he is a far better man than me, because I didn’t intend to make him do that—as well as “tell [you] some thoughts”. As Newt’s not typically one for telling anyone thoughts of any sort if they’re not specifically about animals, I’m hardly going to discourage him... However, because we will be using this as an opportunity to practice letter-writing and grammatics, I expect it may take a few days, as his Mum and I are both busy through Saturday.

A word of warning: Theseus has just left the flat with a look on his face that usually means trouble, so I do hope you enjoy the visit.

Your loving brother,

Helios

P.S. - Please send any mail beginning tomorrow evening to the Derbyshire address.

8:20AM

Floo Telegram

Helios Scamander to Rowan Scamander

Rowan — Thanks for suggestion. Breakfast eaten. (Who knew earthworm digestive systems were so compelling.) Regarding floo: Can’t while N’s around. But he’s more chipper now, so I’ll try to have T take him out for chips at tea.

The summary is that N repeatedly spoke out of turn + H rather severely punished him. Please don’t discuss in detail w N until home. T + I are handling it delicately and T’s off to MOM right now so there may be nothing of H left for you to worry about, anyway

[aubzikins]

Chapter 3: The Long Day

Everyone was sitting at the dining room table, grabbing their food, talking, and laughing. It was nice to just sit there and watch, but of course, the guys noticed I was watching and not participating. I was waiting for them to get their food before I grabbed some for myself, like I had done the night before, (you think I would have remembered). The next thing I know, each of them picked out a food item and put it on my plate. Within seconds, I had a full plate. “If you wait on us, there would be no food left Nia. We ARE growing kids.” Seungmin said laughing.

“I thought we established no waiting on us last night?” Chan said teasingly.

“Oh, sorry! Still not used to eating with a group so I was just trying to feel it out. Thank you, guys!” I nod and look down at my plate.

“Oh?” asked Felix. “Well now you have us to eat with!” he said with his usual big smile. I giggle but remember they leave tomorrow night for the next stop on their tour. I didn’t say anything to bring down the mood. “Mmhmm!” I respond as I put some food in my mouth. Everyone starts talking again about the games and who is going to go first and who is going to win.

Once everyone is done eating, I get up and excuse myself. I take my plate to the kitchen and then ask if I can grab a bottle of water. Lee Know is the first one to respond, “Of course, grab whatever you want!” I smile and thank him. I stand in the kitchen and drink my water trying to process it. Felix walks in and smiles. He truly is Mr. Sunshine; he just smiles, and you can feel the warmth radiating off him like a mid-summer day. “You doing okay Nia?” he asks.

“Oh… yeah! I’m good. Just collecting myself …” I smile.

“Yeah sorry, we can be a lot. You eventually get used to the chaos and then it’s the silence that can become overwhelming.” He said sympathetically.

“Ehh, I’m used to the silence. It’s been a very long time since I have been around a group of people and been comfortable. You guys feel like ‘home’ if that makes any sense.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I became a bit more embarrassed that I confessed that to Felix. We haven’t even known each other for 24 hours but I wasn’t lying when I said I was comfortable. I’ve been on my own since I was 17 and now being 25, I mainly just work and take care of Aeris. Working remotely allowed me to travel freely without worrying about losing my job. My sleeping habits also help adjust my time zones to my work’s time zones.

“Well, I am glad we feel like that to you. It’s nice to have that, and we are aware of how it feels. We do enjoy having you around. It’s fun and relaxing.” He smiles sweetly.

While I could get used to spending time with them, I know it won’t last. The fact that I even met them, let alone spent this MUCH time with them was a one in a gazillion chance. How did the girl who has never had anything but bad luck, basically hit the lottery? I zoned out a little trying to figure out everything in my head and then there was a little wave in front of me. Felix looked concerned waving his hand in front of me, “You okay Nia?”

I blinked and then shook my head a little, “Yeah, I’m good Felix, sorry was just thinking and kind of zoned. Sorry!”

Felix smiled slightly and grabbed my hand, “Nia… we still have the rest of today and even tomorrow to hang out. I know we leave tomorrow night but now I have your number and we will for sure keep in touch! We can even video chat.”

“I’m very thankful for that Felix.” I feel tears starting to form but I don’t want to start crying in front of him.

“Can I give you a hug?” he asked with his arms open.

“Of course! Who in their right mind would refuse you a hug!?” I laughed. He gave me his version of a bear hug and it was what I needed. Next thing I know, Chan walks in and goes “Hugs!? Can I get one!?” I nod and hold out my left arm, Chan comes up and gets in the hug with Felix and me. After a little while, we stopped hugging and went back into the dining room.

When we got back to the dining room table the rest of the group had already started a game of Uno. Ended up witnessing the battle of the Draw +2s and Draw +4s and I couldn’t help but laugh. Like the video that had gone around of Felix and Chan’s epic Uno battle, this just involved 6 people. Seungmin was excited to have been able to give Lee Know a Draw +4, just for Lee Know to have one as well. He placed his down and then looked at Han with a wide smile. “Uno! Draw 8, Hannie! Also, the color is now blue.”

Han looked worried at first but then pulled a blue Draw +2 card out. He looked to his left and Changbin had already slammed down his Green Draw +2 card. “I’m not drawing all those cards!” he said through giggles. Everyone turned and looked at Hyunjin who was next in line. “So unfair… but not for me!” as he puts down his Draw +2. The one who ended up having 14 cards was the Maknae himself. He looked at everyone stunned, “This is not how you treat your maknae!” pretending to pout. I.N. ended up skipping Seungmin as his punishment, which allowed Lee Know to place down his last card and win this round.

“I am glad I brought Uno for us to play,” I told Felix and Chan while everyone was laughing and cleaning up all the cards.

“Us too, right Felix?” Chan laughed. “Yeah, it was a great idea, poor little Maknae!” as he ruffled up I.N.’s hair.

“I don’t think that that’s the proper way to play Uno…” as he pulls up the tweet Hasbro had put out saying you can’t stack Draw +2’s.

“That’s always been the way I grew up playing, but I’m also old compared to you Innie.” I laughed.

“You are the same age as me, Nia…” Chan looked at me shocked I would say 25 is old.

“You both are almost half-52!!!” Seungmin yelled from the other side of the living room. The next thing you see is Mr. Kangaroo Bang Chan hopping over a couch to chase Seungmin down. Seungmin expected as much and made it into the bathroom, closing and locking the door with seconds to spare before Chan reached him. “You are so beyond lucky Minnie!” Chan yelled playfully at the door.

Chan walked back over to Felix and me. I was still laughing at the mad chaos of this living room. It was great to see them being so carefree. Changbin walked over to me with a big smile on his face already. “Pool?” he asked.

“Um, the pool that involves pool cues or floaties?” I asked. “You guys have both so you gotta be a bit more specific.”

Changbin points to the pool table. I nod and walk over with him. “I have no idea how to play pool honestly,” I told him.

Lee Know walks up, “I’ll help you.” He smiled.

“Thanks, Lee Know,” as I grabbed a pool cue. Changbin racks the cue balls in the middle of the other end and then puts the white cue ball where it’s supposed to be. “Ladies first…” he says with a slight bow.

“Why thank you, good sir…” I step up to the table. Changbin showed me how to stand and how to break. I was able to hit the cue balls and make them scatter. None went in but he told me it was not bad for my first time playing. Chan and Hyunjin came over to watch Changbin and I go head-to-head. Felix, Han, Seungmin, and IN all started singing karaoke in the living room. When Changbin went to take his turn, Lee Know proceeded to crouch in front of where Changbin was aiming and making faces. This resulted in giggles from everyone else and Changbin telling Lee Know that he was cheating in between laughing. I am doing terrible at this game and Lee Know offers to “play on my behalf” which ends up in even more protests from Changbin. Lee Know just scowled at Changbin and said, “You cheated first by going against a person who’s never played before!” I just shook my head laughing and watched them go a few rounds of pool. Sometimes popping over into the living room to sing along with the half doing karaoke.

Chan’s alarm goes off on his cell and he gets up, “Who wants to help with dinner? I got the grill.”

“I can help,” I say smiling.

“You’re a guest Nia, no need to help.” He said.

“Chan if you don’t let me help, I am going to feel guilty,” I said with a pout.

“Fine, fine, fine, I guess you can help Lee Know and Felix make some sides.” He turns to the rest of the members, “I need you guys to get everything else situated so we can have dinner in a bit.”

After a few “okays” everyone is off doing what they are supposed to do. I help Lee Know and Felix in the kitchen working on sides for dinner.

“Hey Felix, I know y’all leave tomorrow night. Will you guys have time in the morning for breakfast?” I asked.

“Yeah, if we wake up at a decent time, we should have plenty of time for breakfast. Do you want to come over and eat with us?” he asked smiling.

“I was wondering if y’all would be okay with me making breakfast for you. It's my thanks for allowing me to come to hang out with you guys for so long and whatnot.” I avoided eye contact because I didn’t want to tear up while asking.

“That would be great! Ya know you could just stay here for the night, and we could wake up early and make breakfast together.” He says.

“Oh, I couldn’t intrude on y’all like that. You have already allowed me to be here so much as it is.” I say shaking my head.

“It would make more sense for you to stay here Nia. Less travel and you’d be able to wake up bright and early to cook like you want.” Lee Know chimes in.

“Well, it does make sense, but I also have to go check on Aeris,” I said looking at Lee Know.

Lee Know stops chopping up the cabbage and looks at me, “Aeris?”

“Oh, Aeris is my cat. She’s about a year old. Wanna see a picture?” I smile.

“Does he want to see a picture? Did you ask the number one cat person if he wants to see a picture of your cat? Of course, he does” Felix says laughing.

“Ahh sorry”, I pull out my phone and show a picture of Aeris on my blanket that she stole with her tongue sticking out. “This is Aeris. She likes to steal my blanket all the time.”

Lee Knows smiles and calls for Chan. Changbin watches the grill while Chan comes to the kitchen.

“Can Nia stay in the guest room tonight? She would like to make breakfast in the morning. Felix and I are going to go back with her to her place so she can grab some stuff and check on her kitten.” He says matter of factly.

Chan looks between Lee Know, Felix, and me. “I mean I don’t see why not; we would just need to check with everyone to see if they are okay with that. I'll be right back.” He turns and walks back out to talk to the others.

“Lee Know!!!” I am completely shocked that we went from 0 to 100 so quickly. He just smiles and goes back to cutting up cabbage like nothing happened. Felix is laughing to himself and trying to avoid eye contact with me, so he doesn’t laugh any harder.

Chan comes back over with a smile on his face. “Everyone else is fine with it. You have already shown that you are genuinely here for us as people, and they are all very comfortable around you. Seungmin and Hyunjin offered to come take over here so you can head to your place and get some items. The driver will be here in about 10 minutes.”

“Oh wow, this is happening,” I say quietly to myself. Next thing I know, I have Lee Know and Felix with me heading to my house. It was already getting dark, so they were able to conceal themselves with hats and masks. When we walked into my house Lee Know whistles.

“Your house is very nice Nia,” he says but then he stops in his tracks when he hears Aeris meowing. “Aeris?”

I nodded and walked over to pick her up. She gives me a few head bumps and rubs her cheek on my nose. “Well, hello there my kitty mrow mrows.” She immediately starts purring and looks at Lee Know. Felix scratches her head, and she enjoys it but continues to stare at Lee Know. Felix giggles and I hand Aeris over to Lee Know. “Aeris, Lee Know. Lee Know, Aeris.” He takes Aeris and it’s like the two of them have been best friends for ages. My jaw drops, “You little traitor! I’ll remember that when you want wet food at 3 am again.” Lee Know laughs. I give them a small tour of the downstairs and then excuse myself while I go pack a bag. After getting all my stuff together, I come back downstairs. Lee Know is sitting on the floor playing with Aeris while Felix is walking around looking at my paintings and certificates on the wall.

“I just gotta double-check the water levels for Aeris and give her some wet food and we should be good to go,” I say as I walk into the kitchen.

“You have your master’s degree, Nia?” Felix asks.

“Oh yeah, I got that a couple of years ago,” I said. “I graduated at 17, finished my bachelor’s degree at 21, and then my master’s right before I turned 24.” As soon as I opened a can of wet food, Aeris came running to the kitchen. This led to an “aww” from Lee Know as his new bestie traded him in for a meal. He got up and walked over to my little office area and saw my kpop collection on the wall.

“So, you are a STAY, nice collection. I see you have some Ateez in here, don’t let Seungmin know.” He laughed.

“Well, I started listening to y’all first but then I saw a Tik Tok of Seongwha. It truly does start with just wanting to learn their names. And yes, I’d be in trouble with Seungmin AND Hongjoong if either knew I listened to the other.” I was giggling.

“I’m telling!” Lee Know smiled.

“You better not, if you ever wanna see your new bestie again…” I threatened. No idea why I even threatened that, it's not like they are ever going to come here again. I guess my smile dropped because Felix walked over and hugged me. I gave him a slight smile and then determined we needed to go before they found my photocard collection. Luckily so far, I have not told them who my bias was or my wrecker and did not plan on having this discussion. “Alrighty, I’m ready to head back!”

“But I haven’t figured out who your biases are yet!” Felix whined playfully.

“And you’re not going to. Let’s go!” as I lead them to the front door. Aeris ran up to Lee Know, probably sensing we were leaving, and loved on him a bit. The two things that can make Lee Know smile are Han and cats. I pick Aeris up and give her some love before we are out the door and back in the vehicle on the way to their place.

The car ride back seemed to be a lot quicker. Mainly because Felix was asking me what I wanted to make and making sure we had the items in place. Luckily, they had everything I wanted to make so it would be simple to do in the morning. It would also help them out by using all the extra groceries they had before they had to leave tomorrow evening.

When we get back to their place, Chan is finishing up grilling the last bit of meat. I.N. offers to take my duffel bag and put it in the spare room for me. When he comes back, everyone is getting settled to eat dinner. This time, I don’t wait for them all to take their food first. I get right in there with everyone and pile food on my plate. I learned my lesson earlier. I see Chan smiling at me out of the corner of my eye.

“Progress,” he says a bit on the quieter end. I smile and nod at him. During dinner, they asked me a lot of questions about where I grew up, my siblings, my family, etc. I returned the questions to them, and they seemed surprised. I knew quite a bit, but I didn’t know everything. I did, however, want them to be able to talk about this stuff as a normal conversation. Which they seemed to appreciate. After dinner, we all cleaned up. Chan went to stop me, but Felix gave him a look and Chan went silent. It was nice being able to help.

“Wanna go sit by the fire out back?” Han asked me after everything was done.

“Sure!” I responded.

Han handed me a small throw blanket and we went outside and sat around the small fire pit that Seungmin had lit already. One by one, the rest of the guys slowly trickled their way out to the fire pit area. It was relaxing to listen to them talk about anything and everything. Before we knew it, the fire had died down and it was after 10 pm.

“I guess we should all head to bed, we have a busy day tomorrow!” Chan announced. Everyone got up and each one hugged me. It was sweet. Once they all hugged me and said good night, Chan and Felix walked me to the guest bedroom.

“Here’s your room for the night Nia, it has its bathroom too. Chan went ahead and put some shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in there if you want to freshen up. There are also a few towels.” Felix pointed towards the bathroom.

“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it.” I smiled.

“My room is right over here, if you need anything, just text or come and knock,” Chan said while pointing to the room next to the guest room.

“And my room is right next to his. I set my alarm for 6 am, which should give us plenty of time to make breakfast!” Felix says.

“Awesome, thank you guys again. I will see you bright and early Felix.” I give them each a hug and then close the door as they head off to their rooms.

I sit on the bed and take a deep calming breath. I need to take a shower because I smell like smoke. I pulled out my phone, checked on Aeris through my security cameras at my house, and then I decided to text Chan and then Felix. I thanked them both for being amazing and for their hospitality. Felix doesn’t respond, possibly because he is already zonked out. Chan, however, responds quickly.

Chris: You are very welcome. Thank you for being you, Nia. It truly is our treat to have you here to hang out. You have helped everyone relax and enjoy their time before we are constantly on the run or doing tour stuff.

I smile at the text and then go hop in the shower. After I got out and put on a comfy pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, I figured it was time for me to go to bed. While I did not want this night to end, I was beyond tired. As soon as I put my headphones in and lay down, I fell fast asleep.

[ramblingsofavessel]

January 14, 2025

Yes, I know its not been a full 24 hours since my last post, and frankly, I woke up, so to me it feels like a full day has passed. Not that anyone will read these, so to whom I'm making these excuses for is beyond me. Maybe just for myself.

I say I woke up, which implies I slept. However, as well rested as I feel mentally, physically I am fully aware that I was not, in fact, asleep. Marissa was awake, likely saving the world from aliens, or whatever fun things her security clearance allows that mine does not. I tell people I'm not, but perhaps I am a bit bitter that my sleeping self gets to go on universe saving adventures while all I get to do is take care of the body in an underground complex and complain on the internet.

I suppose if my clearance was higher and I knew more things, it would be harder for me to put everything in a blog, without getting a stern talking to from my keeper. Not that I'd complain, he is a very attractive man, in that comely sort of way. He has a soft face that still manages to crinkle when he smiles, which can be comforting, I guess. Certainly better than my previous handlers, who were elderly ex military men who I feel got bored at the job way too easily. I behave well enough, I know what happens if I don't. I don't think they'd be too happy if I explained further, though.

Now Matthew, my current caretaker, is quite better than the last I've had. He's the one who convinced me to do this, saying how it might be good for my mental health to get my feelings out. No one's ever truly cared for my mental health before, so it came a bit of a shock when he suggested this. Usually they just keep me from ending my life, and anything else doesn't matter that much. Sure I get whatever I want if I request it, but I guess this is the first time someone in real life has seen me as more than just a vessel for Marissa. It's quite nice, actually. If he wasn't being paid to take care of me I would almost feel butterflies over his care.

Perhaps I've just been alone too long. I have reached the age where those hired to watch me are no longer much older than I am myself. It was a lot easier to distance myself from the humans in charge when I was a spirited teenager and they my caretaker.

Matthew is... Around my age, I'd assume. No younger than thirty and no older than forty. Age has worn its way into his face, although, you could argue that that isn't that common for someone who is only thirty, but in this slice of the universe you tend to age much more rapidly, as the stress on your shoulders weighs heavy on your skin. Heck, I bet I'd be quite pretty if not for all the years of stress and attempts to extract Marissa hadn't worn scar after scar and sag after sag on my skin. If I were more vain I would put in a request for some cosmetic surgery, but who would see it? Matthew? If he is disgusted by my appearance he surely doesn't show it. Its refreshing to be around someone with such positive professionalism.

Comprehensive scanning and testing has revealed that Marissa inhabits the left hemisphere of my brain. She is not a creative being, whatever she is, so she has no use for the right side. Or so they theorize. Sometimes I tried leaving questions for her to answer, trying to have a conversation with her. She never responds. I don't think I matter much to her beyond her being able to use me when I sleep. As long as I maintain my health and sanity, I really don't think she cares one way whether I live or die.

There was a time in my late teens where they spent every effort possible trying to separate us. I heard that once they had gotten a scalpel next to my brain after cracking into my skull that I supposedly opened my eyes mid procedure, and shook my head.

They stopped trying after that, but only covered everything with an external metal plate, in case they wanted to get in there again. It's not the comfiest thing in the world, but its been over a decade since they last attempt, so I've gotten used to it. Polishing it and keeping it clean has just become another part of my daily routine.

Anyways, I've rambled enough for one day. I think. Matthew is on break, and said he was going to bring me back something nice from the place he gets lunch. He really doesn't need to, as there is a private chef hired for this complex for me and whoever else is unfortunate enough to call this place home. However, I can't say I'm not a bit excited for whatever he brings me, I can count on one hand the amount of gifts I've been given while living here. And no, gifts to Marissa do not count.

Well, talk to you later, whoever is reading this.

-Jane