#and at my last job i was like. constantly doing something or other. never particularly rushed or on an impossible or even hard to hit time

[gilfrespecter]

I documented 700 important-to-me tiktoks before the ban. Which started an hour and a half earlier than it was supposed to. But I did it

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

The Tiefling Bachelors Taking Care of Sick! Reader Getting Treatment

A/N: This was sitting in my drafts, finished months ago, but I guess I never posted it? Oh well, it’s here now! 

No one asked for this but it came to me as I was getting infused the other day. I really wanted Zevlor to manifest out of thin air and hold my hand  😔. Anyway, without further ado… Here we go!

Characters: Dammon/Reader; Rolan/Reader; Zevlor/Reader

Word Count: 1.1k 

TW: Brief discussions of illness, some fantasy medical talk

Dammon- 

Dammon is probably the most fussy of the trio. He’s bumbling around the tent, ensuring you have enough blankets and water. Or do you want tea? Juice? Whatever it is, love, name it and he will fetch it for you.

He means to be helpful although his nervous waiting on you does create an air of anxiety in the room. 

If he gets too manic, the healers have to send him out on an ‘errand’, so that he can collect his nerves and so you have time to yourself. 

When he returns, Dammon is much calmer, having been cornered and given a pep talk by one of the elder tieflings or your companions outside. 

He’ll sit across from you, and distract you by showing you his latest outlines/blueprints for swords and lathes and such. 

If you’re particularly stressed, or truly not feeling well due to the side-effects of the treatment, he might even show you his jewelry designs. Dammon was, of course, planning to give them to you as a present after you’d finished your treatment, but in the meantime, he’d like you to keep them in mind to have something forward to look to. 

If you’re sleepy, he’ll just stay at your side while you rest, sketching in his book or making idle chats with the healer. 

Dammon excels at ‘parallel play’ kind of dates. He quite enjoys it when the two of you are each doing their respective thing within a shared space. He’s more than comfortable amusing himself while you just chill out right next to him. 

Of course, before you leave, he asks the healers a million questions, scrambling down all their answers. How long will this last? What side effects should you look out for? What happens if things get worse? He wants to be prepared after they take their leave, and he sees it as his responsibility to take care of you as you recuperate. 

He’s really so sweet, like a little puppy dog. He’s not always the most helpful, and he has a tendency to get in the way, but his efforts never fail to lift your spirits at the end of the day.

Rolan-

Rolan is such a stickler for being an oppositional brat all the time. He gives everyone around him whiplash by turning into the most overbearing parental figure. You’d think he’d been possessed if it wasn’t for that trademark smirk of his. 

He’s constantly making you drink. No, he doesn’t care that you’re not thirsty, the healer said to stay hydrated throughout the process. And no, he doesn’t care that it means you have to get up to pee every 15 minutes. Urinary frequency is a small price to pay! Now be a good patient and drink your chamomile tea without any more complaining, yeah?

He watches the healers like a hawk, mentally recording their every word/move. He’s not a cleric or druid, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely naive to healing magic. He wants to make sure whatever spells or potions you’re being given are up to his standard. 

And if the healing isn’t magical in nature... Oh boy, he’s going to be even more of a pill about it. He still hovers of course. But he also makes the occasional ‘helpful’ suggestion like: ��I know a spell that could do that faster’, ‘Herbs are nothing compared to the power of the Weave’. The healers just roll their eyes and work around him. 

If he gets really grouchy, you’re gonna have to put him in a time-out. If not for your sake, then for the poor healers who are just trying to do their job. Rolan argues for a moment, but ultimately agrees, leaving to gather himself. 

When he comes back you can tell either Cal or Lia have spoken some sense into him, since he’s calmed down a bit. Rolan will sit with you, read to you, hold your hand if you beg ask, he might even perform a few tricks for you if you’re feeling up to it. 

He ushers the healers away as soon as they're done, wanting to just be alone with you. He puts up a tough exterior, but deep down he’s afraid. He cares for you so much. You, Cal, and Lia are his family, he feels it's his job to protect you, but try as he might he cannot protect you from your illnesses, and that hurts him deeply. 

You’ll need to comfort him once all this is all over. It’s as much an ordeal for him as it is for you.

Zevlor-

Zevlor is a worry-wart, bless his old paladin heart. His mind is always racing with endless possibilities- about the tieflings, about the grove, about you… It can be a lot for the commander to handle. 

But because Zevlor is a paladin and former hellrider, he has a good amount of experience working under pressure. He knows how to keep a level head and act on what is good for those around him, unlike what seems easiest to accomplish. 

He’s a very disciplined man, and he tries to get that discipline extended to you as you heal. He sets up a regime, for diet, exercise, and socializing catered especially to your needs and current abilities. He wants you to utilize this time to maximize your healing, and just let yourself trust that you are doing all you can to take care of yourself. 

He trusts the healers implicitly, knowing their expertise is much better suited to you and your current priorities. He’ll cater his regime around their recommendations, taking into accommodation your current feelings/moods of course. 

He writes out instructions for you to read while he’s away, busy tending to his duties. In the event he’s especially worried about watching over you, he’ll send Tilly or another one of his soldiers to check in on you periodically. 

Zevlor would love nothing more than to spend the entire day with you, keeping you safe in his embrace, but he’s wise enough to understand that even amidst these kinds of things, life must go on. He cannot abandon his duties as leader and you cannot abandon your life. 

Zevlor tries to maintain the status quo as best as possible, he doesn’t want your illness and treatments to entirely define your life, just as he wishes Elterel will not solely define his. 

Once all is said and done, he comes to find you, a warm broth in his hands. He settles down next to you as you sip your meal slowly, his tail coiling around your waist keeping you close to him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, you don’t need to. It’s clear to you what’s in Zevlor’s heart. 

The two of you just sit silently together, enjoying each other's company, as you brace yourselves for yet another new dawn. 

I hope you enjoyed! 

If you like my work, please consider Buying Me A Coffee!

And most importantly, please Like and REBLOG! 

[writing-until-i-drop]

Rough Sex | Javy "Coyote" Machado x reader | wc: 1,274

No use of y/n | 18+ Minors DNI

Warnings! rough sex, biting, dirty talk, spanking, lmk if I missed anything

a/n: thank god for @closetspngirl because this piece kicked my ass and I debated skipping it and hoping no one noticed but you convinced me to finish it

Ao3

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

When Coyote transitioned to a two seater jet he knew he’d be getting a backseater. What he hadn’t expected was you. You had walked into the Hard Deck wearing a sundress that had made his mouth run dry and when you had figured out he was your new pilot, you had greeted Coyote with a hug and a key on the cheek. Then the jackals (his friends) had descended. 

Hangman was first up to bat, trying to charm his way into your pants but you had shot him down. Next was Rooster, who’s cheesy pick-up lines were more effective at turning your cheeks pink than Coyote would have liked. Phoenix had you under her spell with a few whispered words in your ear but she still struck out. Fanboy and Payback had kept things light, shooting for the friendzone and hitting their target, and Bob had just given you a wave. It irritated Coyote how much his squadmates wanted your attention which caught him off guard.

Coyote had never been directly responsible for another person’s safety in the air. Phoenix had warned him that it would be a new experience, what he hadn’t realized was just how…protective he would feel over you. Hangman claimed it was more possessive than protective but Coyote denied everything. He wasn’t possessive. He just didn’t like it when other guys talked to you, or put their hands on you, and he wasn’t particularly fond of the way men looked at you when the team went out for drinks. 

He wanted to be the only one you focused on, especially when you were together. And for the most part, you were good at that. In the air you were constantly in his ear, updating him on navigation and the weapons system. Coyote had assumed that having a backseater in his ear would be annoying but he found himself asking you questions just to hear you talk. The fact that you had moved into the apartment across the hall from him was a bonus, Coyote had helped you finish unpacking and offered to car pool, reveling in the fact that even if 

Right now you were sitting with Phoenix, chatting animatedly with your hands, leaning against the wall at the Hard Deck. When he heard what you were saying, he nearly dropped his beer.

“Honestly, you wouldn’t think it’d be this hard to find a guy willing to fuck the shit out of me.” Phoenix cackled, throwing her head back as if that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard but Coyote didn’t find it funny. He looked around, no one else was listening in except for poor Bob whose cheeks were cherry red.

“What about that guy I set you up with last week?” Last week? You had gone on a date last week? You groaned,

“He wanted to be all kissy and affectionate which is weird with a guy you don’t really know, at least for me.” 

“As much as I hate to say it, Bagman could probably get the job done,” Absolutely not. Coyote put down his beer, approaching your table. He liked the way your cheeks flushed pink when you caught his eye,

“Ready to go home, sweetheart?” Your brows scrunched in confusion, normally the two of you stayed much longer, but since we was your ride, you nodded, saying goodbye to the team. Coyote took a chance, pulling you into his side, his grip tight on your waist.

“Jav, what’s going on?” 

“You told Phoenix you needed something,” Your little gasp was enough to break the last of Coyote’s restraint. “And I’m the only one who gets to give you what you need. If you’ll let me.” Coyote pushed you against the side of his car, lips attacking your neck. You said you didn’t want kisses and affection, you wanted something rough, and he’d be damned if he let anyone else do it. “What do you say, sweetheart?” 

You moaned, tilting your head to give him better access, spurring Javy on. He nipped at your neck, savoring the sounds you made for him.

“Is that a yes?” 

“Do you need a written invitation, Jav?” You pushed his shoulders but didn’t let him get far, gripping his shirt. The look you gave him was dark and flirtatious, you had used it on him several times before. Your favorite pastime seemed to be teasing him but he never thought you meant anything by it because you’d laugh it off the second you said it, falling back into normal conversation. “Am I going to have to walk you through this? Should I go back in there and see if Bagman can get the job done?” 

“Get in the fucking car,” Javy snapped and after a second, you complied. 

“Fuck,” Your moans were muffled by the pillows on Javy’s bed as he plowed into you from behind. He was gripping your thighs tight enough to bruise, raising them to the perfect angle that let him hit deep inside of you with every thrust. You would never be able to look at your pilot the same way again, not when he was rearranging your insides while growling in your ear.

“You have been driving me crazy for fucking months, do you know that?” You couldn’t respond, your mind focused on the feeling of his cock filling you completely. “Letting the other guys flirt with you when you’re mine, all fucking mine, arent’ you?” God, being his sounded like a dream. “My backseater, my responsibility, my girl.”

“Yours,” You whined, “Spank me.” Javy didn’t hesitate, bringing his calloused hand down on your ass. He did it again and again, your ass stinging, Javy wasn’t holding back and you couldn’t have been happier. Fuck he felt good. He was doing everything that every other guy you had slept with thus far had failed to do.

“I’m the only one who gets to do this, do you hear me?” He pulled out and you instantly felt empty, crying out. “Tell me what I need to here, sweetheart, tell me the truth.” Javy rolled you onto your back, stroking himself over you. 

“Only you, all yours, please,” You were babbling but you meant it. This was all you had wanted for months, ever since you had first walked into the Hard Deck and found out that he was your pilot. “Javy, please. I need you.” 

“Good girl,” Javy thrust into you, leaning over your body. You were writhing beneath him, desperate for your release. He captured one of your nipples between his teeth and you cried out, scratching down his back. “Play with yourself, sweetheart. I want to feel that pretty cunt squeezing my cock and I want to feel it now.” You reached down, rubbing your clit, and it didn’t take long to send you over the edge.

Your orgasm was earth shattering, you couldn’t tell if you were screaming but your throat was burning. Javy kissed your neck, spilling inside of you, fucking his hot cum inside of you with short, hard thrusts. When he pulled out of you he rolled onto his back beside you, bringing you into his side.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Javy asked as you snuggled into his waiting arms. You rested a hand on the back of his neck, 

“Can I get a kiss finally?” Javy hadn’t kissed you once the entire time and you were in dire need of his lips on yours.

“I thought kissy, affectionate sex wasn’t what you wanted?” 

“Not with other guys but you’re my pilot,” You pulled his head down, brushing your lips over his. “And I want you to kiss me.”

Taglist: @wanderingsoul6261 @halflifejess @kyemna @alipap3 @yutangwl @teacupsandtopgun @glenpowellluver @closetspngirl @that-one-fangirl69 @starshinegrl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @sarah-bear706318 @shanimallina87 @atuman @carolina-on-my-mind03 @winelover27 @cherrycola27 @cevansbaby-dove @glenpowellsvline @runawaybaby3 @helloitzholly @bigstrongblackheart

If your tag isn't working ^ make sure you're discoverable on searches in your settings 🥰

[rando-d]

Ultrakill Review: Turn Back Now

"Better late than never ammiright chat"

Ultrakill is one of the best shooter games I've ever played. I'm am no expert on shooters, I've played a good amount. I hate "tatical" shooters, which is why shooters like Valorant have repulsed me, whereas games like Fortnite and Team Fortress 2 have been my addiction. Heck, even in 2016, I liked Overwatch (obviously not anymore), but there was a time. Because "tactical" shooters just equate to camping around in one place waiting for someone to fight you, and doing anything energetic or running around the place is severely discouraged and games like those actively avoid rewarding players for risky play.

Tactical Shooters Suck, Ultrakill isn't one

Games like Team Fortress 2 and Fortnite are so insanely fun to me because those are shooters that ENCOURAGE you to fight people and have a risky playstyle, while giving players the option to camp, it moreso discourages it and grinding through entire lobbies feels just so satisfying. That being said, you can probably guess that Ultrakill would easily be something I would fall in love with, and you'd be perfectly correct on that. Ultrakill is everything I love about shooters, with 0 of the problems. Heck, this may be even my favorite shooter. While I'm not particularly good at the game, it is so insanely fun, and dying in the game always feels like my fun and not some sort of unbalanced enemy or really weird game design choice.

Combat

Of course, the game isn't finished and has 2 more chapters out of its 9 chapters, but those last 2 chapters could be awful, and I still would love the game. I have most of the game here. I could just ignore those last 2 chapters (again, assuming it's bad, which is highly unlikely). One of the reasons that it's unlikely is due to the games great combat system, I criticize games for cheap combat a lot, if you're making an action game, you need some good combat, and it takes a lot to impress me on that department. Ultrakill did just that. Impress me. It has a wide variety of weapons to choose from, and every level of the game's somehow feels designed around those weapons. There are so many different enemies, each with their own unique weaknesses, good play and risky movement where you utilize all the tools at your desposal is rewarded with style points, just seeing that "ULTRAKILL" combo sign hits different.

Movement

Ultrakill, while simple in terms of how you can move around the map, is really fun and gets the job well. In the beauty of its simplicity, you can perform lots of cool tricks that made me feel like an edgy teen all over again. Again, the style point system works well and constantly dashing to the goal in a short period of time while making sure to kill all the enemies and doing it all in a style is a pretty daunting and time consuming yet fun goal to achieve for all levels. Not a single level in Ultrakill kept me bored aside from the secret missions. And yes, the movement is somewhat simple in Ultrakill, and while I have seen that there is cool stuff you can do, I can't help but feel that I wish there's a bit more that could be done to improve the game's movement and add more to it while not taking away from its simplicity.

Presentation

We're in an era where people yield nostolgia to things like the N64, and PS1, but honestly, I'd compare this games graphics to Doom, that's despite the fact that the game goes out of its way to tell you that it's inspired by PS1 graphics. The game also goes out of its way to make its creatures disgusting and egregious to look it, really conveying hell's warfare to you well. The game does a great job at conveying some of the story through its environment. enviormental storytelling is always a great way of helping to tell a game story. The music is also great, the chaotic nature of the game just blended perfectly with the music style of Breakcore, I would not pick any other genre of music for a game of the kind, especially the boss themes, that's when the game really locks in. But, I will say, while all the enviorments do a great job of distinguishing each other while keeping the games disturbing feel, that can't be said for gluttony. It honestly was a bit too gross to look at, but apparently, the games developer stated that won't be of concern since he's planning on redesigning it, which I'm looking forward to.

Verdict

Ultrakill is one of, if not the best, shooter video games that I have ever played and pushes the genre of indie shooters to major new heights. I'm excited to see the game's story end, and I'll continue to replay the hell out of it for the future, it's one of the most addicting experiences I've ever had the pleasure of, you should turn back now because this game will throw you into a loop which you won't be able to escape, trying to break through that mess is crazy.

[icarus-does-fall]

Alr alr

Simon x piercer/tattooer reader

I did my best to make my idea a thing 🤷‍♂️

Dub-con!! Trans Simon but it's not a major plot point, might make another one where it is

I just have brainrot and productive energy

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

Simon “Ghost” Riley, a simple man. A stoic and dealy man. A man who was claimed to have no emotions, no connections. To be a ghost. Yet whenever you were around, he seemed to be less of a ghost, he seemed to be human.

Then there was you. You were bright and filled with life, colourful to say the least as you were covered in tattoos and piercing, after all that was your job. The cherry on top, you loved- sometimes you loved too much and got yourself hurt.

He was spending almost all his money on booking appointments at your shop, he never had valid reasons to see you outside your parlour just to see you, feel you. Yet you never minded, Simon was polite, while he didn't always hold the best conversations he never made you feel uncomfortable like some of your other clients did.

Plus maybe you had started to develop a slight crush on the rugged soldier that was constantly spending his free time with you instead of going out with his mates. He made you laugh, smile, and he had an oddly safe feeling about him.

Simon had been away on deployment for nearly a year and the first thing he did when he got back was book something with you. It was a piercing, and one of a particularly sensitive nature- He was asking to get a jacob's ladder done.

You almost didn't agree. You liked the guy and piercing his dick? That seemed to cross a few too many lines, yes it was your job but you were still human and sometimes it is difficult to separate work from life. Simon instead though, he trusted you, you had the experience with it, and he wanted that specific piercing done.

So stealing your emotions and doing your best to lock them all away in a cage so deep within you it wouldn’t be easily found you waited for Simon's appointment time, getting everything ready in the back room- You doubted the man wanted to expose himself to everyone else in the shop… A low blush rose to your cheeks as your thoughts tried to wander about.

What if he liked the public scene?

After all, you didn't know much about Simon other than what simple conversation would allow. He had a dog- A german shepherd. He smoked, sometimes you’d smoke with him. His best mate was named Soap and he drank whiskey. And he was possibly trans? One of the first tattoos you did for him was scar coverups on his chest, but you weren't going to ask any questions. Scar cover ups were one of your specialties. Most people came to you for those types of tattoos specifically.

But his more personal details? Those you weren’t sure about.

Quicker than you thought the time for Simon's appointment showed up. He walked into the shop, looming like a shadow, before seeing you at the counter and his entire mood lightened up.

“Hey lovie.”

You rolled your eyes with a soft laugh. “Hey again Si, fill out your paperwork, I’ll get everything set up in the back for you. And how's that last tat treating you? It heal okay?”

Simon shrugged and then rolled up his sleeve, the newest addition was still slightly red but the tattoo seemed to have healed without issue. It was a bundle of wisteria flowers, one of the few tattoos that you were given full control over. It was just a space filler.

“It’s fine, the lads thought it was too… girly ‘suppose but I like it just fine.”

You pouted playfully while heading to the back room. “Aw ‘just fine’? Thought we’ve moved into actual compliments before you left, you get tired of talking all that much on deployment or somethin?”

Simon merely huffed as he filled out his paperwork and then placed it on the counter. He liked talking to you, he did. Just sometimes his words failed him.

After a few minutes you were ready and called him back. He listened like a well trained dog, raising from where he was sitting without a work and went to where you were. If he had a tail it would be wagging.

Simon closed the door behind him and simply stood there a bit awkwardly as you had just finished wrapping the chair for him to sit on. Your face flushed slightly, it wouldn’t have been noticeable if Simon was as trained as he was to notice the small details.

“You gotta strip Si-” Now your blush was noticeable, it flared brightly. “Not! Not completely! But you gotta lose the trousers before you sit down-”

Simon chuckled slightly at your flustered state. And whether he meant to or if it was all subconsciously done, he slowly undid his belt and took off his pants. You had to force yourself not to stare at him. He took his spot on the chair and got comfortable to the point it’d be easier for you to pierce him.

You rolled your chair in between his legs, your tray of tools right next to you. You looked up at him, doing your damnedest to stay professional. “This will hurt, like… a lot Simon.”

He nodded and sighed out softly, he was thanking every god possible right now that he had his mask on to hide his own flushed face. “I know, go ahead.”

Now Simon wasn’t huge by any means, but he wasn’t small either, but he was girthy. Something that sparked your interest though was the scar lines down there. He unknowingly sent butterflies straight to your stomach as you tried not to blatantly stare at his half exposed body.

With a steady hand but a shaky resolve you took his dick into your hand, tentatively wiping it down with a alcohol wipe and then marking where the piercings needed to go. You were doing three this session. Simon tensed up under your touch and a soft groan slipped past his lips as you began. You froze, mistaking that groan for discomfort and not something else.

“You alright Si, something feel wrong?”

He merely shook his head and then nodded, gesturing for you to continue. You did.

So you lined up the needle with the first mark and went through the skin.

“Fuck! Jesus lovie! Can't give a guy some warning before you stab ‘em?”

You chuckled sheepishly. “Sorry about that Si… First one alway hurts more than the rest, and we still gotta put the barbell in too.”

“Christ-” Simon sighed and laid his head back against the hair, he was trying not to pant or focus on how your hand felt wrapped around his dick- Or the thoughts that followed. He doubted you even liked him, plus it was damn near unprofessional to think like that while you were working.

You apologised once more before putting the barbell into the first piercing, Simon let out another groan as you did that, and then you wiped down the piercing, cleaning it of the small bits of blood that’d showed up. Then you moved onto the second one. Simon's groans got a bit louder and he was biting his lip to hold back the moans that threatened to slip out. The third one went in without issue as well, but by now Simons dick was aching- From both the piercings and how you had been handling him.

He was all but dripping precum with each new piercing and touch of your hand, which you both were trying to ignore. Your heart was racing and your face flushed, Simon was refusing to look in your direction as you worked.

As you pulled away after finishing cleaning him and then took your gloves off you casted a glance over towards Simon. “How's it look? Everything feel okay?”

Simon laid still for a few moments after you began your clean up before he sat up slightly and looked to see how the piercings were done, forgetting just for a moment that you were in the room and ran a hand across the piercings.

He unintentionally came with that action of his. All over the chair and his thighs. He groaned out quietly and moaned and then he blushed hard, becoming nothing but a flustered and stuttering mess.

“Fuck lovie- That wasnt supposed to, ain’t mean to… ‘M not that used to having it yet… I'm sorry, fuck im sorry lovie, makin a mess all over your work stuff not professional at all.”

Your face had gotten bright red and you’d froze in your spot, your eyes couldn’t help but to be drawn towards Simon's leaking dick which was now covered in cum. His words pulled out of your mini trance and hurriedly gave him a few paper towels to clean up with, but he was too focused on apologising to realise you were trying to help.

Taking a breath you tried to steel your nerves and then placed your hand on Simon's calf. It's what was closest to you and you didn’t want to make him- or you comfortable. “Si, calm down- it’s okay honestly… You think you're the first guy who's been a little sensitive after this type of piercing?”

Simon's blush was now visible, even underneath his mask, and he was still avoiding looking at you as he cleaned himself up. His words were mumbled and hard to hear and he was still slightly hard making things worse. “Well… Probably the first to like you as ya do it… As it happens…”

You still heard him though, and you bit your lip while trying to find the words. What were you supposed to do? Admit your possible feelings while he was half naked and covered in cum? Well… you probably shouldn’t but you wanted it. He was a sight to see like that, hell he was whining and desperate for forgiveness. That sight, those feelings, it made your stomach coil.

So what did you do? Breaking all your rules, every boundary you’d been trying to set this entire session, you touched him without having a job to do. Your hands traced along his bottom surgery scars- Simons hands stilled and he looked up at you confused.

“Wha-”

Your hands trailed down to caress his dick and gently you milked out the rest of his come. Simon's eyes fluttered closed and he was reduced to a moaning mess. “L-lovie, what are you doing? Wh-why? What?”

You continued to stroke Simon's dick, careful to avoid the piercings you just placed, technically, for everything to heal correctly you shouldn't have been doing that but you were being careful. “Just wanna show you it's okay, nothing to be sorry for, yaknow?”

Another strangled moan fell past Simon's lips and his dick was twitching in your hands, you looked up at him through your lashes and then leaned forward, kitten licking his tip for a few moments before fully licking him clean. One of his hands ended up threaded through your hair, not wanting you to pull away just yet until there wasn't any cum left.

Finally when you pulled away after he’d been cleaned up, he was gripping onto the chairs armrests and panting softly, you on the other hand while blushing looked similar to how a cat looks after catching the canary.

“Well damn lovie… Fuckin hell… Wasn’t expecting that type of aftercare-”

“You taste pretty good Si…” You laughed softly and licked your lips, “Can I get another taste later?”

Simon groaned out softly and slouched back against the chair he was sitting in again as he caught his breath and once his head was clear he got dressed again and then bit his lip as he walked over towards where you were.

“You're a different type of crazy lovie, make things interesting… It’s why you're my favourite.” He sighed and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Coffee sometime then?- Or dinner?”

You laughed and kissed Simon's cheek through his mask. “I do what I can~ And I would love to, been wanting that for a while actually.”

[physalian]

Physalian's Top 10 Narrative Pet Peeves

*For now*

In one way or another, these all boil down to “Author took a shortcut and I absolutely noticed”. In other words, most of these stem from Manufactured Sincerity.

All of these come with the caveat of *except when done well*. I’m ordering these from “I’m annoyed but I’ll get over it” to “Nope, DNF”. 

10. Sad times = Alcohol

Everyone drinks when they’re depressed apparently. Only women or fat men are allowed to eat away their sorrows with ice cream and guilty pleasures. No one’s allowed to go on a self-pity shopping spree. No one just goes to bed.

They drink. Or they go shoot something. Or punch a wall. It’s usually out of a flask or a crystal decanter. It’s usually whisky (specifically bourbon) or scotch, or something out of a brown paper bag.

Maybe this is my own bias as someone who does not drink, but writers, please come up with more diverse ways to show your character is mourning someone or something, beyond immediately heading straight for the alcohol. Not everyone likes liquor, not everyone owns a decanter set and crystal glasses.

Let them eat or shop or sleep or get high, or watch their favorite show or a really sad movie or listen to emotional music. Let them cry if they’re bad boys. Don’t make them punch walls.

9. Down time = Sexy Times

This applies of course only to narratives with implicit or explicit sex scenes and what I mean by down time is those situations where characters are either on the run or have some crucial deadline to meet, some race to win, what have you, and the second they get some time to breathe and have a heart to heart, they both let their guard down and ignore impending doom and sleep together.

If you’re in the real world and you are that stressed for any of the reasons above, you’re going to be constantly looking over your shoulder, worrying about what you’re going to do next, wondering if you should even stop to rest, not be dead on your feet but have enough energy to bang.

Obviously if it’s played for humor, that’s different, but in dramas, or especially in environments not suited for intimacy (looking at you fantasy and sci-fi) it just feels ridiculous and particularly gratuitous. Non-aces please tell me if this is a legit thing you would do, I sincerely want to know.

It also tends to happen with near strangers who’ve only known each other for several days, possibly weeks with little buildup, and they also tend to be at each other’s throats bickering incessantly. Save the sex for after you’ve won and can really dedicate all your attention to enjoying it.

8. Pointless Filler Pit Stops

Or ones that last way too long for no reason. I love filler, but only *productive* filler. It doesn’t have to service the plot, but it does have to develop at least one character, a relationship, the lore, somebody’s backstory, or be really funny and/or interesting to sit through.

Usually, it feels like it’s there to pad the run time or slow the pacing, but rarely does anything for the overall story. A fair bit of season one of ATLA is filler pit stops, but even when they go to all these random places for one-off adventures, the story is still showing us the world they live in, making it a teachable moment, introducing important characters, foreshadowing, or is just mighty entertaining to watch.

ATLA has only one pointless filler pit stop: the infamous Great Divide. It doesn’t positively develop any of the main trio, we never see these side characters again, Aang’s story is a complete lie so it doesn’t develop the lore or the world, and, most importantly, it’s just frustrating to watch. Your first job as a writer is to entertain, and this episode is annoying.

7. Fridged Character Motivation

I don’t mind the “fridged lady love” inherently. It’s a quick and dirty way to give your brooding hero backstory and everyone is familiar with it. I’m annoyed at how it’s the only nuance these characters tend to get, like this man’s dead wife/girlfriend/dog is his sole motivation for everything he does in life and all his goals.

I like broody badasses. I don’t like one-note broody badasses. His character existed before he met his dead love interest. Who was he back then? Does he have any friends who hate the man he’s become? Old mentors who’ve lost their faith in him?

This man’s arc is usually not even therapy-via-violence to get over his dead wife, it’s just a ham-fisted excuse to make him mean and short-tempered. Who is he, unrelated to this fridged character?

6. Dumbass Villains

The villain has captured the hero and friends and plans some dastardly torture to break their will. The villain has all their tools prepared and monologues about how easy it’s going to be, and the hero usually says something along the lines of “you can’t break me” or “I can take it,” whatever. And after several pages or minutes of screen time, the hero’s right, and then the villain breaks out plan B: The hero’s love interest, or their parents, who have just been waiting in the wings.

Why is this almost never plan A? The hero can always handle the pain, and always breaks down the second it’s someone else’s health on the line. Why doesn’t the villain, who’s always pissed at the lack of results, start with the proper motivation?

It’s either this or they wait until the perfect dramatic timing to reveal some skill or weapon or ultimatum after precious time has been lost, deadlines have been missed, and money has been burnt. Or they’re in the boss battle and they wait until the hero thinks they’ve won to pull out their secret weapon.

Unless you can give your villain a valid reason to not start with all the tools they have at their disposal, it might as well be a reverse deus ex machina. Even if it’s something as simple as Plan B hasn’t arrived on scene yet.

5. Everybody Has a Somebody

A topic I plan to expand on so I’ll keep it short here. Basically, the story wraps up and every eligible single character has a love interest they’re in varying stages of romance with. No one is spared, or they’re already dead. It’s a race to the finish line to give these characters significant others because that’s just what you do, it’s what audiences expect, there must be a romantic subplot.

Particularly annoyed when it’s an ensemble cast and the entire hero team only has relationships with other members of the hero team and no one outside this unit of 6-10 characters (*cough* Percy Jackson *cough*). No one is allowed to be single, or happy that they’re single. Everybody has somebody, no matter how well developed or plausible this relationship is.

4. Half-Baked Twist Villains

No one likes these characters and I’m not saying anything new here, and yet it still keeps happening. This one comes from just recently rewatching the abysmal Cars 2 (which is older, I know) and just trying to untangle this plot. This plot, that Pixar rinsed and repeated in Incredibles 2, and really thought no one would notice. This plot, where the villain creates a problem that doesn’t exist to make their own agenda look better, whether that’s malignant superheroes or green fuel.

Both try. Neither pretend the story is absent of a villain, unlike, say, Frozen. Both movies have a villain, they just have a hidden identity. The reveal just never hits as hard as the writers expect it to because, once again, they didn’t actually do the work to write a competent villain, they just slapped a “villain” sticker on their foreheads and called it a day. Why? Who cares.

3. Consequenceless Revivals

I love revivals, I love bringing characters back from the dead, love watching it, love writing it, love the drama.

Don’t love it when they’re suddenly back with no explanation or price to be paid. A character death should be a major event, and if you kill a character just to make your audience sad, then bring them back with zero effort, death begins to lose meaning in your world. CW shows are particularly terrible at this, specifically the TVD universe and Supernatural.

In the earlier seasons, when Sam or Dean died and came back, they still experienced character growth by dying and the experiences in hell, the PTSD inflicted, the new emotional battle scars. Even when Dean died a thousand times in the “Mystery Spot” episode, the point wasn’t “ha ha funny Dean dies again,” it was exercising Sam’s crippling codependency on his brother, as Gabriel says. There are consequences, either for the character’s psyche, or a cost for bringing them back to life.

2. Wimping Out on Promised Death

This decision makes me want to throw the book at the wall, or pause the movie and walk away. It’s the penultimate battle, the prophecy is upon us, a character or one of two characters must die to save the day, it cannot be impeded, avoided, or circumvented. We’ve known this is coming since the story began and are prepared for the tears and bloodshed.

Then the magical miracle springs out of nowhere and everyone gets to live. Kill them. Please. Even if it’s my favorite character, I’d rather cry over their death than be disappointed by plot convenience. If this is the tragic, fulfilling end to their arc, then that’s how I want it to end. Rarely do these characters get revived in a satisfying loophole everyone should have seen coming. I just feel manipulated.

1.  Forced Miscommunication

*Picture me walking a stadium hawking Pointless Drama like cotton candy and cans of beer* Cheap Drama! Anybody want some Cheap Drama? Cheap Drama!

In the real world, people make misassumptions all the time and many of us are conflict-averse. We avoid talking about our problems to those who’ve wronged us like we’re polarized magnets. Forced miscommunication doesn’t care about anxiety, which would be fascinating to explore as explicitly anxious characters suffering legit mental issues is under-utilized. No, these instances just have characters eavesdropping or snooping and, out of character, make all these outlandish assumptions, refuse to listen to explanations, and start a fight that lasts juuuuust long enough until it’s magically resolved without consequence.

It doesn’t do anything for the story. It exists independently of these characters’ relationship and has zero impact once it’s resolved. I am 100% down for a single miscommunication causing an emotional outburst so extreme that it has the offended party seriously considering the strengths of their relationship, but it never happens that way.

—

TL;DR: The existence of a trope does not do the job of writing a compelling story for you. If you can look at any one scene in your book and not explain why it matters, what impact it has on the plot, story, or characters, delete it or rewrite it so it does. Even if it only exists to be funny, there should still be something gained from the experience.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Devil May Halloween - The Samhain Ritual

Devil May Halloween 2023 - The Samhain Ritual, Prologue (Reader and the crew on Halloween's eve)

Pairing: During the Prologue, none. You can pair the reader with anyone you want ;)

Summary: It's finally Halloween and, even if the demons are a lot more active this time of the year, that doesn't stop you from going on hunts - the partying can be done later. Or... At least that was what you thought. Maybe Nero had pretty good reasons to worry about that job after all.

Author's Notes: YEEEEES 'TIS TIME!!!! Ok, a little bit earlier, but I just finished writing the Prologue - if everything goes as planned, I'll write and post Dante's and Vergil's parts on Halloween day/night.

And yes, I know the summary is a little foggy on the theme this year but... I'm really counting on the plot twist at the end, so bear with me please HAHAHAHA

It's based on an ask sent by the amazing @furyeclipse with an awesome idea that I was thinking about for a while and figured it would be a good Halloween theme. I'll answer the ask as soon as I post the two parts on the 31st as not to spoil the fun :3 but thanks so much dear! It sparkled my writing again and I'll be always grateful for that ^^

Happy Halloween, demons, devil hunters and lil' critters!!

Prologue

Contrary to what everyone at the Devil May Cry would believe, it took a lot to get on the Sparda twins’ nerves.

One would never say Dante and Vergil were particularly patient – but, after living with them for a while, they did seem to have an above the average tolerance regarding many matters. Maybe it was because of all the things they had lived, or maybe just because actually sitting and listening to what demons had to say in order to have a smart clap back required an insurmountable amount of patience: no one would ever be able to pinpoint why, but the Sparda twins were able to put up with a lot.

 When the last strands of that patience grew thin and finally torn apart, though, it was usually followed by all hells breaking lose. In that department, Dante and Vergil had very different ways to react: while the red devil burnt in an explosion of controlled fiery anger, the blue devil lost control under his usually carefully measured icy rage.

Two sides of the same coin, as you would say.

That day, it took a lot of time before they started getting annoyed by Nero constantly tapping his feet on the ground at the shop.

Dante was lazily thrown at his desk, sitting on his big chair and trying to enjoy some random magazine from years prior that he never seemed to fully end reading. Vergil was immobile, a little too stiff on the couch, having one of his many obscure poetry books in one hand while the other lightly rested over Yamato – always at arm’s length. Nero sat on the very same couch, with enough distance between him and his father, slouching while looking at different points in the shop and tapping his feet on the ground as if he was the drummer of a metal band.

Incessantly.

That had been going for hours. At first, it wasn’t annoying – both twins thought the kid would eventually calm down and stop. But after a while, Nero didn’t stop… And it only seemed to get worse.

Of course, neither Dante nor Vergil would notice both of them lightly frowning at the same time when the tapping noise started to get on their nerves. Still absorbed by their reads, the Spardas didn’t move their signature blue eyes from the pages, but the annoyed expression was the very same.

Indeed, twins. Even if they would die before admitting they were more similar than they realized.

A good half hour passed before they started getting really annoyed – probably around the same time Nero started using his hands to lightly tap on his thighs, using the same rhythm of his feet.

That exasperation started to bubble inside their chests, like a volcano that would soon explode in harsh feelings – and Dante was the first one to actually do something about it.

“Hey, kid.” He moved his sky-blue eyes towards Nero, making his nephew immediately look back at him. Without halting the tapping. “Everything alright? You’re gonna start a one-man band soon enough.”

“Yeah, yeah. I have restless leg syndrome, ya know?” Nero answered in his nonchalant tone as always – the very same punk Dante met at Fortuna. Years could go by, but that big-mouthed angry kid he met in that stuck-up cult city would never change in his eyes.

Something Dante was very fond of, if he had to be honest.

Not a single second passed before the sheath of the Yamato lightly – but sternly – hit Nero’s thighs; with enough pressure to hold them down, almost with no effort from the man wielding it.

“Enough.” Vergil’s words were crowned by the side look from his frozen silver eyes, moving just the muscles he needed to make his son stop that madness.

“C’mon…” Nero let out a huff, rolling his eyes and throwing his head back at the same time, finally stopping the tapping. It was enough to make Vergil put the Yamato back on its place and go back to his reading. “Am I supposed to just stay here waitin’ with ya the whole day?”

“They’re gonna be alright, kid.” Dante closed his magazine, tossing it on the desk and moving his feet down to the floor. Leaning towards the couch, he rested one of his elbows on his knee. “Y/n is one hell of a hunter and your lil’ angel is more than great at helpin’. They’ll be back in no time.”

“Yeah, but what if somethin’ goes wrong? What if Kyrie gets hurt?” Nero got up and started using his accumulated energy to walk around the shop while tapping on his thighs. He had to move.

“Don’t you trust your own training…?” Vergil once again raised his silvery eyes from the book, staring at his son fumbling around and not knowing what to do with himself – the very opposite of his immovable force.

Nero stared back at his own father, aquamarine eyes burning with anger. Dante had to smile and stifle a laugh: he knew his brother quite well to know Vergil wasn’t saying that just to be insufferable, he was actually playfully teasing his own son. Just like he used to do with Dante whenever their never-ending bantering started.

It was good to see Vergil was finally getting comfortable with his own kid to allow himself that kind of behavior. Dante saw that as a good sign.

“Well, last time Kyrie got caught up in the middle of somethin’, crazy-ass Sanctus and Nico’s dad kidnapped her to be slurped into a huge semi-organic-marble statue of world’s greatest grandpa Sparda while your ass was crumblin’ in Hell.” Now Nero was as red as a bell pepper, making Dante raise his eyebrows and side-eye his twin brother. Sometimes, Vergil deserved the burn. “Had to use Yamato to beat that old creep to pieces to get my girl back, so excuse me if I’m worried about lettin’ her go on a mission without me on Halloween of all days!”

Feeling Dante’s not-at-all discreet stare, Vergil’s eyes turned back to his brother right after.

“Kid’s got a point.” That’s all the red devil would say, crowned by a shrug. He loved to see Vergil being more comfortable around his son to allow more of his personality to show through – but he also had to admit Vergil needed a scolding from time to time after all the things he had done.

And his list of sins was actually huge, so there would be a lot of scolding.

“Kyrie is a very competent healer.” Vergil sighed and decided it was time to close his book and rest it on his legs – it was not like he would be able to go back to read anyway. “And y/n is a remarkable hunter. You taught Kyrie how to handle guns and swords. Even if things turn out not like they are expecting, demons would require a remarkable force to subdue them.” His silvery eyes had nothing but calculated calm, making Nero finally stop on his tracks and actually listen. “When you think about things logically, you realize the chance of them coming back safely is greater than whatever worry stirring in your heart.”

Nero rested his hands on his hips, his mouth pursed in a slit while his aquamarine eyes narrowed in their mission of glaring his father. He didn’t want to admit, but that was one hell of an advice. Vergil’s strength relied on his mind seeing things logically and counting all odds without his heart interfering in the matter – which probably was the reason why he survived so long in Hell.

Nero hated when Vergil was right – and specially when his advices were so sound. It reminded him of the father he never had, of the advices he never got to receive to help his life be a little bit less miserable – and it reminded him that even if he was mad Vergil was never there for him, it was because his father was locked in Hell as a puppet in Mundus’ hands, not even knowing he had a son, suffering innumerous tortures until Dante rid him of all that by killing his own brother… Only to survive somehow and drag himself out of all that shit.

It would be easier for Nero to hate Vergil if he only had left in pursue of power and never cared if he had a child. It would be a lot easier for Nero to deal with his feelings if that was the case.

“Verge’s right, kid. I’m not one to respond logically to things…” Dante raised his hands as if he was being held at gunpoint as soon as those fuming aquamarine eyes stared at him. “But hey, you gotta have some sense sometimes. They’re good at what they do. It wasn’t such a difficult job and your lil’ angel has an opportunity to take care of the people who were injured. It’s gonna be fine.”

Differently from Vergil, Dante wasn’t being held hostage while Nero had to learn to survive on his own – at least not like his twin brother in Hell. Even if Nero wanted to say Dante could have done something, could have been a blood bond he so desperately needed, the man in front of him could hide under so many masks but couldn’t stop his sky-blue eyes of showing all the sadness he carried inside.

Vergil could have been locked down in Hell, but Dante was being held hostage in his own mind. Carrying the grief of being the only survivor on that fateful night, and then the heart-wrenching sorrow of killing his own twin brother in order to rid him of the suffering he had been forced to endure during all that time in Hell. The guilt Dante carried in his soul weighted in his eyes and showed in how much he didn’t care about himself. He didn’t even know Nero existed until he saw him for the first time.

How could any of them care for Nero when all of them were lost in the first place?

“Kyrie’s gonna be so happy being able to help other people…” Nero finally sighed and murmured to himself, closing his eyes as if to remind himself why you both left for a job on your own in the first place. “She can handle herself. Y/n can protect them if they need it. I don’t need to stalk ‘em like a vulture all the time.”

“That’s the spirit, kid.” Dante smiled, resting his heavy boots on his desk once again. “They’ll be back soon and we’ll even have time for a lil’ Halloween party.”

“Hmmm. I refuse to wear those ridiculous clothes.” Vergil left his book on the couch, getting up to warm some water. The day was coming to an end and they could use some tea – specially Nero.

“Ooooh, c’mon, Verge! It’s the twins from The Shining! We have to make that happen someday!” Dante looked so offended Nero couldn’t help himself but to smile – even if a little bit. “It’s perfect!”

“You would never find a dress that fits you.” Vergil’s answer was but a murmur, but all of them could hear it very well.

“Ya know…” Nero sighed, finally giving in his family antics. They would never be much normal… And it made no sense for Nero to cry over the suffering Mundus had doomed all his family to just because his grandfather decided to stand by the side of the ones that needed him. In the end, Sparda did the right thing and his blood was paying for it – could Nero really be mad at him about it…? “Vergil would make a great Wednesday Addams.”

Both men stared at him: Vergil with only frozen death in his silvery eyes, dark aura already starting to loom around him, while Dante had the brightest stars in his sky-blue stare, mouth slightly open.

“You’re a genius, kid.”

Chaos would’ve ensued if Trish and Lady hadn’t opened the doors of the Devil May Cry at that very same moment.

“Hey, what’s up, babes? Nero’s got the best idea for Halloween this year…!”

“Well, those ideas will have to wait. We got a bit of a… Problem.” And something was wrong in Trish’s voice: she usually carried that nonchalant, devilish honey tone in every word she said, always with a ghost of a smile on her perfectly crafted reddish lips – but not this time. Her lilac blue eyes were fidgeting, a tinge of distraught in her voice. Dante immediately furrowed his brows and took his feet of the desk.

“Y/n and Kyrie need our help.” Lady announced with a nervous tremble in her tone, closing the heavy door behind her.

The Devil May Cry fell in silence – the eyes of the blood of Sparda locked on Lady and Trish. They had now their undivided attention.

**

“I’m really impressed we’re not finding any of them stalking us at the corner of our eyes every now and then.” You had your arms crossed, leaning to a building while Kyrie stabilized a man who was caught by a demon earlier – his family waiting anxiously around you, ready to run to safety while you both only promised to go deeper and deeper into the root of all the problem. “I thought they’d be looming around us like vultures.”

“Oh, Nero is probably worried sick.” Kyrie answered in a giggle, carefully wrapping the man’s arm with a clean set of bandages she packed before leaving with you. “But I think they trust us enough to do our job.”

“Hmmm. Nevertheless, I lost the bet.” You smiled in return, slightly sighing. “Guess you got me for an entire day to help you at the orphanage when we’re back.”

“Any help is always welcome.” She was quickly done, smiling at you while the family approached to carry the man to safety. “Go straight to a hospital. We’ll keep on working on this.”

“Thank you! May the gods bless you!”

As the family ran out of the building with the injured man, Kyrie couldn’t help but smile. For years she had unwavering faith in the Order of the Sword, and she thought after all that happened in Fortuna – specially regarding Credo – she would turn bitter towards all religion. But it had the opposite effect: it only made her happier when people blessed her with their faith, knowing it was one of the best things they could offer as a thankful gesture.

Her church might have been destroyed, her beliefs turned to dust – but her faith in something good would never be broken.

“Ok, my dear Cleric, onwards we go.” You got your sword back in your hands, pointing the way so Kyrie could get ready. “It’s quite impressive that a few demons were able to make such a mess in so little time actually. If they hadn’t evacuated the factory as soon as the first bodies appeared, we would probably be here with the whole crew.”

“Hmmm… It’s very interesting really…” Kyrie furrowed her brows, reloading the Blue Rose. Nero wanted her to use it on that hunt – as if having a piece of him with her could ward away any evil. He was always very bitter and rebellious towards any faith, but Kyrie always smiled whenever she saw the little superstitions Nero carried with him. “You said we’re dealing with three demons, right?”

“Could be more.”

“Oh, I believe it’s three. If I’m a Cleric, then you’re a Ranger. And a very good one.” Kyrie let out a quiet laugh alongside yours. “Three demons attacking a factory in town at random, causing so many deaths and such mayhem in less than an hour… It’s really… Hmmm…”

“Weird…?” You tried and she agreed, even if both of you didn’t really agree that was the right word to describe it. Since you first stepped inside that old building, it seemed something wasn’t right – but neither of you could quite point out what it was. “Yeah, I have to agree with you… If it was just a bunch of bloodthirsty demons, they would be spreading out to the city already and there would be so much more than just three.”

“And if there were more, the body count would be higher.” Her answer was somber: Kyrie never enjoyed thinking about human casualties, and that’s why her job was always to heal and help the injured. “So…”

“What gives?” You complimented her phrase, making Kyrie agree with her head – slowly, still thinking about it. “Also, we have many hunters in our party. Dante is one hell of a tracker as well, even if he tries to pretend he’s always winging it.”

“Oh, but Dante would definitely be a hunter Bard.” She laughed in response, making you snort right after. You could see that. Dante was a depressed Bard, hunting demons and going into fire fueled demon rage, but a Bard nonetheless. “And Vergil would be our very own Necromancer.”

“Scaring everyone who came in contact with us, be with his eyes or the spirit of the dead.” You answered as if you were narrating an advertisement of Necromancers on the TV – Kyrie giggled more than she thought she would. “It’s very fitting though. And Nero…”

You both exchanged looks, as if you could read each other’s minds – already laughing upon knowing what the answer would be.

“Rebel Paladin.” As you said in unison, your laughs echoed slightly through the factory. Imagining what each one of you would be in a Dungeons and Dragons game was something you and Kyrie would discuss quite often since you found out she was interested in it, but never really had the chance to play it. You wanted to start a campaign together, but whenever she had time, you were out on a hunt, and whenever you had time, she was busy with the orphanage.

Suddenly, you raised your hand so your laughs would come to a halt. Kyrie paid attention to your surroundings, only to hear what it seemed to be distorted voices coming from the patio outside the factory. Taking one of your fingers to your lips, you signaled her to be silent as you slowly walked towards the noise.

Reaching one of the big windows inside the building, you had a good view of the patio. Three humanoid demons – but still a lot taller than normal people, with leathery skin, distorted proportions, horned heads and sharp teeth – licked the blood from their fingers, tossing dismembered human bodies in the distance. You and Kyrie remained silent, crouching by the window, only the very top of your heads visible: enough so you could see what was going on.

“Master will probably have to wait for another Samhain.” One of them scoffed the words, voice drenching in disdain.

“We have our orders. They will show up.” The tallest demon, a little different and more menacing, had only anger in his tone. That discussion probably had been going for some time. “And when they do, our job is over.”

“Perhaps we didn’t kill enough…” The third demon had a wide smile on its hundred rows of sharp teeth. “Perhaps if we spill more blood, they will be here quicker.”

“You fool.” The leader of the group almost growled in response. “Humans aren’t summoned by spells and blood like us. They are weak little creatures that take forever to do at least one thing.”

“Then why Master needs them so much?! Two even!” The first demon rolled its eerily white eyes, clearly bored with the waiting stage of their mission. “They are meek things, the only thing they are good for is food.”

“Because those are different.” The leader now let a roar tear trough its words. “And they are exactly what Master needs for the ritual. No more, no less.”

“If Mundus wasn’t so stupid, he would have succeeded in it.” The second demon scoffed once again, shaking its head. You and Kyrie exchanged quick looks. “But he always wanted to bite more than he could chew.”

“He thought he could bend the rules.” The leader crossed its deformed arms, spiky skin scratching against each other. “No one can. Not even the strongest of us. He ignored the rituals that could’ve made him stronger before trying to subdue all into his rule.”

“He underestimated the blood of Sparda. That was the reason for his demise.” You walked into the patio, silver sword bright in your hand. You had heard enough – and maybe Dante or probably Vergil would know what kind of Samhain ritual they were talking about. It was time to send them back to Hell; Kyrie could watch it safely from inside the factory.

“Oh… A hunter.” The leader smiled devilishly, receiving an approving look from the other two. That already made your heart a little suspicious: it wasn’t a normal reaction. “And a Sparda defender, nonetheless.”

“I defend the ones who carry his legacy. Your power could never get even close to what they carry.” You raised your head with pride, a ghost of a smile coloring your lips. “And neither did Mundus.”

“My, my, so you know the blood of Sparda…?” The third demon approached with its hundred rows of sharp fangs dripping blood, ready to attack. You tried not to react to its phrase, even if you wanted to furrow your brows in confusion. Why did that matter…? “It’s true, then? That they fell for human whores like that filthy traitor before them?”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind you talking about me like that…” You sighed, crossing your arms, trying to retain a little control over the conversation – even if something inside you screamed the odds were not in your favor. “But no one refers to my Cleric with such dirty words.”

She didn’t want to, but Kyrie had to muffle a little giggle. She would always be impressed how all of you hunters – including Lady and Trish, not only Nero’s family and you – could banter and give demons smart answers, seemingly fearlessly.

“You have someone else with you, then…? A non-hunter…?” The first demon approached slowly, spreading its claws in the same rhythm as its steps.

That was almost like a red light appearing inside your mind. They didn’t know. They saw you – and only you – but they didn’t know about Kyrie. And now, it seemed like they were even more interested on the fact you were there together.

Two humans for their Master. They could have taken anyone in that factory, but they were waiting. At first, you and Kyrie thought they were waiting for anyone in the crew outside Trish, but now… You had your doubts. Many doubts.

Without words, you plunged in a surprise attack that managed to cut the side of the third demon’s mouth, making it even wider while it screeched in pain. That was enough to put an end to that conversation – and, as soon as you could, you would turn around to Kyrie and signal her to run.

As she watched you from inside the building, Kyrie tried to think what to do. She knew you were more than capable of killing those three demons in a moderately quick fight, but that conversation was enough to spark restlessness in her heart.

And before she could do anything and you could tell her to go, Kyrie felt a leathery clawed hand tightly covering her mouth, squeezing her soft skin until it hurt.

“Don’t even try to run, or we will gut you and your friend right here, right now.”

Her hazelnut eyes turned to the patio in despair, trying to find yours while you viciously fought to slay all those demons.

As soon as you saw her being carried towards the patio by another menacing demon, you immediately did what they commanded you to do: stop resisting and drop your weapons or else they would drop Kyrie’s blood.

She closed her eyes in regret as she heard the metallic sound of your silver sword hitting the floor.

**

“When the people in town told us they were there, we figured to drop by and say hello.” Lady had her hands resting on her waist, standing in front of the shop’s desk while the Spardas surrounded her and Trish. “Our job was fast and easy, and it would be nice seeing how Kyrie was holding up… But when we got to the factory, we knew something was wrong.”

“What happened?! Just say it already!” And if Nero was a pile of nerves before, now he was beyond any logic.

“I got up on the roofs, Lady crossed the factory inside. There was nothing.” Trish took over, crossing her arms and having her slim eyebrows furrowed in worry. “I got to the patio where I was hearing some voices. There were four demons: one was a leader of three lesser demons, but they weren’t doing anything. I saw Lady hiding inside the factory and watching things from the windows, but everything was… Weirdly calm.”

“Kyrie and y/n were being held hostages. Kyrie tried to fight and let go, but y/n… Nothing.” Lady noticed how Dante and Vergil immediately frowned upon hearing that. It wasn’t like you to be allowed to be taken by demons without a fight. “Their weapons were on the floor. One of them said if y/n even tried to move, they would cut Kyrie’s throat.”

“Fuck…! I knew I should’ve gone with them!” Nero almost threw his arms up in exasperation, starting to roam around the room once again. This was killing him. He wanted to give Kyrie all the space she needed, but after Fortuna… He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. “What about y/n?!”

“That’s why they didn’t move.” Trish’s cold lilac blue eyes immediately turned to Nero. “Head held high as always, but not a single move.”

“And then? Did ya try to do somethin’?” Dante was on the brink on understanding Nero on a soul level – he himself was almost getting up from his big chair to prance around the room and blow off some steam.

“We tried…” Lady’s voice carried a regret he only heard when they were teens and met for the first time, so many years ago. Back then, she had a lot more bitterness rather than pure rage. “We tried to signal some things and plan something, but…”

“Hell Generals.” Trish cut Lady’s words, making Vergil immediately stiffen up, frozen eyes staring her with a sharp edge. “Two Hell Generals. I don’t know how, but they managed to get to the human world. One of them was their ‘master’ while the other must have had some sort of deal with the first.

“Which Generals…?”

“You think you know them?” Lady had to admit she was a little shocked. Trish was usually the encyclopedia of famous demons in Hell, given the fact she was literally born there. She knew the Generals, but not all of them.

“I spent enough time in Hell to know most of its worst.” And to say his eyes could cut was an understatement. “Everyone wanted the chance to torture the son of the 'filthy traitor Sparda'.”

The Devil May Cry fell in silence for a couple of seconds. Everyone knew Vergil hadn’t had it easy during his time in Hell, but he rarely talked about it – and when he did, it was usually followed by chills down their spines.

“Erlach and Orcus.” Trish finally raised her voice among that silence, making Vergil close his eyes. “Erlach was the lesser demons’ master, Orcus was the one who had an arrangement with him.”

“Indeed… Two of the worst.” Vergil opened his eyes once more, carrying even more rage than before.

“And what did they want?” Dante shook his head, sighing quickly. He thought they would be able to have a peaceful Halloween. “They were holdin’ them, so they must’ve wanted somethin’.”

“Yes, they talked about a ritual. The ‘Samhain ritual’ as far as I could hear, but I have no idea what that is.” Lady turned her bicolored eyes to Trish – after all, she must’ve known what they meant by that.

“The Samhain ritual is written in books in Hell but no one knows if it really is true. No demon ever tried it, apart from the ones of legend.” The demon rested her hands on her waist, sighing right after. “It’s a ritual to gain power, said to elevate a demon’s status. If it was made by a General, they would easily rise to Mundus’ status.”

“Ok, so not good at all, that’s what you mean.” Nero placed his hands on Dante’s desk, leaning on it and finally stopping his roaming around. “Why do they need Kyrie and y/n? Their blood? Their souls? Why didn’t you interrupt them?!”

“Well, when I heard what they said before completely disappearing I took some time to make sure I wasn’t hearing things, kid!” Lady now looked as furious as Nero, trying to get him to respect her again as he always did. “I thought I heard it wrong and then they were gone! It happened too fast!”

“What did they say?!” The three Spardas talked at the very same time; different voice tones, but indeed, a family.

“To get the wedding ready.”

Trish’s words fell among them like a ton of bricks. Nero had disgust and confusion written all over his face, seemingly trying to make sense of it – just like Lady when she heard it for the first time, making sure they didn’t get it wrong. Dante had his eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly open, but eyes filled with rage and shock. Vergil looked like he had swallowed an entire book and it was now stuck in his throat, unable to go up or down, while his face tried to maintain some dignity.

Until the three managed to blurt out the exact same phrase.

“What the fuck?!”

That was going to be one hell of a Halloween.

To Be Continued....

[my-castles-crumbling]

hey cas

I'm scared.

I'm scared that I'm going down some weird ass classism alt right pipeline.

I'm queer and trans myself, I've always been what ppl mockingly call a "social justice warrior" and I've always stood up against racism, classism and homo-and transphobia of any kind as much as I could

The problem is, that I'm currently being bullied and I have been for the last five, six ish years.

My bullies come from low income immigrant families, and I know rationally that the way they were raised contributes very greatly to why they're like this now why they bully me

I also know that they are also just reacting, to their own jealousy towards me... But lately, every time I'm angry at them, when I've had a particularly bad day, when they've been proper bitches again, smth inside of me thinks "Oh but it's okay because they're never gonna make it anywhere in life cus they're poor" or "Oh but they're less than me anyway, that's just how it is." or "they deserve that their families suck, because they hurt me so much" (there's more examples of it tho)

And i rationally know that all of that is my own trauma talking, that this is a somewhat natural reaction to someone pushing me down like that, is to push back, no matter how bad it may seem, because to a point they've destroyed my self confidence (or tried to) and this is a way for that to recover. It's not a good one, ik that

Anyways, my point is I'm scared. I'm scared that one day I'm gonna hurt someone who hasn't done anything wrong to me, just because they're similar to my bullies, or jus because it triggers that same reaction in me. I'm scared because ik of myself that I'm a rational person and know that these prejudices are not real or true. But the thought of saying these things and yelling at people for it is still there, when I get angry.

I wanna try going to therapy this year, but I'm not sure if this is something I can explain without sounding insane

Any advice would be rlly appreciated, I just don't know what to do about this, like at all, and you're the only person I can think of who I can trust with this

Thank you

-😇

(ironic emoji, ik)

Hi!

I think this is honestly a really complicated situation, for all the reasons you listed. But the important thing is, you're constantly questioning your biases and prejudices, which is really important.

I think all people with privilege (it sounds like you have class privilege) have biases, right? And because you're being bullied, it makes it even more complicated. But it's our job to question them and you're doing that. Honestly, you can't be expected to treat your actual bullies with a hundred percent graciousness...that's not human. but if you find you're treating OTHER people in ways that are bigoted, that's a red flag and you might need to take some time to think about your actions.

I think therapy is a really good idea, regardless. Like everyone should be in therapy, but especially people who have been/are being bullied.

I also am wondering what the hell the school is doing about this? Because yeah, bullying happens for a reason, people have their own issues, blah blah blah, but you still should NOT have to deal with it. You don't deserve it. Does the school know? Are they being helpful at all?

naming you angel anon!

[utilitycaster]

hi! I'm sorry if you answered this already and I missed the post, but what are your general thoughts on the party being split for so long?

Short answer: I think it's great. I think the best way to answer this accurately is to cover some of my past complaints about the campaign, and discuss how this split is addressing the vast majority of them. This is also, I suppose, serves as an argument for why it's worth getting caught up with Campaign 3 for anyone who fell off of regular watching.

I'll begin by saying that I understand the desire to have something akin to Campaign 2 but in Marquet: a group of people deeply tied into the lore and fabric of the setting and yet displaced within it, finding each other. I still would have liked to see that story. I do not fault people for being disappointed in not getting that, particularly given what Marquet means as a setting, and this still is not that campaign. But pretty much all of my other complaints have been addressed by the apogee solstice and the party split and so I'm not here to mourn what I know didn't happen, and instead to talk about how the last ten or so episodes have been banger after banger.

I said this elsewhere recently but my issue wasn't that the campaign was building up to the apogee solstice setpiece; it was that it took about 30 episodes to even reveal that was what the buildup was for, and yet, somehow, 35 episodes to finally be done with Treshi. Which meant in turn that the party was constantly kind of shepherded from place to place. Even the sidequests were mostly part of the buildup - Heartmoor Hamlet is a good time, and achieves quite a lot in only a handful of episodes - but it is, ultimately, mostly there to wipe out Ashton's debt which would be a detriment to getting to the main plot. The modular, party-driven nature of Campaign 2 just wasn't an option, since they could have quite possibly avoided the solstice (akin to how Campaign 2 completely avoided the Augen Trust plot and required a drastic reworking of the Lucien plot). But because it started so early, it was hard to get a sense of what would actually motivate the characters so that they could be guided more naturally by hooks they'd be likely to take, since they were doing fetch quest after fetch quest with a wealthy patron (I love Eshteross with all my heart but that kind of figure early in the story is tough to incorporate; more on that later) and getting lore dumped at by NPCs and never really had to scramble or take weird jobs killing rats in the sewers or even share rooms in an inn with people they didn't already know before the story started.

Which is the second part: the party did not really mix that much. Imogen and Laudna came in codependently joined at the hip, and Orym and Fearne were also quite close. Ashton and FCG had a looser arrangement, and Chetney was the only true free agent. So a lot of the time, the party felt like three groups working together with tenuous bridges rather than a coherent party, and they never quite had either the downtime to cohere, or the massive crisis to force them together. This party has actually seen quite a lot of death, but Bertand's happened too early, and while Laudna's didn't quite reset to the status quo, it also occurred just as the Treshi plot had ended and so the timeline was becoming even more accelerated. The seeds of something were there, but they needed something more to actually take root.

Enter the apogee solstice and the party split. This has fixed basically everything:

The fact that the solstice happened means that now we're in damage control mode. There's a clear motivator for the party, but one that they genuinely care about rather than one that requires the DM being like "and THIS NPC wants THIS thing."

It also forces the party to develop those relationships outside of the friend they started with. The obvious first reason is that the groups are split up along those lines. That is not an accident or a cruel joke; that's fucking necessary, frankly, to get the party to bond. As my meta about Laudna and Orym points out, not having their emotional support prior colleague - even by sending - and frankly, yeah, not even knowing they're alive, for certain, is what will make these characters actually grow and change. As we saw, the same is true for Fearne, Imogen, and FCG.

It notably removes the spotlight from Imogen, which is good, because the cool development happens after the character-focused arc, when they can process, rather than during. She's still Ruidusborn, but what that means is very different from what it meant pre-ritual.

Then there's the practical element of travel. This party probably isn't going to be teleporting nonstop, but they did have comparatively fast travel in the form of a skyship from very early on, and in another three levels Fearne will have transport via plants, and Imogen can take teleport as a cast spell the level after that, and then we'll never get to see much of the world...but if you break teleporting a bit? You send them into the middle of the wilderness? Yeah, they're going to need to have those watch conversations that were far too few and far between early in the campaign.

And allies! This party's doing it backwards. They've lost Eshteross; Keyleth's fate is unknown to them; Ryn is a statue; Beau and Caleb's fates are similar question marks. After so much time of having patrons and friendly wizards telling them what to do? They're alone, and they have to survive by their wits and by leaning on each other.

The fact that we've got guests is good both because we get to see different facets of the main cast's characters through their responses to these new companions, and because we're getting to fill some of the gaps in the party (people with more longstanding relationships to deities; people with 20 INT scores). It also pushes Bells Hells, in some way, closer together, by having to assert that they are part of a group with shared experience. And it's just a delight to have them.

This is also just fun for fans in that we're getting to see some of the most wished for locations - the Mighty Nein's time in Uthodurn was brief and very focused, and everyone's been clamoring for Molaesmyr and Issylra. For all that Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein fought world-wide threats, they were largely contained to a specific region, and I think this is really setting the stage for how big a deal the apogee solstice really is, by flinging the party across the world and showing how everyone is affected.

Anyway: love the party split. I honestly would have been happy with one or two more episodes of the other party and am looking forward to a similar length arc for this party, and honestly, even then, it might take a few episodes for them to reunite, and I think they'll all be better for it.

[hokis-aj]

(Her ghost bestie, Masahiro, wrote over it) (and helped her write it)

I just wanted to share one of my Hogwarts Legacy oc. Might do the others too later 😮‍💨

Thanks to @kiwiplaetzchen for the template ✌🏻🥸

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Name : Hakashi Reita. Her family is quite special in its own way. Let's just say that its members have always had fun giving their children names with gloomy meanings and, of course, the little girl was no exception, being named Hakashi. A very pretty name... for such a bad meaning. Haka is said to mean "Tomb", while "Shi" means "Death". As for her family name, which is just as pleasant, it's Reita. Her name comes from the words "to be haunted" (取 り 憑 か れ た, Tori Tsukareta). The phonetic syllable rei in her name may also represent 霊 (rei), meaning spirit or ghost.

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Special ability : Even if she’s blind, Hakashi has the uncanny ability to glimpse the souls of those who have died and are still roaming the earth. Although she's in charge of moving souls to the afterlife, some seem unwilling to leave because they haven't yet fulfilled their last wish. She uses this gift to help them leave in peace. This is one of the reasons to why she keep her eyes closed most of the time, finding hard to look at some of the souls but mostly because they are annoying *kof kof* Masahiro *kof kof*.

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Personality : Hakashi appears at first glance to be an eccentric and cheerful girl, an image that belies her background in a family that runs a cemetery. Known for her love of pranks and her disdain for idleness, she is determined to live her life to the fullest. This zest for life and her quirky personality often leave a negative impression on those around her. A former classmate, in particular, goes as far as to describe her as having a "punchable face" and suggests she should be kept in a frozen room. Hakashi's acceptance of death as a natural part of life might come across as insensitive to some, but it allows her to truly respect her job of helping the dead "cross over." This perspective leads her to dislike certain scientists, particularly those who seek to prolong life unnaturally. Her personality is as multifaceted as the grains of sand in a desert, constantly surprising people with her bizarre ideas. Despite the impression that she is always playing and never working, Hakashi's true dedication shines when she leads funeral processions down lamp-lit aisles, revealing a dignified and solemn side. She can amuse herself for hours playing a four-player card game alone, an activity whose joys remain a mystery to everyone but herself. While widely regarded as a lax entrepreneur due to her idle moments, Hakashi's commitment to her unique approach to life and work is unwavering.

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Story : Hakashi was born on October 31st, under a moon that bathed the world in a cold, ethereal glow. She was a child of the night, born at 3:00 a.m., or more precisely at 3:33 a.m., an hour fraught with meaning. It is said that 3:33 a.m. is the devil's hour, the moment when evil spirits rise to observe the souls of the living as they drift off to sleep. It's at this dark hour that the barrier between the world of the living and that of spirits becomes fragile, allowing malevolent entities such as demons and ghosts to insinuate themselves into our reality.

In a room dimly lit by flickering candlelight, an exhausted woman tormented herself:

« That's not my daughter ! Look at those black eyes, that thing isn't human, it didn't come out of my womb, no, it can't be ! » she cried, her voice shattered by fear and incomprehension.

These words, tinged with terror, reached little Hakashi's ears like a distant whisper, muffled by the thick darkness surrounding her. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids refused to give way. A first attempt failed. A second, too. And a third.

Hakashi was blind. Her black eyes, two unfathomable orbs, couldn't grasp the light of day or the loving faces around her. But she perceived something else, a presence invisible to others. In the darkness of her world, she could see shadows moving, indistinct shapes that did not belong to the realm of the living. Ghosts and spirits haunted her gaze, intertwining in a silent, perpetual dance.

Thus, from her very first breath, Hakashi Reita was plunged into a universe where the boundaries between life and death dissolved, where shadows whispered forgotten secrets and wandering spirits disturbed the sleep of mortals. As a child of the night, born under a dark star, she had to learn to navigate this strange and disquieting world, guided by her keen senses and intuition.

The first years of Hakashi's life were marked by constant hardship. Her mother, deeply disturbed by her daughter's appearance and peculiarities, found it difficult to accept her condition. Despite this difficulty, her father remained a pillar of support, doing his best to surround Hakashi with his love and reassuring presence. The environment in which Hakashi grew up, however, made her existence even more complex. Her parents ran a cemetery, a place imbued with silence and mystery, where the boundary between life and death seemed constantly blurred.

In this cemetery, spirits wandered ceaselessly around Hakashi. Certain apparitions, with their frightening shapes and faces distorted by pain or anger, would have terrified any adult. For young Hakashi, small and vulnerable, these visions were a source of night terrors. Shadows swirled around her, their incessant murmuring filling the air with a palpable, oppressive presence.

It took several years for her parents to begin to understand their daughter's innate ability. It was a long road of misunderstandings and fragmentary discoveries. At first, they attributed Hakashi's nocturnal fears to simple childhood nightmares. But as time passed, they realized that these "nightmares" were in fact visions, glimpses of a world invisible to the eyes of the living.

The discovery of this ability turned their lives upside down. They understood that Hakashi was not just a different child, but a soul endowed with a rare and powerful gift. She could perceive the spirits that haunted their graveyard, interacting with them in a way that no one else could. This revelation brought a mixture of awe and fascination to her parents. For her mother, it finally explained the strange events surrounding her daughter's birth, while for her father, it reinforced his desire to protect and understand his precious child.

The nights remained difficult, populated by whispers and disquieting figures, her only companions were the spirits who had seen her born. They watched her with benevolent, sometimes malevolent curiosity, and taught her the secrets of an invisible world. Hakashi learned to listen to the voices of darkness, to sense evanescent presences and to understand the messages of ghosts.

In this life woven of darkness and occult light, Hakashi Reita, child of the night, forged her destiny, inseparable from the shadows that had welcomed her from her earliest hours.

⠀⠀⠀ 𖥨ํ🕊️ Patronus : The butterfly patronus represents transformation and rebirth, a flowing free spirit. People with an inner butterfly are creative, it flowing out of them like a river, and their ideas tend to pile up on top of each other. They have a love for their own mind, and want to make sure it is constantly in use. They can be a bit scattered in this way, as they often fly from place to place mentally, starting on one thing before they finish another. They are sensitive and fragile, but their inner strength is still strong, and they can hold themselves up despite the blows they are given.

TRIVIA

𓀾 | Hakashi's highly-developed senses enable her to fully compensate for her blindness.

𓀾 | Her sense of touch enables her to read with her fingertips, sensing characters printed on a sheet of paper; her skin also enables her to feel changes in temperature or pressure in the atmosphere around her. In this way, she can detect the presence of a person - apart from her other senses - at a distance of around 1.50 meters, thanks to the heat given off by that person.

𓀾 | Thanks to her sense of smell, she can identify a person by smell if she has spent at least 10 minutes with him. It's strong enough for her to know their approximate position. After practicing this skill for so long, she has acquired the ability to sense emotions as well as follow objects, humans or living beings over long distances. (She’s a dog)

𓀾 | Her hearing is so developed that she can hear a person's heartbeat over a distance of 10 meters and hear people whispering behind a wall. However, she can be disoriented by particularly loud and unexpected sounds.

𓀾 | Hakashi’s taste enables her to identify all the ingredients in a dish or drink.

𓀾 | She love to pop up behind students scaring the daylight out of them, coming out of the corner and « GRRAAHHRHRJAHR ».

𓀾 | Butterflies tend to follow her, and that wherever she is, butterflies will be there for absolutely no reason. What is actually fun is that butterflies are related to death.

𓀾 | She was hated at Mahoutokoro because she advertises her funeral parlor and refuses to help people who are about to die, because if that doesn't happen, who will she bury ? Business is business.

𓀾 | She’s that one friend that gives you oddly frightening fun facts. Facts that make you go « why does she know that? ».

𓀾 | Since her eyes are always closed, she sometimes falls asleep in class. When she's lucky, it passes.

This is Masahiro 👇🏻

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Finally got my shit together and finished a WIP lmao. My sweet, sad little blorbo from my brain who lives rent free in my head 💙 He needs love and affection so badly but I simply refuse to give him any, he just gets to be miserable 😌

Anyway, medical content (set in a hospital), contagion risk, bit of mess but it's not descriptive, I absolutely did not read this over so yeah there's probably mistakes

Aditya was too much of a people pleaser for his own good, unable to bear the thought of letting his coworkers down, even when he absolutely needed to take the day off. He had come down with quite the cold, and was currently stumbling his way through a tedious 24 hour shift at the hospital. He would admittedly much rather be in bed at home with blankets piled on top of him, sniffling and sneezing into tissues provided by another person, perhaps sipping on some warm tea while they rubbed his back. But that was nothing more than a fruitless dream; it had been far longer than Aditya cared to think about since he'd had someone like that in his life, or at least someone who was readily available.

Even in his last relationship, he hadn’t been on the receiving end of care and affection, though Aditya so generously counted it as a time he had. He desperately missed having someone to go home to, someone to hold after a particularly exhausting day, someone to make food for. So far, it seemed that maybe that just wasn't in the stars for him. Besides, he reasoned, he was needed at the hospital, and it saved him from having to return to his empty house that felt less and less like a home everyday.

Going about his rounds was less than ideal; his head throbbed with congestion, and it took everything in him to hold back sneezes when he went in to see patients. Even entering notes into one of the rickety old computers seemed like such an arduous task, his head pounding and his eyes aching, further exacerbated by the fact that he'd so stupidly forgotten his reading glasses at home. He was normally so in his element in the ER, never overwhelmed by the fast pace of the department and the bustling people. Today, though, he was clearly in over his head.

Thick sniffles punctuated every sentence, as well as irritated coughs, and the persistent itch in his nose that just wouldn't go away. He tried wrinkling his nose, subtly rubbing at it, just trying to make the tingling sensation go away. Aditya figured he should consider himself lucky that he could even hold back any of his sneezes, though the consequence was being unable to get any sort of relief. His nose kept running, and he was constantly having to wipe it with a tissue or the back of his wrist. He was a sorry sight; hitching breath and watery eyes, a curled finger pressed beneath his nose in an effort to keep himself from sneezing. He was trying desperately to not appear too symptomatic in front of his patients and colleagues, though it was mostly in vain. The patients didn't seem to notice nor care about the state he was in, but the other hospital personnel definitely did, and he honestly didn't even want to know what they thought of him right now.

Never in his life had Aditya been so grateful for the veteran nurses and ER technicians, which was saying something, because he was always grateful for them. They all less than gently pushed him out of the patients' rooms and simply had him sign off on charts and treatments, much to his dismay. Talking to the patients was his favorite part of the job; patient care was the entire reason he'd gone through all of those hellish years of medical school, after all. Though, considering he could barely even hold a conversation without his voice cracking or his breath hitching every few words as he fought back the urge to sneeze, it was probably for the best that the other staff members were letting him do the bare minimum in terms of patient contact. Even just submitting referrals for patients was a nightmare, sniffling constantly and tightly pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger to keep himself from sneezing. He looked so pathetic, eventually a couple of the nurses either took pity on him, or just wanted to be rid of his incessant sniffles for a while, and talked him into taking a break when things slowed down. Aditya was in absolutely no condition to argue, and simply offered a tired, grateful smile before pushing himself away from the computer.

He didn't even know if he wanted to head all the way over to the hospital staff break room, and opted to head to the first responder break room; it was much closer, and really, all he wanted to do was get off his feet for a bit. He pushed open the door, and sat heavily in one of the chairs, his entire body cold and aching. Logically, he knew he should’ve called out, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it; the guilt would’ve killed him quicker than this cold was going to.

"H'aATSCHEW! Hah- hk'ESCHEW!" Aditya pitched forward, barely managing to pull a tissue from his pocket and cup it over his nose before a couple desperate, messy sneezes exploded out of him. He sniffled thickly, coughing a couple times as his nose itched terribly. "Hh'ESCHEEW! hAH'KESHEW! Hh- heh- hH- heh'ETSCHEWW! hh'aASCHEW! hk'ATSCHEW!" He let out a quiet, relieved moan; it felt so good to finally be able to allow himself to sneeze after barely managing to hold it back all day.

"Yikes, that doesn't sound too good."

Aditya's head snapped up at the sound of another voice, managing a small smile at the familiar face of the friendly firefighter paramedic. "Hey, Levi," he croaked, sniffling and rubbing his nose with the soggy tissue in his hand. "Yeah, I- I've definitely caught a cold…"

Levi hummed, pulling up a chair and sitting beside him, placing the back of her hand on his forehead. "Mm, you're a little warm, but not too bad. You sound awful, though," she told him, pulling her hand away again.

He wished her hand had stayed on his forehead for a bit longer, yearning for a tender, caring touch, though he didn’t dare voice it. "I feel awful," he muttered, blowing his nose and letting out a few more irritated coughs. "But we're understaffed, and I kinda have to be here, so…"

She rolled her eyes. "It's emergency medicine. We're always understaffed. Doesn't stop everyone else from calling out all the time," she told him. "You'd tell anyone else to go home."

"I know, I know," he sighed, sniffling again. Aditya didn’t have a good excuse for that. Sure, he could tell her that he wasn't everyone else, that that didn't apply to him, that he had to be there, but he knew Levi would rip him a new one if he said any of it out loud. "But I can still be of use here. And I'm only working a 24 this time, so it's not that bad."

"A 24, if you're lucky," she replied, giving him a sympathetic look.

Aditya nodded ruefully. "If I'm lucky," he echoed, sniffling again as he tried to keep his nose from running.

"Holy shit, man, is that your voice right now?" Another medic walked in, raising a brow at Aditya. "You sound like shit."

Aditya sighed, waving at him. "Nice to see you, too, Matthew," he muttered, coughing as quietly as he could into the tissue.

"Lay off, Parker," Levi hissed, shooting him a pointed look. "He's sick."

"Yeah, no shit," Matthew responded, choosing to sit on the table rather than opting for a chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned closer to Aditya, looking the doctor up and down. "You got the plague or somethin'? What am I working with here?"

"Just a cold," Aditya assured him, sniffling again and rubbing his nose, trying and failing to stave off another sneeze. "H'ESHEW! hk'aATSCHEW! Hah- hh- hHH- h'ASCHEEW! hah'ETSCHEWW! hh'keESCHHEW!" He let out a quiet whine as he rubbed his red, swollen nose.

Matthew stared at him for a moment. "Goddamn. Alright, whatever you say," he muttered, shaking his head. Like Levi, he reached out to place his palm on Aditya's forehead, checking him for a fever. Unsatisfied with just that, Matthew pressed the backs of his fingers against his cheek. "Eh, you're not too feverish. You'll live."

Matthew's hand was calloused, but kind, his touch sweetly disarming to Aditya, who he couldn’t help but lean into his hand. He let his eyes slip shut, saying nothing, but feeling entirely too much. He wasn't entirely accustomed to any touch being so mercifully soft, and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh, allowing his body to relax a bit as he sucked in another sniffle.

Matthew froze in place, glancing over at Levi, who simply shrugged, and slightly nodded her head towards Aditya, silently urging him to continue on. With that, Matthew shifted his attention back to the sick doctor, gently rubbing his cheek with a finger, trying to comfort him, the stubble on Aditya's face a reminder that he'd need to shave himself soon.

Levi stood up to retrieve a box of tissues, then sat back down with it in her lap, offering a couple to Aditya. "Here. You look like you could use a whole lot more of these," she commented, giving him a lopsided smile.

He nodded, taking the tissues from her and managing a small, shy smile. Reluctantly, he leaned away from Matthew's touch, blowing his nose as quietly as he could, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment that all of the attention was on him. He coughed a few more times, desperately trying to keep his cold to himself, though he never was the best at containing his germs. His nose began twitching again, his breath hitching as he tried to fight back the urge to sneeze again, sniffling helplessly. "C-can I- hh- can I have an-nother ti- hiiH- hih’SCHEWW! hah'ETSCHEW! hk'ATSCHEW! h'aASCHHEEW!"

Levi couldn't manage to hand him a tissue in time, but was successfully able to grab a couple more tissues and cup them over his nose herself. If nothing else, at least being a paramedic meant her reflexes for catching other people's bodily fluids were razor sharp. The box of tissues had fallen off her lap when she'd jumped up, her free hand around his shoulders to provide gentle support as he pitched forward into her hand, the sneezes exploding out of him. "I got you," she murmured, rubbing his back soothingly.

Aditya sniffled miserably, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, not wanting to look at either of them after that display. "S-sorry…" he squeaked, coughing a few times into the tissues Levi still held for him, blushing heavily, wanting to reach up to take them from her, but being too mortified to move.

"It's fine, Adi. Really," she assured him, sliding her arm around him to give him a side hug and giving him a gentle squeeze. "We're all friends here."

Matthew nodded in agreement, reaching a hand out to affectionately ruffle Aditya's hair. "You want a coffee?" He asked, sliding himself off the table and walking towards the coffee maker in the break room. "It's what Hawkins and I came here for in the first place, so we're making some, anyway."

"Oh, yeah, I'll fucking die if I have to run another call before I can get any caffeine in my system," Levi replied, giving Aditya a wry smile. "Something warm might do you some good, though."

Aditya thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that's- yeah, please. That sounds really nice," he said, glancing up at Levi, then over to Matthew, his tired eyes filled with immense gratitude. He tried his best to swallow down a fit of coughs, but couldn't manage to hold them back, and ducked his head, coughing into his hand.

Levi patted his back as he coughed, frowning in concern. "I know damn well a cough this bad didn't start just now," she muttered, soothingly rubbing his back as his coughing died down. "How long have you been sick?"

"All day…" he admitted, his voice weak. "I woke up with a sore throat and a stuffy nose, and it's just been getting worse… I ha- haah- haven't been able to stop sn- snee- hh'ESCHEEW! heh'eESCHHEW! heh'ETSCHEW! hah'kESCHHEWW! ht'SCHEEW! hh- hhH- hH'aASCHEW!" Aditya groaned, leaning forward to rub his aching nose with his fingers, his sinuses throbbing with congestion.

She winced in sympathy, picking up the tissue box and wordlessly holding it out to him. "Have you taken anything for this yet?" She asked, tilting her head slightly.

Aditya shook his head, taking a few tissues and blowing his nose several times, trying fruitlessly to clear his blocked nose. "Everything that helps makes me tired," he replied, sniffling thickly. "And I can't afford to be any more tired than I already am."

Levi hummed. "At least get some cough drops or something," she murmured, setting the tissues on the table in front of him. "Or, like, some Vick's."

"Or ibuprofen," Matthew butted in, dividing the coffee he'd made into three to-go cups.

Levi looked over her shoulder at him, narrowing her eyes at him. "He's on escitalopram, stupid," she told him, sticking her tongue out at him.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Just call it lexapro, you pretentious bitch," he shot back, sticking his tongue out in return.

She gave an eyeroll of her own. "I didn't suffer through pharmacology to not use actual drug names."

"And I didn't go into the fire service to have to use them."

"Sort of came with the medic license, though, didn't it?"

"So did the neck and shoulder pain. Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it."

Levi gave him a smug little smile. "So you admit that you have to use the proper terms, then? That it's not just optional for your dumb little firefighter brain?"

He snorted. "Shut the fuck up. We wear the same uniform." Matthew brought two of the cups back over to the table, setting one down and handing the other to Aditya with an easy smile. "A couple ibuprofen won't kill you, ya know."

Aditya held the cup in his hands, sniffling softly as he looked down at it. "I- I know that, but I just-" He sighed, taking a sip of the steaming beverage and grimacing; plain black coffee was always far too bitter for him, and it didn't help that it was the shitty break room coffee. "I just don't want to…"

Levi grabbed the cup Matthew had set on the table, attempting to gulp it all down in one go, but stopping immediately when the scalding liquid burned her tongue and damn near made her choke. She shook her head, then took a much slower sip as she looked over at Matthew, giving him a playful, knowing smirk. "He actually cares about his health. I know what a foreign concept that is to you, Parker."

He scoffed, and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he huffed, going back to grab the other cup of coffee for himself. He glanced over at Aditya as he brought the cup to his lips. "Acetaminophen, then?"

Aditya thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, that's fine," he replied softly, feeling rather ashamed about the fact that he'd declined ibuprofen. He knew it worked better for him, he knew the chances of anything terrible happening were slim, but he just couldn’t bring himself to risk it. He barely even touched caffeine these days, as much as he could use it, too paranoid that something would go wrong. The coffee in his hands was an exception, he reasoned, and besides, it wasn't like he was even planning on drinking all of it. He took another sip, and sniffled again. "Sorry…"

Levi arched a brow. "What are you apologizing for?" She asked, sitting back down and swinging her legs a bit as she drank her coffee.

He was silent for a moment, trying to think of a response that wouldn't earn a lecture from the two firefighters. His breath hitched as he built up to another sneeze, saving him from having to answer. "hh- huhh- hHH- h'ASCHEEW! hah'ESCHEWW! hh'keESCHHEW! hk'aATSCHEW! h'ESCHEWW!" Aditya sneezed towards his lap, immediately beginning to cough once he'd finished, blood rushing to his already rosy cheeks as he fought for desperate little gasps of air between coughs.

"Fucking christ, man," Matthew muttered as he drank his coffee, looking at Aditya over the rim of the cup. "Don't keel over in here, of all places."

"Best place to do it, though, honestly," Levi replied, sighing as she gave Aditya a worried look. "Seriously, though, are you gonna be alright?"

He nodded. "I'll be fine," he whispered, not daring to speak louder lest he set off another coughing fit. "I know you guys have to get back to work."

"Yeah, unfortunately," Matthew grumbled, quickly gulping down the rest of his coffee and tossing the cup in the trash can. "I'll go grab some tylenol from the rig real quick. Oh, and we have hella pre-workout, if you need the extra energy boost."

Levi nodded. "Shit ton of flavors, too." She rolled her eyes playfully at Aditya's slightly horrified look. "Don't look at us like that. We've gotta survive those 3am calls somehow."

"That's- I'll manage without it," he replied, rubbing his nose with the back of his wrist.

"I'll just grab the pills, then," Matthew said, heading for the door.

"Parker!" Levi called, stopping him before he left. "They're in my-"

"I know where you keep them," he cut her off, continuing out the door and walking to the ambulance. He grabbed a couple pills from Levi's bag, then quickly brought them back, and offered them to the doctor, who quickly accepted them.

Aditya swallowed them down with a few more small sips of coffee, looking up to meet Matthew's eyes. "Thanks," he croaked, coughing a couple more times.

"Mhm, no problem. Just try not to die, will ya?" He said, giving him a grin. 

Levi shot Matthew a look, then gave Aditya a pat on the shoulder before checking her watch and standing up. "We should probably get going before dispatch loses their shit at us," she muttered, taking another sip of her coffee.

Matthew groaned, and tossed the keys to her, chuckling when she fumbled them and glared at him. "No way in hell am I driving again. You can do it for the next few hours," he said, stepping out of the break room before Levi could argue.

She huffed, though the smile on her face told him that she wasn't actually annoyed. She turned to look at Aditya one last time as she followed after Matthew. "We'll text you later," she told him, walking towards the door. "Maybe we can swing by your place once we clock out?"

That earned a genuine smile from Aditya, who nodded, his tired eyes brightening just a bit. "That'd be nice," he agreed, waving at them both as they walked out. His smile fell a bit as he watched the pair walk out together, Matthew laughing as he ruffled Levi's hair. For all their banter and playful bickering, it was clear that they really did care deeply about the other. Aditya didn’t know if he was jealous, or just lonely. He sighed, grabbing a couple handfuls of tissues and pocketing them, then grabbing one more to blow his nose into. He tossed the mostly untouched coffee and used tissues into the trash as he walked out, sniffling as he got back to work.

The poor man looked absolutely abysmal, his eyes watery and his nose red, taking in raspy breaths through his chapped lips. He was fortunate that none of the patients in the ER were critical, or needed a diagnosis or treatment that required much brain power. His job right now was just looking over the EKG results the techs ran, consulting with the nurses, checking in on patients and discussing treatment, and signing discharge papers, all of which was more than alright with him. It left him with more time to reconsider his life's choices.

His head was throbbing, and his sinuses felt like they were packed with concrete, and he was wondering why he'd even decided to work in a goddamn emergency department in the first place. It was miserable at best more than half the time, and truly, the nurses and ER techs did more for the patients than he ever did. Perhaps he would've been better off if he'd picked a different specialty; maybe cardiology, or even OB.

Or maybe he could've been a paramedic, had he wanted to stay in emergency medicine. The pay was much worse, but he could handle that if it meant he could still help people, and he'd always be working with a partner. Maybe even one he'd be close to, like Levi and Matthew were. The ER was a lonely place for him, despite the fact that he was constantly surrounded by a plethora of people, and the idea of working on an ambulance for hours with the same person to talk to and laugh with sounded awfully enticing, though he couldn't help but wonder if he was romanticizing it. And besides, he reasoned, it was too impersonal for him. The idea of picking someone up and handing them over to someone else to probably never see again didn't sit well with him at all. That, and his parents would’ve absolutely killed him had he even suggested a career in the medical field that was anything less than a doctor.

Another fit of deep, rattling coughs shook him from his thoughts. Adventitious breaths reverberated through his lungs, and he knew that he would undoubtedly hear the telltale sounds of rhonchi he was so used to hearing in his patients if he were to check. Tears stung at his eyes, though he managed to hold them back, albeit just barely. He groaned softly, shutting his eyes for just a moment and massaging his temples. Aditya cracked his eyes open again, and glanced at his watch, which told him that he was still on the clock for entirely too long. He thought for a moment about going home sick, but those thoughts were quickly dashed when one of the ER techs practically materialized in front of him, charts in hand.

"EKG from the patient in room 26," they said, handing it to Aditya. "Looks like a STEMI."

Fuck. So much for an easy rest of the day. He took the EKG, looking it over. Or, more accurately, squinting at it. On a good day without his reading glasses, it was a bit of a struggle to make out the thin lines of a cardiac rhythm, but he was sick, and gods, he couldn’t see shit, let alone make out an ST elevation. After a couple more seconds of struggling, he gave up, and decided to just trust the tech's judgment; they were rarely ever wrong, and they saw the patients for far longer and far more often than he did. "...I'll page cardio," he replied, immediately clearing his throat and coughing a couple more times when he realized just how awful he sounded. "Can you move the patient to the trauma bay?"

"Already on it." The tech took the EKG back, then turned around and walked off again.

Aditya tried desperately not to sneeze as he sent for one of the cardiologists on call, then headed for the trauma bay, his head foggy. It was already crowded with nurses and techs, bustling around and working with practiced ease. Aditya felt like he was playing the hardest game of jump rope, trying to figure out where to jump in and when. Normally, he was so good at figuring out where he was needed and what he was supposed to be doing, but the lights were so blindingly bright, and it was entirely too loud, and he felt like his head might split open.

Mercifully, the cardiologist arrived, taking a copy of the patient's EKG and looking it over once before handing it right back. "STEMI," he confirmed, already backing out of the trauma bay. "Bring her up to the cath lab when she's ready."

Aditya could work with that. He sniffled once more before pulling on a pair of gloves and placing himself at the patient's head as the nurses started IVs. "I need an intubation kit." He spoke as loud as he could manage, but it still wasn't much with how absolutely wrecked his throat felt. Nonetheless, it worked, and he was handed what was needed. He thought for a moment, then glanced over at one of the techs, blinking blearily at her for a moment as he struggled to form the words he wanted to say in his mind. "Um… did you- the patient, did- did anyone.. give her anything..?" He internally cringed at how bad that sounded, but he couldn’t think of a different way to ask in his current state.

She blinked at him, raising a brow in confusion. "...medication?" She asked, to which Aditya nodded. "Oh, yeah. Riley gave 5cc diazepam and 1cc midazolam IV a few minutes ago." She nodded her head towards one of the nurses.

Aditya nodded again. At least he knew that meant he was free to intubate, and he was certain he could manage to do that with practiced ease. Though, that was provided he didn't sneeze, which was a horrific thought, but one that was entirely likely. He sniffled thickly, and wrinkled his nose, trying to ward off the persistent tickle. He tilted the patient's head back and anchored it, then grabbed the blade, carefully inserting it into her mouth. Another sniffle, a squint to find the larynx, and he passed the tube through the trachea, breathing a sigh of relief when it went in smoothly.

He cleared his throat and swallowed, sniffling again as he removed his stethoscope from around his neck and checked the patient's breathing on both sides for a couple moments before giving the respiratory therapist a thumbs up and taking a step back, looping his stethoscope back around his neck. He watched the RT ventilate the patient for a moment, his gaze following the patient as one of the nurses and a tech helped wheel the patient out of the trauma bay and in the direction of the elevator.

He let out a soft sigh as the rest of the staff cleared the bay, then pulled off his gloves and threw them away. He held a hand beneath one of the hand sanitizer dispensers, and rubbed it into his hands, the strong scent of alcohol immediately hitting his already sensitive nose. Aditya's nostrils began flaring, his breath hitching, eyes tearing up as the urge to sneeze grew too overwhelming to ignore.

"Hh- hiiH- hhH- hHHH- hk'eESHEWW! hh'ESCHEW!" He sneezed desperately into his hand, coughing a few times and groaning, fishing another tissue from his pocket with his free hand and blowing his nose. He scrubbed at it with the tissue, wincing at the rough material scraping against his sore nose.

He felt like a walking biohazard, attempting to blow his nose one last time before tossing the soggy tissue into the trash and washing his hands. He felt awful exposing his coworkers to his cold, but at this point, it would be more trouble than it was worth to go home early. And besides, it was just a cold. He couldn’t justify going home over a stupid cold. He would simply have to finish up his shift, and hope that no big emergency happened so he wouldn't have to think and he could go home on time.

Luckily for him, the next few hours went by as smoothly as they could, and he clocked out and headed for his car. As he pulled out of the parking lot, he considered stopping somewhere to get food before heading home, but decided against it. He was exhausted, and didn't have much of an appetite, anyway. He tried to recall if he'd eaten at the hospital, but his brain was too foggy to remember if he'd allowed himself another break or stopped to grab a snack. It didn't matter, he decided, pulling into his driveway. He could always eat later.

Aditya was dead tired by the time he managed to drag himself into his house, practically falling through the door, but managing to keep himself upright. He briefly considered showering, figuring it might at least chase away some of his chills and relieve a bit of his congestion, but he decided against that, too; there was no way he could stay standing that much longer, and he didn't have the energy to run a bath.

"Hh- hhH- hiH- hh'keESCHHEW! h'ESCHEW! hhhH- huh'eETSCHEEW! hah'ETSCHEWW! hk'aATSCHEW!" Aditya let out several messy sneezes, sniffling miserably. He didn't bother covering his mouth; he was alone, anyway, and a quick glance at his watch reminded him that he would be for quite a while.

A bit of moisture clung to his eyelashes, which he tried to blink away, but the constant itch of his nose kept rewetting his eyes. He was absolutely miserable, curling up on the couch and clutching a pillow, close to tears as he held it tightly to his chest.

"h'ASCHEEW! hh'aASCHEWW! h'eESCHHEW! heh'ETSCHEW! ht'SCHEEW! hah'kESCHHEWW!" He could barely draw in a breath between sneezes, which he muffled into the pillow he held, sniffling and wiping his nose on it. Aditya let out a few painful coughs, groaning in agony at his aching throat and sore chest.

Everything hurt, and his limbs felt like lead. "hh'ESCHeww..!" He was too tired and breathless to even let out a satisfying sneeze, though it was still just as messy and productive as the rest, thick spray covering the pillow he was sneezing into.

Finally, the sob he'd been holding back choked its way out of his mouth, followed quickly by tears, like the first clap of thunder before the rain. His shoulders shook as he tried not to make a sound, having no reason to be silent, but having been conditioned to. His sniffles were the loudest thing about him, though the quiet whimpers coming from him were audible, as well.

Aditya coughed harshly, his body trembling. He wished more than anything that he wasn't alone, that someone would come through the door and help him, but like always, he was suffering alone and in silence. At best, Levi and Matthew would still be another few hours, and that was if they remembered he existed.

Truly, Aditya loved his friends, but their schedules tended to be less than predictable. And besides, it was stupid of him to expect them to come over right after they'd finished what he hoped was only a 48 hour shift. They both needed rest, too, and gods knew they deserved it, but the thought of being sick all by himself made him cry harder.

His cough was only getting worse, the fits much more frequent and intense now that he wasn't trying to hold them back. He was so tired, and his body was aching terribly. Aditya couldn't bring himself to move at all, not wanting to worsen the dull throb of congestion in his head. He was so cold, but couldn't muster the strength to even pull the blanket that was draped over the couch over his trembling body, trying to think of the last time he had felt so unwell, and what he had done then.

"hahH'ESCHHEW! hhk'eETSCHEWW! Hh- hhh- hHH- hh'kECHEWW! h'SCHHHEWW! h'ASCHEEW! hh'aASCHEWW! hah'ETSCHEWW!" His sneezes were constant, but no amount of them could satiate the itch in his nose. He sniffled, resorting to breathing through his mouth, which only irritated his throat more.

With a groan of discomfort, Aditya shut his eyes, trying to fall asleep before he started sneezing or coughing again. He held the pillow tighter, trying to imagine that he wasn't all alone, though he knew he was. Still, it couldn't hurt to just pretend for a while. He buried his face into the pillow, letting it absorb both his snot and his tears as he managed to doze off into a light, fitful sleep, too exhausted to do anything other than try to sleep. He could only hope that he would have the energy to at least attempt to take care of himself when he woke up.

[dukethomas]

duke? i know next to nothing about him and i'm curious <3

oh boy oh boy oh boy !!!!!!!! thank you for asking i love talking about duke

one aspect i love about them: i could list a million things rn but how about. this sense of personal responsibility that is both a strength and a vice for him but in a way unique to the "great power comes great responsibility" model of heroics. duke feels like he has this responsibility to better the world, he feels responsible for his loved ones and ppl he deems under his care, but not because he's uniquely special. instead he feels like it's something everyone owes the community. he monologues abt how you can make that choice, to choose to do good or inflict evil. he holds bruce to this personally--confronting him about using his amnesia to ignore his responsibilities as batman. he has the weight of the world on his shoulders and don't get me wrong he isolates himself like crazy and tries to tackle it all alone but it's because he believes this is just what everyone should be doing. he doesn't view himself as particularly special or powerful, this is just his job. his calling !!!

the rest of the answers under the cut bc i talked a lot

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: there's a lot of really obvious answers that i'm going to skip over bc they've been said to death. instead i think i'm going to say i wish ppl understood he's not like. the mentally healthy bat. when he's not doing so hot and crumbling under the weight he has put on his own shoulders he self isolates he gets snappy and bitchy and closed off he gets into fights he gets self destructive. he's allergic to asking for help. and also he is very frequently in a bad place because he's a teenager that's what they do + in comic time he goes through like. a traumatic event every month. his status quo is constantly changing because of the nature of comics but in universe that means the longest, most stable period he's had in a while is, like, the year he spent training with bruce wayne, inflictor of mental illnesses. come on now

one (or more) headcanons i have about this character: i will elaborate on this in a post sometime but i believe his powers are about potential. snyder lore posits that metahumans somehow are created by nth metal. proximity to nth metal sparks duke's powers in a snyder comic, and duke himself is a snyder creation, so i figure this implies duke has a unique connection to nth metal. which is where i believe his meta amplification comes from in batman and the signal, another snyder comic. maybe if i read more of the snyder lore than just the duke parts i'd understand it more.

regardless, this connection to the source of metahumans could mean a million things but in line with the themes in we are robin about choice, i think it indicates great potential in duke. also, in alternate futures for duke--tales from the dark multiverse & urban legends #8-9 outsiders story--his powers have increased substantially in different directions. in the dark multiverse, his first canonical powers are amplified so much he has to actively suppress them or else he. can't see. but also those powers fuel him with one key thing that leads him to be the last survivor of the multiverse, which is his hope. and then in urban legends, future duke is just a badass who is a powerful mage???? which is something duke becomes, once again, to survive the way the world becomes. taking from a canon example, ra's and ishmael are able to invert duke's powers entirely, giving him his umbrakinesis. literally what other meta can this happen to!! anyways, my headcanon is that because of his inherent connection to the source of metahumans, his great power lies in the potential to become whatever he needs to be to keep fighting the good fight. whatever he needs to be to keep trying to make the world better. i think in the canon timeline, where the future will never become desolate, where duke will never become so desperate, he won't need to unlock his full potential, and he wouldn't choose to, because he's not that kind of guy. but the potential simmers under his skin, waiting for when he does need it. when he chooses it.

one character i love seeing them interact with: how do i choose one. i'm going to speed run a bunch of them. cass & duke are genuinely such supportive sibs like they back each other up it's so nice to read!! my besties!!! bruce & duke is interesting in the way duke comes from the era where they start pushing the fanon batfamily more, and so you get a bruce that does seem more supportive, and it really is bruce's healthiest relationship w a mentee bc he 1) positively reinforces duke 2) has never beat him up nor tried to. low low bar. but you can still see. bruce harps on how duke's the future of heroism. how he is going to lead the way, how he's "something different." and he pushes duke, and trains duke personally and assigns him day shift and puts him on the outsiders. and duke feeds into that by insisting the mission IS bruce's responsibility. they make each other worse is what i'm saying. jeff & duke are fun for opposite reasons, because jeff believes in duke just as much but also can intervene and stop duke when needed. just a nice positive relationship with an authority figure for duke it's nice :D

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: pipe dream. renee. i have a very self indulgent au draft where duke becomes renee's mentee instead through sheer stubborn force of will and she is so annoyed with him all the time and also after the 5th or 6th time this teenager tracks you down as you work various cases you get a little fond. she'd never say that to him though are you kidding he'd get worse and more annoying. mainline renee and duke could have a fun detective story as well i think as two ppl with very different ways of operating who use their individual strengths to solve the mystery and also throws in juxtaposition of the ways their depressions manifest in there or smth. my other answer that doesn't throw my 2 dc faves together is duke meets anissa and jen pierce i think that could be fun!! jeff introduces them and then regrets it. also i wish damian and duke talked more after robin war the post-robin war dynamic that lives in my brain is great

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: going to keep this one short bc i've said so much already. i headcanon the narrows as a large neighborhood in gotham and park row/crime alley as a smaller, really well-known part of that neighborhood, to avoid having 2 worst neighborhoods in gotham. anyways this means jason and duke grew up in the same neighborhood and oh boy do they rip each other a new one for that. half the time their convos are incomprehensible to non-narrows residents bc it's just insults from coming from opposite sides of the neighborhood and those insults are very narrows-specific. jason texts duke during the climax battle in batman and the signal and goes "how tf did you let narrows go to shit your first day. i wouldn't have let this happen. crime alley kids are just built different ig"

[spectralsleuth]

Saw you were lookin’ for some asks dont mind if I do 👀

To start off, I’m such a big fan of your writing! I genuinely look forward to every single update of yours and find myself rereading a lot of work in the downtime. You are such a good writer!! My never ending praises aside, here are some asks!

-You incorporate OC’s into your fics so seamlessly! They feel so natural in your fics that I legit get excited anytime they show up (srsly can’t wait for Lou Jitsu vs Hidden City, Sal’s my boy) lol how do you find the right balance when introducing and maintaining OC’s in your fics? I feel like that’s a particularly difficult balance beam to tread but you absolutely crush it.

-A previous ask you answered about Cass and Raph in LSoW got me thinking; how do the brothers handle humans crushing on them? Would they be receptive or dismissive? Do they develop crushes on humans- and if so, how is that perceived (by family or the general public)? The drama 👀

Last ask, I promise:

-I absolutely loved your crossover with Empathy is Learned! Got anymore crossovers planned in the future? Oooor if you could do a crossover with any other fic, which one(s) would it/they be??

Thanks for taking the time to even look at this! I hope these are some fun asks for ya :) I hope you have a lovely day!!

Omg thanks so much... I'm so happy people enjoy my writing it's crazy to me. I've written before, but it's always been just for myself so I never really know if it was good or not. (Years of text based DnD is to thank lol.) (Okay I got carried away answering this so sorry in advance.)

On OC's:

I got a lot of comments on LSoW from people who say "generally I don't like OC's BUT-" which is so funny and flattering. Because I am absolutely one of those people who don't care for OC's in fic.

Let me be clear: I LOVE that people write self indulgent self-insert of OC based fic, where they make the craziest off the wall story etc. Every time a fifteen year old writes a story about the cringiest Mary-sue/stu self insert, or non canon character, an angel gets its wings and I mean that one hundred percent. It makes me so happy I literally grin when I see it. I HOWEVER generally filter out the OC tags on AO3 when I'm looking for something to read myself.

So when I started posting LSoW I was expecting to get maybe like, 100 kudos MAX, maybe one comment or so. Which is great! I love writing niche fic just for me, and one other person who I assume I must be drift compatible with. I just could not figure out a way to write the story I wanted without a few OC's- Rise didn't have a big enough character catalog for me to draw from!

When I went to write the OC's, I knew that they had to have a very simple backstory, that was also very fleshed out. (Xander and Sal have full family, Dr. Heo and Carter have full jobs and history together, etc.) For another contradiction I wanted them to be interesting enough that someone reading wouldn't just be skipping ahead to when they weren't present, or just simply plowing through to get past the part where they were doing exposition. They had to be enjoyable! While also forwarding the story!

They also had to be distinct. Anyone who's ever watched a Whedon show or movie (Buffy, Firefly, Avengers-) knows what I'm talking about. It drives me nuts when the characters in a show are constantly the funniest person in the room, with the same personality traits, and the same girl boss/badass tendencies.

(Fandom challenge Impossible: Give a female fan favorite character another trait besides 'girlboss/mom/lesbian'. I'm dead serious.)

(Also a disclaimer: I LOVE making jokes and doing bits. I FANCY that I'm pretty funny, and I love making people laugh. But you can do that without making it a character personality trait. For example: Xander doesn't really crack any jokes in LSoW! He's just funny because we the reader know more about the situation and his thoughts than he does.)

But the BIGGEST THING I kept telling myself while writing the story, was DO NOT TAKE AWAY FROM THE TURTLES. Because the whole point of the story is the turtles! And Yoshi! The OC's are there to facilitate that. It's a hard balance to hit. I have all sorts of touchstones I keep in mind while I'm writing, and that's a big one.

(A SUPER good example of this done super well is @faiakishi 's Bella from Dawning of the Hour. She's a great OC that's super interesting, and a super important narrative element, but she never detracts from the main story. Big Bella fan here lmao. There's also the rest of the OC's/interpretations of franchise characters (TIGERCLAW), but Bella stands out as truly original.)

On the Turtles dating Humans:

(CW: CSA mention, SA mention, non graphic talk of minors dating etc.)

I actually talked a lot about this to @/tangledinink in feverish discord chats lmao.

When the boys were growing up they got a very detailed talk from both Yoshi, and their Doctors. ONE: Because nobody will know better than themselves if something was medically wrong with their bodies, TWO: The boys are all intersex (minus Mikey) and they had to understand that there was nothing wrong with them on TOP of the turtle thing, and THREE: Because Yoshi knew the boys would be getting a lot of attention, and you never know what kind of attention that form will take.

THE BEST WAY to protect children (any child) from being sexually assaulted or abused, is making sure they know what that abuse LOOKS LIKE. You don't have to make them terrified of being sexually assaulted, but them knowing how their body works, and also how to say NO and set boundaries, will combine to help make them safer.

Yoshi didn't know what would happen in the future and in a perfect world the boys would never leave his line of sight, but that's not always how things happen. (In a Short Season, Xander parroted Yoshi's instructions before going out to make sure the boys knew what to do if someone grabbed them (in any way) and it was to bite and be loud.) So the boys grew up knowing their bodies, knowing how to say 'no', and knowing that there was probably going to be people out there who would treat them as a novelty, and who wouldn't be appropriate to them as celebrities OR non-humans.

(Remember Emma Watson having to deal with that countdown to her turning 18? Or any other amount of child stars who had to deal with adults being predatory to them.)

But ALSO THIS IS HAMATO YOSHI. His sons are HANDSOME and HEARTBREAKERS! Leo has dated a lot but never anything seriously, and his inability to be intimate with anyone but family kind of puts a damper on any more permanent relationship. (He is gay.) He's the number one turtle people ask out because he's the most approachable. Because he made himself that way!

Donnie is in a sort of relationship with Kendra. (THIS WILL BE A FIC I'm working up to it lmao.) I have a head canon that Yokai and other empyrean based creatures are capable of having rivalry based relationships. IE Yoshi and Draxum in the canon show, the unhealthy dynamic between Yoshi and Big Mama, etc. (Caliginous relationship) Donnie is in a puppy love version of that with Kendra, while also lacking the context of yokai society to understand why he wants to punch her very badly, but also if anything happened to her he would die. They hate each others guts and also she was his first kiss. She is not a nice person I am not a Kendra apologist she's terrible I love her. (Donnie is bi!)

I know a lot of people head canon Mikey as ace, but he is a thirteen year old child you don't have to be head canoning him as anything. it is the very rare 13 year old who knows their orientation, and even if they DO I bet you donuts to dollars it will change eventually. This is normal and healthy. Mikey in LSoW has had puppy crushes on boys, girls, teachers, Violet, the mailman, Adam, and Rupert Swaggert. (Eugh eugh eugh.)

Raph is absolutely irresistible to the entire student body and is completely unaware of it. He's not stupid but he's face blind and bad at picking up subtext in conversations. He's gone to multiple people's houses and spent the whole day with them, without realizing they were trying to make it a date. (Raph is bi.)

All the boys have considered identifying as girls since their Dad is the martial arts equivalent of David Bowie and Fine With That, but have settled (for now) on being boys (age 10 the last time they considered this) because quote 'Lou Jitsu and Jupiter Jim are boys and they're awesome' unquote.

They don't get any fucking privacy for their relationships, and Leo in particular had a very bad experience that closed him off from dating big time. (Stamps 'THIS WILL BE A FIC' on this as well.) But also, as of the LSoW canon they are like, 12-14 and not doing a lot of dating ANYWAY. They are BABIES.

(Enter Casey Jones)

ON CROSSOVERS:

I have one crossover with my white whale of authors (you know who you are) I have pecked at with them that I think everyone will go fucking nuts for and love, but I won't mention it in case we can't get it off the ground! (A completely okay and normal thing to happen lmao.) I think that one will end up happening though because I am too excited about it, even if it's not any time soon.

I am super open to crossovers and cowriting, especially since writing with Li because I learned SO MUCH it was like speed running improvement.

The thing is it has to fit! There's some crossovers that wouldn't have a lot of substance because there's not really a lot to cover. When it came to EiL for example, there was PLENTY to cover and do, it was so fun! But other fics might not have a lot we could do for each other. (At least, not until I get some more world building done.)

That being said I do love talking crossovers with other creators it's so fun...

If you guys ever want to use my OC's feel free, just ask me in advance! I don't mind pings.

THESE ASKS ARE FUN THANKS FOR SENDING THEM I feel like you just threw a steak into my zoo exhibit. I am recharged and rejuvenated my crops are watered my skin is clear. This felt very pretentious to write I am mortified.

[thatnerdinthecorner]

Reason I HAte Jamie No. 46849

'If I hadn't believed in you I wouldn't have loved you at all' from If I Didn't Believe In You

so much of this show is Cathy thinking about her insecurities. Jamie is so successful and she isn't, and throughout the show we get her talent confused with her insecurity: in Climbing Uphill we see her unsuccessful audition and how terribly it goes, and we as an audience are supposed to think she's a bad actress/singer, but she spends the summer touring, and we know that this is something that she does regularly:

'Is it just that you're disappointed To be touring again for the summer?'

Touring isn't a bad job for an actor. It's not Broadway, it's not her dream, but it's a good job and it takes work and talent. Jason Robert Brown got sued by his ex, and consequently had to change parts of the show because it was too close to the reality of their marriage. In other words, the writer is Jamie, the entire show is told by Jamie, and even the songs from Cathy's perspective are written and told by Jamie. Given everything else in the show, I'm not particularly inclined to trust Jamie's account if he's the one telling us that she's bad at her job.

In If I Didn't Believe In You Cathy doesn't want to go to one of Jamie's work parties. She's feeling frustrated about her own career and doesn't feel like spending the evening faking it to appease Jamie's colleagues. So Jamie digs into that. The entire song is very manipulative, but with these lines it fits into a continued theme throughout the show of saying that because Cathy hasn't managed to reach the pinnacle of an incredibly competitive field that she is automatically bad at her job and completely unskilled. Which we know isn't true, because otherwise she wouldn't be touring.

When Jamie says:

'If I hadn't believed in you I wouldn't have loved you at all'

what he's really saying is if I didn't think you would be successful, I wouldn't love you. But because her success is constantly conflated with her talent, when Jamie is talking about her success, he's also talking about her talent, so he's also saying that his love for her is dependent on her being talented, which he is measuring by her success.

Also, for the rest of the song Jamie says 'If I didn't believe in you' not 'hadn't'. I'm probably simplifying this a lot, but in this context, 'Didn't' works in the past and the conditional present tense. 'Hadn't' works in the past and conditional past tense. When Jamie switches to 'hadn't' at the end, he's saying that his belief in her is in the past tense. When Jamie says 'I wouldn't have loved you' that's in past tense too. His belief in her, and his love for her, which are intrinsically tied, are both in the past tense, because she has failed, because she is untalented. The song ends with him confirming all of her worst insecurities and saying he no longer loves her, and the next and final line is:

'Now why don't you put on your dress and we'll go, okay? Cathy? Can we do that, please? Please?'

In other words, the last few lines of this song is Jamie saying telling his wife yes, you're right, you don't have a good job, and you'll never get a better one, you'll never be successful, because you're not talented, and I don't love you anymore, because I only loved you because I thought that you could be successful one day, so why don't you just shut up, stop whining and do as I say, and come to my party to celebrate me and my work and my success.

I hate this man more that I can say.

[missbabyjay]

What Is This? - Joel Miller x F Reader

TLOU SPOILERS!

MASTERLIST - CHECK OUT MY PAGE FOR MORE!

HI! This takes place in my own made up dimension lol. I followed parts of the actual show, and then completely disregarded other parts. I plan on leaving Bill and Frank in, but I wasn't sure about Tess (no hate to her character). This is sorta self-indulgent so I hope you enjoy anyway! I think I might make a part two but I need to know what y'all think :)

I'd also like to point out that I am just becoming familiar with Joel. I would like to keep him rough around the edge, but I think there's truly a sweet person under there and I need some fluffier stuff with him. I'm seeing way too many pieces where Joel is next level crazy. So this is for my fluff lovers.

Warnings/Content: Mature, Swearing, Angst, injury, the tiniest bit of fluff

Summary: You and Joel don't particularly enjoy each other, but with the shared responsibility of Ellie you're stuck together - being forced to address whatever weird thing there is between you two.

Word Count: 2K

. . .

You had been working alongside Joel for the past two years. You had met through Tess, doing odd jobs for her. Joel never seemed to trust you, although he never really trusted anyone. He didn’t enjoy your attitude, and found you to be sloppy at your job. The two of you were similar in one way; you had enough of the corrupt shit occurring in the QZ. You wanted to get away, you craved freedom - even if that meant living among the infected. You craved life outside of the walls… away from FEDRA.

Besides that, you and Joel butt heads like two mountain goats; fighting for dominance in the partnership you shared. You both had cold, yet overpowering personalities. Your morals were long gone. You both had an incredible amount of trauma constantly sitting on your shoulders, making the linger of tension much stronger between you two.

You insisted that you’d be able to handle yourself outside of the walls. You had experienced life among the ruined world before making it to Boston… how did he figure you ended up there anyway? The only reason you agreed to transporting Ellie was in hopes of finding new life, somewhere far away from the Boston QZ. With or without Joel, you didn’t care. In fact, you could say you were using him as leverage to get out of here - he knew the secret ways out, where to go when you reached the open world outside of the large, consuming and towering walls that encapsulated you within the fucked up corrupt society you lived in.

It had been a tense few days since you left the QZ. Plans changed and you were left with the responsibility of Ellie; something neither you or Joel really wanted. You trudged your feet forward, following behind the two. You knew there were a few places that Joel stashed extra items, making you hopeful for a pit stop. Your legs ached, sending shooting pains to your feet. Each step you took forward made you wince with pain… this sort of trek was easier before you got comfortable with your sedentary life within the QZ.

“We’re gonna stop right up here, stay back… I’m gonna check inside,” Joel instructed you and Ellie. 

You sighed, sending a gentle smile to Ellie who reciprocated. You appreciated Ellie’s attitude. She didn’t really have much of a filter and she stood up for herself; respectable for a fourteen year old, you thought to yourself. You wished you were the same way when you were fourteen. You will never forget being that age; that was the year the outbreak began.

As always, you didn’t listen to Joel. You proceeded forward causing him to let out a low, powerful, “No.” To which you responded by rolling your eyes.

The two of you followed behind Joel, and when you entered the building you were met with a run down gas station. Yet the ravaged sight was genuinely nostalgic to you. You couldn’t remember the last time you were in a gas station. Your brain flooded back to pre-apocalyptic life, a time where life was enjoyable; renting a movie, grabbing a slushy, indulging in some candy. Your hands glided along the dust covered shelves as you walked down the aisle. Ellie wandered off while Joel searched for his stash.

“So what’s your plan, old man?” You muttered to Joel as he continued trying to retrace his steps.

“Why’s it matter to you? Thought you could handle this on your own,” he grunted.

You continued tracing shapes and drawing in the dust, dragging your feet along. “You’d like that. Wouldn’t you?”

Joel stopped, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You continued stalking the aisles, but now you were staring into Joel’s eyes. He looked angry, a look that was quite familiar to you.

“I know you don’t even want me here. I don’t even want to be here with you. I’m sure there’s better people out there anyway,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes sarcastically.

Joel stopped his scattered movements to face you, quickly removing the space between the two of you.

His hand forcefully made its way to your delicate neck, pushing you against the end cap of the aisle. Your eyes widened as you gasped for air, “Look girl, you know you wouldn’t survive out there without me. And after losing Tess? I’m not losing you either.”

Joel stared into your eyes, into your soul. Your neck gulped under the strong grip of his hand - you struggled to gasp, your lungs were begging for air. He finally let go, causing you to intake a deep breath, trying to find the words, but instead tears began to well and you hurried out of the busted gas station.

Joel knew he fucked up. He didn’t know what came over him, but he couldn’t lose you or Ellie. Not necessarily out of love, but for the sake of his own ego, and guilt. Joel couldn’t handle anymore of that.

“Ellie!” He yelled out, searching for her in the building.

She slowly slid around the corner of the small office space, “What the fuck was that dude?”

Joel shook his head, “Let’s go. Now.” He demanded.

To Ellie’s surprise Joel ran out of the building. She quickly followed behind.

. . .

Your heart was racing as your chest expanded and closed in at a rapid pace. You tripped on a large tree chunk, leaving you sprawled on the ground. You pushed yourself to stand with the limited energy you had left. Your hands held you up as you used your knees for support, trying to not put too much pressure on your weak and injured foot. You attempted to get ahold of your breathing; the tears still falling down your dirtied face like a waterfall.

You didn’t understand… he cared about you?

The way he treated you since the beginning just didn’t match up with his words. What kind of game was he playing? He would throw cold, intimidating bitterness towards you for any small mistake. He didn't hesitate to put you in your place, and never paid you any attention that wasn't direly necessary.

You didn’t remember what it felt like to be cared about. You always ran from affection… even before the apocalypse.

You heard your name being called from afar, awakening your fight or flight to kick in - you wanted to run, as far as you could, but your body couldn’t withstand anymore; your legs continued to ache, your ankle was agonizing and your lungs felt like they were filled with blood. You were far more out of shape than you thought, leaving your inner weakness to overtake you. 

You decided to let the universe decide your destiny - you laid on the ground and waited, like bait. Either for Joel to find you, or an infected.

Your eyes wandered above you. You soaked in the leafy green trees towering over you. The sounds of nature filling your ears. The warm wind blowing against your rough skin. The earth below you felt cool and comforting. Your breathing began to slow and you found your eyes becoming heavy. As much as you wanted to fight it, you let them close and soon you were met with a hazy half-ass slumber - the best you could get in an apocalypse.

. . .

Joel felt panic wash over him. He just told you he couldn’t lose you, and yet here he was searching for you. “Where could she be?” he questioned as he began to feel that all too familiar feeling - guilt.

Ellie joined him in calling your name. She felt nervous too. She wasn’t sure if she could handle Joel after losing another person. His bitterness made this journey much harder, a journey she didn’t choose to be on.

Joel stopped dead in his tracks, and reached his arm out to stop Ellie from proceeding. He slowly raised his gun, and cautiously began walking forward, taking small, quiet steps in order to avoid creating too much noise. He didn’t have much ammo left and he had to make the most of it.

He saw a body laying in the middle of the path, could it be an infected? Or just a dead body? His heart dropped when he noticed it was you; eyes closed, body limp. His mind wandered to the worst possible place.

“Y/N!” He shook you lightly, cautiously, unsure of the situation. Just hopeful that you were okay. He saw your chest rising, indicating you were well alive. He soaked in the view of your face; your parted chapped lips, the delicate crows feet nestled beside your eyes, the dirt that laid on your face - that still looked so soft to him.

. . .

Your peaceful slumber was broken as your body was gently shook. You bolted up - defencive being the first thing you felt anytime you woke from sleep. “Y/N, woah girl it’s just me, Joel” his voice cooed, bringing you back to reality as he rubbed your arm.

“Oh, you,” fell out of your lips sarcastically, brushing Joel off as quickly as you could. You didn’t want to feel his touch - you didn’t know how to process his touch. Joel made you want to feel cared for again, maybe.

“I’m just uh- gonna go like 10 feet over there and let you two figure out whatever this is…” Ellie announced, awkwardly making her way over to a nearby tree where she could prop herself against, somewhat comfortably, while being able to protect her back.

You both eyed Ellie as she walked, both knowing she was your responsibility to protect, but also knowing the two of you had to figure out whatever fucked up situation this was.

You began to massage your ankle, wincing in pain. Fuck, what did I do. Joel looked down over you, concern and anger were plastered on his face.

“Why the fuck did you run Y/N? What is wrong with you? I said you couldn’t handle being alone and here I fucking find you… asleep in the middle of a forest… so vulnerable,” he exclaimed, aggressively grabbing your arm to pull you to your feet.

You resisted, but his power was all too much for you to fight against. The weight of yourself bearing on your ankle made it difficult for you to stand. You shrugged your shoulders. You weren’t sure exactly why you ran. Joel’s words made you feel something that you didn’t want to feel. You didn’t want a connection to anyone. You knew this sort of life meant relying on yourself and only yourself, and Joel was making that difficult.

You looked up to meet Joel's brown eyes. His dusted face looked concerned, not angry, for once. “Look, what you said… I'm not used to people saying that kinda shit to me. It’s hard to hear that someone doesn’t want me dead, I usually assume the opposite considering no one really cares about other people in this world,” you muttered out, struggling to keep contact with Joel's gaze.

Your body tensed as you were suddenly pulled into Joel's embrace. It wasn’t necessarily loving, but it felt protective. “Well I do care. I’m not gonna lose you. You may annoy the shit out of me but my world would be too quiet without your bitching,” he whispered into your ear. Sure, the words weren’t romantic or anything, but you knew Joel was being genuine. 

You pushed Joel away, “Okay,” you grunted, sending him a feeble smile through your pursed lips. “I’m gonna need you to tape me up. I fucked up my ankle earlier,” you lamented. 

Joel shook his head, “Of course you did. Here, sit back down,” he glowered. He called over Ellie to assist him and the two managed to tape your ankle making you able to lazily follow behind them as you continued your journey. 

“Where to?” you questioned, not sure what kind of answer you’d receive.

“Bill and Franks,” Joel muttered, waving you over to come closer to him. “Get on my back, you shouldn’t walk on that ankle of yours,” he insisted. You obliged, you’d be crazy to turn down his offer. Your ankle was throbbing and you could use a break considering you still had a few hours of your hike to get through.

As Joel readjusted you on his back your body became quite comfortable. You nuzzled your chin in between his shoulder and neck, embracing his warmth and surprisingly nodding off into a light snooze. 

[masterkiszka]

English Coffee

Triggers: 18+ only!, some DA, name calling, etc.

Summary: Fionnuala has had a shit time, so when she gets screamed at by a customer it’s the last straw. She gets a job working with Greta Van Fleet on their tour as a costume design assistant. She has a rule for no relationships but what happens when she catches the eye of Josh? Will she go ahead and follow her heart, or will she refuse and lose everything she loves ?

Chapter 7.

When I got back to the hotel it was around 3 so I ordered some Jack in the Box to the hotel and went to collect it. I had got changed into my pajamas, but who cares? Just me, a couple of burgers and whatever shit is on the tv in the room. I collected my food from the lobby and walked back to the lift to go up to my room.

When I got to the floor and the door opened I saw Josh was stood outside my room. Shit, how did he get past me? I panicked and tried to close the lift doors, rapidly pressing the button. But he had already heard the lift. He was staring at me, slight amusement on his face when he saw me pressing the button. I finally admitted my defeat and walked out, keeping my head high I refused to look at him as I pulled the key out of my pocket. I walked in front of him and opened the door, ‘Flo can we talk?’ He said softly, I signed and turned around. ‘I don’t particularly want to speak to you right now Joshua, okay?’

‘I’m sorry love, can I please come in and explain?’ He said staring at me, his eyes softening. ‘Don’t you dare call me ‘love’. After the way you spoke to me? How you embarrassed me in front of the others? You come here and try and apologise, you can honestly just fuck off.’ I said, my temper getting the best of me. ‘Fionnuala please just let me in, I want to explain.’ He said calmly. I stared at him and took a breath to calm myself, ‘Fine.’ I said walking away.

I walked over to the bed and placed my food down. ‘Can I explain?’ He said leaning against the desk. ‘Go ahead, whatever you say isn’t going to change what you did.’ I said, sitting down and pulling my food out. His face changed to one of amusement, ‘What? I’m hungry, infortunately someone told me I wasn’t welcome to stay and eat.’ I think my dig got to him, his face dropped and he looked down.

‘Flo I’m so sorry.’ He said after a few moments. ‘After we kissed, you just seemed to forget about it. Like it didn’t mean anything to you. You pulled away and moved on. It upset me, I kissed you and you act like nothing happened. You walked away and then disappear with Jess when we get got the bar, talking about whatever is going on that you still refuse to tell me.’ I cut him off, ‘Refuse to tell you? I do not refuse to tell you something that has nothing to do with you. You interrogate me constantly every chance you get even when I keep telling you to leave it alone Josh! Then suddenly you kiss me, no you don’t get to do that. Don’t put this on me.’ I said standing up.

‘I do not interrogate you. I care about you Fionnuala, I care so fucking much. More than I have ever cared for anybody before. I know something is going on. I know something is hurting you and I care, I want to help and you shut me out. I know Jess knows what’s going on. You tell Jess but not me, I thought we were friends. We had something going here but you refuse to open up.’ He said, I cut him off again. ‘I told Jess because she is my boss, she deserved to know that it wouldn’t affect my work. She never dug, she never pushed. I thought we had something going here, but you have ruined it. It’s moving too quick. You can’t walk in here and tell me I refuse to tell you something so personal to me. I said I didn’t want to tell you Josh but you keep pushing. I’m done, I’m done with this. Please leave.’ I said walking over to the door opening it, he stared at me.

I avoided his stare, and found myself looking at his hair. His gorgeous curly hair, with the shaved sides. He was absolutely stunning. I wonder what it would feel like if I run my hands through it. No stop Flo.

He stood there for a minute, just staring at me. His face looked pained, hurt almost. I felt my chest tighten from the hurt on his face, he stalked over to me and out the door. I could feel the anger rising, my face going red. ‘Dick!’ I shouted at him as he walked down the hallway. He turned round his mouth hanging open, shock evident on his face. I glared and slammed the door.

I stalked across my room and crossed my arms, breathing heavy. How dare he. I ran my hands through my hair, pulling at the roots and fighting back tears. I walked over to the bed and got under the cover, pulling a burger out.

I flicked through the channels until I found a re run of Gimore Girls. Perfect, that will calm me down.

How is this gonna be tomorrow ? How are we going to act? I pulled out my phone, I need to talk to Jess.

Flo: Jess, we need to talk.

Jess: Already in the lift.

I carried on eating my burger when she walked in, ‘Has he spoke to you yet?’ She asked sliding in next to me and grabbing a burger. ‘Yep. We screamed at each other, I told him to leave and shouted that he’s a dick down the hallway when he was leaving.’ I said sulking back into the pillows. ‘Oh, well. Um, okay. How is this going to work then? With work? We have more designs to do in a couple of days.’ She said looking at me. I shrugged, ‘That’s what I was gonna ask you. I was going to be polite and civil.’ She nodded while looking at me, ‘Probably the best way, let both of you air it out then see where it goes from there.’ She leaned back next to me.

I nodded, ‘I don’t feel like this is right.’ I sighed, staring down at my nails. ‘What do you mean hun?’ Jess asked, typing a text away to her husband. ‘This job. I don’t think it’s right for me anymore.’ I said sitting up. ‘What?’ Jess asked, looking at me. Shock on her face. ‘I don’t think I can stay. I can’t stay here with what’s happening with Josh and just act civil. It’s too much, I came here for a fresh start and now it’s all going wrong an-‘ She cut me off standing up. ‘No! You are staying, this is right for you. You’re doing so well, you have so much potential and you’re doing amazing. You can’t leave!’ She said chucking her hands up. I stared at her, I could feel myself tearing up. ‘I can’t, I won’t. It’s too much, it’s never gonna work. It’s going to be horrendous staying Jess, it’s never going to be the same. I’m going home.’ I said, tears welling up in my eyes. I stood up and walked over to the bathroom. ‘I’m sorry Jess.’ I said starting to grab my things. ‘No Flo, please. You’re the best assistant I have had, you’re doing amazing here. This is right I promise. Leave the guys to me, I will deal with it. You and Josh will work this out!’ She said following me.

‘No it’s not! It’s all gone wrong. I have fucked it with Josh, I have treat him like complete shit! He hates me, I can’t just carry on like normal knowing what’s happened. I’m going home. Please, just let me go Jess.’ I said waving my hands about. ‘No. I won’t.’ She said walking out. I put my hands on the side and let my head hang between my arms. I took some deep breaths and let the tears fall. I started to pack all my things back up, I booked the next flight to Edinburgh for tomorrow morning at 5. I didn’t tell my mum or Orla that I was coming home, too embarrassed it failed.

I had packed the majority of my things and was in bed trying to get a few hours sleep before I left in the morning. My phone started ringing, I checked who was calling and it was Josh. I cancelled the call and rolled over, I don’t want to talk to him or anyone right now. They will try to make me stay. My phone started ringing again, it was Josh again. I ignored it, it rang again.

‘Hello?’ I snapped, ‘Fionnuala you better talk right now, what the fuck is going on? Jess says you are leaving?’ It was Sam. I signed and put the lamp on, sitting up. ‘Sammy, I am sorry. This whole thing with Josh, I can’t stay here. It’s making it so hard for me to work, and the way he spoke to me? I can’t just fix that.’ I heard him sigh from the other side of the phone, ‘I’m coming over, you better let me in.’ He hung up.

I got out of bed and made my way to the bathroom to brush my hair before he arrived. Within a few minutes I heard knocking at the door, I answered it, Sam was stood there with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. I stood to the side and waved my arm, ‘Come on in.’ He still didn’t say a word as he walked in. ‘So that’s it? You’re just going to pack and leave? No goodbye? What the fuck Flo?’ He said standing the middle of the room. I closed the door and sat on the bed. ‘You have to understand Sammy, me and Josh aren’t getting on. He hates me, I’ve ruined it. Even if we made up, it would be awkward to work together. You saw the way he spoke to me? I can’t work with someone like that, it would be horrible. The best thing is for me to leave.’ I say rubbing my face, I heard Sammy sigh, running a hand through his long hair. No shoes on, as always. ‘No Flo. You guys are working this out and you’re staying.’ He said coming to sit beside me.

‘We have come so far with you and Jess, me and you are just getting to become really good friends and I am not just letting you walk out like nothing has happened.’ He said, I heard him sigh at the end.

He placed his arm on my shoulder, I let my head fall onto him. His phone started ringing, ‘Hey.’ He said standing back up and running a hand through his hair. ‘No, it doesn’t matter. No, don’t. Josh come on. I’m dealing with it. No.’ He hung up and chucked his phone on the side. ‘Was that him?’ I asked staring down at my hands. ‘Yeah, he said he’s coming over. Now you do not have to let him in. But he really wants to talk Flo.’ He said sitting next to me and wrapping an arm around me again. ‘No, Sammy please. I don’t want to see him, can you tell him I will see him in the morning?’ I said leaning against him. He rubbed my arm, the smell of his cologne filling my nostrils, ‘Of course love.’

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he spoke, ‘So you staying?’ He asked hopeful. ‘I have no idea.’ I said softly. He smelled like tobacco and whiskey, classic Sam. ‘Okay Flo.’ We heard knocking on the door, Sam got up and looked at me, I just stared back at him. Silently asking me if it was okay.

He walked over and answered it, I watched his tall frame round the corner to the door. ‘She doesn’t want to talk to you Josh.’ I heard him say, ‘Let me see her please Sam. She’s going to leave, I need to talk to her.’ His voice was desperate, almost panicked. ‘No, Josh I’ve got it. I’m dealing with it.’ ‘Sam let me in. I need to talk to her please.’ ‘Tomorrow, Josh. She wants to talk tomorrow, not tonight. Can you come back tomorrow?’ Sam said, impatience filling his voice. ‘Fine. But i’m coming back in the morning.’

Sam closed the door and came to sit back next to me. ‘You okay?’ He asked getting under the cover like I had done. ‘Yeah, I think so.’ I mumbled, wringing my hands. ‘This is just so much Sammy. I don’t know what the fuck is going on.’ I said, feeling my eyes well up. ‘Oh, Fionnuala. Come here.’ He said pulling me into his chest. He rubbed my back as I sobbed softly into him, I wrapped my arm around him and hugged him tight. Even though we haven’t known each other for that long, I feel like me and Sam are getting really close and I can talk to him.

He left after about a couple of hours with me, he never asked me if I was staying again. I guess he was leaving it up to me, he said his piece and now he’s letting me decide what to do.

I love this job, I love this job so much. It’s amazing, and i’m travelling the world doing everything I have ever dreamed of. I’m healing from my relationship with Ezra, and finding who I am again. I’m doing amazing in my work, the guys and Jess love the stuff I am coming up with. But Josh.

I like Josh, a lot. I can’t hide from the fact anymore. He hates me, I can tell. Even if he apologised and I forgave him, it would be so awkward to work together. We will never work, a relationship will never happen. We live in 2 separate countries, he is a fucking singer in a band and he tours all the time. I am a normal girl from England. This will never work. I can’t have it work, he is my boss it’s crazy. It’s unprofessional.

I have to decide if I am staying.