#assuming bad attentions to keep ourselves safe

[furiousgoldfish]

When you grow up having the worst possible things happening to you around every corner, you can't just keep living your life without expecting the worst.

This isn't even paranoia, it's learning by experience. You can't just start expecting nice and safe and kind things to be put in your way, if they never were, it would not be backed up by any real-life experience you had. It would feel like you're dreaming if you suddenly expect your life to change completely and contain different events from anything you've experienced before. We don't work like that. We learn from experience. We can only predict what's ahead by looking at what's behind us, our collective experience on earth is the only pointer we have to what else we can expect to happen.

If you often told that your expectations are twisted, or that you're just looking for the worst in people, or assuming everyone has bad intentions, that's not something you should be blamed for. After suffering abuse and mistreatment, you have to be on the lookout for these things to prevent the worst and to save your life. You cannot afford to get trapped in abuse again, you have to look at every person and ask yourself, what is the worst they're capable of. What would they do if they had the complete power over me. And you have to work with that, make sure it doesn't get to it, as much as it's in your power to do so.

Abuse victims have to go above and beyond to keep themselves safe, because we get targeted. It's not something we want to do, or something we do to make our own lives difficult. We don't enjoy it. We want to be safe. We want to let our guard down. We want to relax and believe we're surrounded by people who wouldn't harm us. But, if we're wrong, the consequences can be disastrous. And getting abused by someone we trusted was safe for us, that is not something we can survive endless times in life.

[yourfuckingmomdotcom]

Yandere Butler x Autistic Reader

The autistic girlies, guys, or otherwise deserve yandere content tailored to ourselves, and I’m sick of pretending otherwise /hj.

The general idea is that this takes place in a time before an autism diagnosis even existed, like the Victorian Era, but arguably the DSM III added autism in 1980, so you could be in any of those times and still technically be timewise correct. But also you can just imagine him as a modern dude who doesn’t get what’s up.

Oh also, this is inspired a lot by @kiame-sama​ ​. Do I know what a Chrollo is? Nope. Did I love the fic she made? Fuck yea. (Accidentally tagged someone else at first, sorry you didn’t see this!) CW: Non-consentual cuddling, mild drugging, yandere, autistic reader, sensory overload mentions, general violence and murder stuff

🂡 Yandere Butler was brought on by your uncle after your parents unfortunate passing. You had been passed the helm of owning their small but thriving gunsmith operations, as well as the family house and assets. Being unwed and rather young, the butler was sent to manage the things that seriously stressed you out. He, as well as your other associates, assume you are just someone of a delicate constitution, and therefore he’s always fretting over you. Initially he didn’t get it, he did his very emotionally separated duties, but he noticed how much you struggled with specific things, and how you absolutely lit up at the things you love. He found it charming and enthralling, and he could no longer separate his duties and himself. 🂡 Yandere Butler will listen to you ramble for hours over your special interest. Now, how much he understands depends entirely on the content, but he will sit there regardless. As you excitedly go over every detail as best as you can trying to get him to understand what makes you so enthusiastic, he’ll ask leading questions and generally try and find ways to engage deeper in the things you enjoy. It’s the least he could do, since it seems to make you so happy.

🂡 Yandere Butler will overstep professional boundaries as long as you’re unaware of them. He appreciates what he sees as feign innocence and gullibleness that allows him to do things that wouldn’t be possible otherwise. With the low oversight of his position in the house, as well as the authority he holds, he uses this to sneak touches under the guise of fixing something with your garments or your posture. He’ll take what feels like decades to get you dresses in the morning as he slowly glides stockings or woolen socks over your legs, placing the garter so gently atop your thigh. The small ways you allow him to touch you are to him the highlight of his day, especially if you’re really touch adverse.

🂡 Though, Yandere Butler, does understand that your comfort comes first. He finds it somewhat enjoyable to find a middle ground between sensory-safe clothing, as well as clothes deemed acceptable by wider society. He makes sure that your tailor uses the specific fiber and weave to make sure you have an exceptionally predictable texture to fall back on with any garment. He also will find ways to get you the right silhouette while avoiding a lot of structure if that bothers you. If all else fails, he might resort to more homey garments.

🂡 Yandere Butler pays close attention to your nutrition as well, always making sure to get sensory safe foods as well as some you’ve never tried before to widen your horizons just a bit. If the maids and chefs cook something wrong, or in a way you find unpalatable, there will absolutely be hell to pay. Well, moreso just a very loud scolding after you’ve retired to bed for the night, but it still hurts their feelings... He keeps his more unpleasant reprimands for when you’ve fallen asleep because he understands that you feel bad for the workers in your home when he gets like this, so he just does it out of sight. If ever invited to a required formal event, god forbid, he’ll always bring a snack and a handkerchief in case you really didn’t like what was available.

🂡 Yandere Butler also manages your medications, vitamins, and any other substances you take throughout the day. Don’t even consider doing something elicit or uncouth such as smoking or drinking more than a flute of champagne, and if you do something more elicit you’ll probably give him a heart attack. But this unadulterated access to these things lets him do things that are very ungenteel. He requires you take a sleep aid, practically knocks you out, and he takes this time to cuddle you while in your sleep. He knows you’re usually not one for unprompted blunt  affection, so he only does so when you’re sleeping. He finds your resting face adorable, and he prefers to hold you in the honeymoon hug position.

🂡 Yandere Butler, who due to your “delicate constitution” is usually helping you through sensory overloads. If you would grant him the honor, he’ll hold you tenderly in his arms as you ease back into comfort, slowly rocking both of you back and forth. Or, if you’re not ok with touching, he’ll prepare your chambers with dim lights, comforting sounds, and your bed all made and smelling of fragrances you find soothing. Despite not knowing the actual root of this behavior, he’s surprisingly accommodating and has gotten your sensory needs down to a science… which is sort of the problem.

🂡 The Yandere Butler figured out that going outside into town caused you mild to a great distress. So he made your life more simple, no more going out frivolously!... You were confused, and when you asked for more information he basically put a ban on any outside activity that wasn’t business or a disaster within the house. You got really sad about that, as you needed to go out and get things frequently for your hobbies. He ignored your short pleas to go out, initially only responding with something along the lines of, “Then go out to the gardens.”, but he knew he couldn’t keep you inside forever.

🂡 So, Yandere Butler scheduled every “unnecessary” outdoor event to be a sensory nightmare. He hates to see you so distressed, but it’s the only way you’ll learn apparently. This is only made worse by the fact he’s essentially made a sensory heaven inside of your manor, so when you go out it’s a lot worse since you���re so used to being catered to that the sensory discomfort becomes full of sensory pain. And you and him both know you can’t make a scene, lest you be ousted from high society and made a mockery of, so you’re hastily rushed back home to be coddled by him once again. It’s a very negative cycle you’ve got yourself caught up in, and it’s extremely difficult to get out of that cycle. Eventually, he hopes you’ll send a maid out to collect whatever you need instead of trying to leave him again, but until that time comes he’ll do this as much as you need until you get the memo.

🂡 Yandere Butler also manages many of your social and business connections. He’ll whisper in your ear how to deal with boring things like business decisions, stocks, and all the choices he doesn’t want you fretting about. But, he also will make sure to restrict any suitors or and non-business social events. He’ll throw out letters for frivolous parties, as he doesn’t want you tainted by others. He also will throw out suitor letters, which can make some interactions at formal business dinners a bit awkward for you when many suitors come up to you to ask about if anything got through, but the butler will whisk you away and explain that the mail must just be slow. 🂡 But one day, while a maid was cleaning the butler's room in the servants quarters, a maid finds the letters thrown out in his personal rubbish bin. She reads through them all rather confused, wondering why these wouldn’t be given directly to the master of the house. She wasn’t one to interfere with others' business, but something ticked her off. But as she’s about to walk off with an engagement letter, the butler walks in with 3 more in hand. There was a panic and a struggle from both of them, as the butler made sure she’d never be able to tell her tale.

🂡 That night, the Yandere Butler burnt the butchered maid, as well as all of the letters he’d previously thrown out to ash in the manors incinerator. He’d make sure not to make such a mistake again…

🂡 The next day, Yandere Butler makes you a special breakfast and brings it to your room. He coos, explaining that a particular maid stole from the wine cellar, and as she dropped and cracked the bottle, the red wine spilt across the floor. After that he let her go from her position, and he needed time to clean the mess himself, apologizing that your schedule was messed with and that you’re confined to the room for the day to protect your garments. Everytime you walk past the servant quarters door, you see a small red stain and remember the taste of red wine.

[charismabee]

Thinking about the Hunted and the Paranoid They'd be such a force to be reckoned with if one of the others got hurt (assuming separate bodies for my convenience). They'd both immediately be in protective mode because a) injured member of the flock, susceptible to preditors, must protect until healed and b) if its not properly treated it might get worse, it might get infected and then they'll die and a piece of the group will be lost and then they'll all start dying and everything will be terrible forever.

So whoever is injured is dragged to the nest or whatever place is currently safest to be fussed over by the Paranoid while the Hunted watches over them. I can see the Hunted being like 'I'll protect you' and sitting on top of them, covering their body like an overprotective blanket while Paranoid worries over them being crushed or suffocated by the protective cuddle. They're fine Hunted is like 90% fluff and feathers. Not that heavy, perfect blanket. Everyone who isn't injured has to avoid them because Hunted will lash out if you get too close to the injured person he's protecting, abs then they get stuck in there with the injured person because they've been scratched.

I can see the others reacting in a variety if different ways to this.

Hero, Broken, Opportunist, and Smitten would probably enjoy the attention.

Hero a bit more bashful and grateful for the help even if its excessive which it probably is.

Broken being a mix of shocked that anyone would be nice to him and mopey about how he doesn't deserve it and what's the point in helping him. He's just going to get hurt again later anyway.

Opportunist takes the opportunity (ha) to get attention and affection and conformation that everyone likes him because let's be honest with ourselves he may act cocky but that man is desperate.

Smitten is a weird one. He's the type to be all 'these five stab wounds are nothing in the face of my dedication and love', but he probably loves being taken care of. He would prefer if it was the princess though.

Cold and Skeptic would just put up with it.

Cold doesn't care enough to stop them, though he will tell them that he's fine and they're being stupid and his broken arm isn't a problem, pain isn't a bad thing, they don't believe that and Paranoid tries yet again to explain to him why pain is bad.

Skeptic knows it's excessive but he also knows it'll soothe their worries if he lets them confine him to the nest for a week. He can do his philosophy in there it isn't a huge deal for him. He gets to pester them about the inner workings of their minds while he's there too, enrichment.

Cheated, Contrarian, and Stubborn would complain the whole time.

Cheated would so be a whiner about the whole thing. He hates being hurt, and he hates being taken care of even more. It's like an admission that whatever hurt him won. Which it didn't. He'd be even more upset if they didn't fuss over him though because that wouldn't be fair.

Contrarian would hate being stuck in one place for an extended period of time. Just knowing he's not allowed to leave makes him want to really bad, plus he gets bored easy and Hunted keeps puffing up and hissing at everyone until they leave so he can ensure Contrarian is safe so he only has these two worryworts to talk to and they're no fun to wind up because they're too busy fussing to react to his japes and such.

Stubborn would hate being seen as weak. He doesn't need to be protected or patched up, he's stronger than that. They'd still get him to let them do it, but like the Skeptic it's only for their piece of mind. He still complains the whole time.

Hunted would hate being injured and having Paranoid fuss over him. He doesn't like staying still. He'd probably sit through it though because he's objective enough to understand that if injured he does need to heal. After all, how will he evade preditors if injured?

Paranoid I could see appreciating the Hunted watching over him. He'd patch himself up tho, no one is getting near him while he's hurt, Hunted helps keep everyone else away though so it works.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 15: A Dangerous Game

On the way back from the race we stop by the Garrison so Arthur can pick up some liquor for the house.

“Won’t take long, lads. Just a few bottles. Tommy’s been downing them like there’s no tomorrow.”

The other Shelbys head to a hidden side room to discuss private matters. I suppose I’ll just sit at the bar-

“Jesus!”

I whip my head around in time to see Grace burst through the door. She barely notices me and storms off towards the back staircase.

“Grace, what’s wrong? Did-?”

“Thomas Shelby, that’s what’s wrong,” she answers sharply before stomping upstairs. “Ask him.”

Strange. I know Thomas can be emotionally detached and isn’t always the happiest, but he does know how to treat a lady.

“Let’s go, Steenstra!” Arthur calls from the front door.

“Coming!” 

Maybe I can get more answers back at the house.

“How was your first horse race?” Finn asks when we enter the hallway. 

“It was… brief,” I try to pull my thoughts together. “Unfortunately I didn’t even get to see the race take off.”

“That’s too bad. Maybe you can catch another one some other time.”

Finn’s bouncing on his heels and I can tell he’s antsy for another lesson. I guess there’s nothing else to do now. It’s starting to get dark and I’m in no mood to cook.

“How about a nature walk?”

Finn scrunches his nose. “At night?”

“You’d be surprised at what you can find at night. Ever see a firefly?” That keeps his attention. “Go wait outside and I’ll grab my coat.”

Finn picks out a flashlight and heads out the door despite Arthur’s disapproval.

“‘S dangerous at night, Steenstra.”

“Relax, Arthur,” John waves it off. “There’s a Peaky Blinder ‘round every corner. They’ll be safe. I’m off to put the kids to bed.”

Arthur sets the whiskey bottles on the counter and pours himself a glass. “Let’s see how long these can last.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Thomas’ voice snaps my attention to the hall behind me. His wrinkled suit gives reason to believe something happened after the race, but I don’t pry. Arthur just rolls his eyes and walks off to his room, downing the glass of whiskey.

“Evening, Verena. Enjoy the race?”

“What little I could. What happened to Grace? I ran into her at the Garrison and she had the look to kill.”

The Peaky Blinder doesn’t seem fazed. “She didn’t look it to me. She’s the one who asked if I thought she was a whore.”

His words stop me dead in my tracks. “Oh God. Thomas. Did you…?”

“I told her everyone is a whore, we just sell different parts of ourselves. She should’ve known what she was getting into when she agreed to work for me. He got mine, I got his.”

This business goes far beyond my jurisdiction and I’m glad it does. How can he have the audacity to even think such a thing?

I keep a stern frown and fight the urge to slap his arrogant face. “You son of a bitch. You did a whore swap? Against Grace’s wishes? I don’t blame her for being upset!”

He seems confused by my outburst. “Don’t get a bee in your bonnet. I didn’t do anything with his woman. We just talked. Call it getting soft, but I changed my mind and went back to trick Kimber into thinking she has Syphilis before he could do anything serious.”

This back and forth routine is giving me a headache. “Same pattern, every time. You do something so incredibly stupid and then counteract it.” I unhook my coat from the wall and strut to the door before Thomas can utter another moral riddle for me to decipher.

“Why are you so uptight about it? It’s not like I offered you up-”

I pivot before I reach the door and stare him down with a glare mother would be proud of. “Thomas Shelby, do you think I am a whore? That I would belittle myself so low? How dare you. How dare you assume the lowest standards of all women. I thought you were better than that.”

I leave him to stew on that. That Thomas Shelby is going to drive me up the wall, I swear to God. I shall have to offer some comfort to Grace, despite my subtle jealousy for her attraction to Thomas. 

“Pst!”

The hushed voice leads me to the door leading to the bull ring where all the real action takes place. Through a small crack I see Finn’s face peeking out.

“Finn, what are you up to?”

“Shh! I’m hiding!”

Call me bewildered but this little game seems like the perfect opportunity to distract from today’s events. “Oh! Can I join you?”

He cracks the door open wider and we both peer out into the dim hall. Outside we hear Thomas and Polly chatting about another family meeting. After a while everyone files out and the doors are shut. Now all that’s left is one of the bookkeepers.

“What are we waiting for?” I whisper to Finn.

“You’ll see.”

A few more minutes go by. Finn’s not one to invite friends over so what-?

The door opens and a group of men sulk inside. These men aren’t Peaky Blinders. What the devil is going on?

Finn steps out for them to notice and one of them pats his head. “Good boy.”

“Finn, who are these men-?!”

Another man whips out a pistol and corners me against the wall. “Quiet, bitch!”

The gun leaves my pulse racing. “Put that down! What on Earth are you doing here?”

“We’re taking back what’s ours!” The brute sneers and turns to the others. “Search everywhere!”

My fighting instincts want to sprint for the gun hidden in my purse. But that would take too long. I’ll be shot dead in seconds. The only other option I can think of is distraction.

“Finn!” I hiss at the young Shelby, who’s idling by the door. “Finn, go get Thomas. Now!”

He does as I say and slips outside. I don’t know what or who compelled him to let these men in here but I’m not just going to stand by without a fight. 

“I don’t know who you are-” 

Slap!

My cheek starts stinging from where the man hit me. “I said quiet! We know you’re the Shelby’s housekeeper so act like one and shut up!”

Another man roughly grabs my hands and starts to bind them with twine. No, I don’t think so! I knee him in the crotch and duck to roll behind a desk to avoid the fired shots. 

“Get that bitch!”

If I could just get to my gun- AH!

“Verena! Verena? Is she coming around?” A distant voice asks.

Huh? What happened?

My eyelids flutter open and I find myself sprawled out on the dusty floor surrounded by the Shelbys. The whole room’s been ransacked. Tables and chairs are thrown everywhere.

“Jesus Christ. What the bloody Hell happened here?” John asks as he examines the rubble.

“The Lees, all of them.”

“They’ve taken everything,” Polly grumbles.

I catch Thomas’ eye and he seems to drop all other concerns as he approaches and kneels down to me. “Did they hurt you?”

“No,” I answer firmly.

“Did they rape you?” 

“If they’d tried they’d be dead.” There’s something else I notice about the room. “Wait. They left these.”

Thomas looks to where I’m pointing and examines the tool.

“Wire cutters? Why would they do that?” Polly asks. 

Thomas spreads out his arms. “Nobody move. I think they’re playing a game.”

Polly and I share confused looks. “Game? What game?”

“Back in France, whenever we gave up ground from the Germans we’d set traps and leave behind wire cutters as part of the joke.”

Thomas’ eyes search around the room. “Somewhere in here is a hand grenade.”

Polly’s eyes widen and she too looks around. “Holy Jesus.”

“Attached to a wire. Don’t move anything, don’t touch anything,” John cautions us. “Verena, do you remember anything? Maybe where they might have hidden it?”

“No.” Thomas shakes his head. “If it was in here it would’ve blown by now. It was my name on that bullet. The trap’s set for me.” He looks over to where I’m still sitting on the floor. Does he look guilty? “And unfortunately you happened to be here.”

“But I wasn’t alone. Didn’t Finn come find you?”

Something sparks in Thomas’ eyes. “Where’s Finn?”

My breathing stutters. Where is Finn? Didn’t he follow everyone back here? Apparently not because Thomas rushes out the door to find him. 

“Verena, where are you going?” John asks when I stand up to follow. 

“I don’t care if it’s not proper for a lady to be involved with this. Finn’s in trouble and I will not just sit back and wait to see if he’s safe.”

We all follow Thomas out in one big search party. Where would Finn have gone-?

“Finn. stay exactly where you are.”

Thomas’ voice leads us to the garage where the car is parked. Finn is seated in the front holding the steering wheel.

“I was pretending I was you,” he smiles proudly at his older brother.

“Which door did you open to climb in, Finn?”

“I didn’t. I climbed in.” Of course he did.

Thomas approaches the vehicle slowly. “I want you to climb out exactly the same way you came in, understand?”

The young Shelby gets a giddy smile and all but ignores Thomas’ instructions by pushing the driver door open.

“No Finn-!” Thomas sprints over and pulls Finn out just as a ticking sound starts. “Clear!”

He picks up the grenade and hurls it out into the alley, causing a loud explosion to spread hot flames across the earth. John jumps in front to shield me from the blast.

My already-jumbled nerves triple my heart rate. “Oh my God.”

But Finn is safe now.

“That’s why you should never pretend to be me,” Thomas explains to him. “Ok? Ok?”

Thomas must be proud for his younger brother to admire him but at the same time I can tell he doesn’t want him in too deep either.

“Alrighty, time for a drink,” Arthur grunts and the others start walking back. 

“Time to clean up.”

Perfect. More chores. Can’t this family go one week without fighting?

“Are you ok, Verena?” Finn comes up. “‘M sorry. ‘S my fault those blokes got in.”

“It’s alright, Finn. As long as no one was hurt.”

Both him and Thomas frown. “But you-?”

“My own health does not compare.”

Thomas wants to follow up but decides to stay quiet. Thankfully Finn wanders back to the house and leaves us alone.

“I don’t know why he’s even allowed to be involved,” I say sharply. “Yes he’s a Shelby but just look at what could have happened.”

“I know, I know.” Thomas sighs. “‘M… ‘M sorry about earlier. And now you were almost killed-”

“Thomas, relax. Like I said, I’m more concerned about other things rather than my own well-being.”

“Why? Anyone who’s not out for their own self-interest is lying. We all want something.”

I exhale deeply to calm my temper. “Yes, but not all of us are driven by it. My wants are trumped by God’s purpose.”

We stand in silence for a time, listening to the foot traffic. As hard as I try to see the positives this place will always point out the violence tied to it.

“On another note, John’s getting married now,” Thomas says after a while.

“Can’t say I’m surprised. He’s always telling me about how his kids can be a handful. They need a proper mother. So who’s the lucky bride?”

He huffs. “Lizzie Stark. It’s a joke.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because she’s a whore,” Thomas states plainly.

At this point I’m not fazed by his blunt words. “Aside from Polly, Grace, and me, is there anyone in Birmingham who isn’t?”

“It’s not just that. She’s the whore I told you about earlier, the one I’d been seeing.”

So it’s back to therapy mode now. “But you’re passed that now. Is she a decent person?”

“She’s a whore. What do you expect?”

God this man can be stubborn. “Maybe whores have feelings too. Will she make a good mother?”

He kicks a stone down the alley and lights a cigarette. “John thinks so.”

“So trust his judgment. If she’s what he thinks the kids need, then go with it. She could be nice.”

I can’t tell if my words reach Thomas at all. He just finishes his cigarette and starts walking down the opposite end. He makes no gesture for me to follow so I stay put.

“Where are you off to now?” I call after him.

“Planning a switch with the Gypsies to go against Kimbel.”

Gypsies. I don’t know much about their business because Uncle Colon doesn’t either. He made a peace agreement with them to keep a distance. “Can you trust them?”

“On my mother’s side we’re kin. That should help them trust me.”

That can be a perk… Then again family ties are also methods of holding grudges. Oh well. After all that’s happened today I really need some time to relax. I get back to the house and head straight for my room. After a warm bath and donning a fresh nightgown I finally sit down on my bed for some embroidery.

“Um, Vernea? Do you have a moment?” 

I always have a moment. “You doing alright, Finn?”

He stays leaning against the doorway and contemplates what to say. “Tommy said not to be like him. But he’s always been a role model to me.”

I can see how this complicates things. Thomas does have admirable traits but at the same time can be an example of what not to be. Contradictive, as usual. 

“Sometimes in life we look up to people when we only know half their story. Not everyone is someone to admire, Finn. Sometimes you need to search yourself and decide what kind of person you alone want to be. That may not be the answer you’re looking for but it’s my honest answer. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Finn shakes his head, deep in thought. “Alright. If you don't mind, I'd like to retire for the night. Goodnight.”

Thankfully Finn gets the message and shuts the door on his way out. Deep breath. Between my conflicting emotions for Thomas and the Lees attack I certainly need a good night’s rest. 

[pink-pumpkin-princess-bitch]

DNI lists are stupid and dangerous

Ok now I have your attention and your pitchforks pointed at me, let's clear the following:

I'm not an expert in internet history or internet theory, although I do have an extended diploma in Creative Media, which lends itself to audience theory and thus fandom theory, which helps base some of my thoughts here.

I have no issues with people who use DNI lists for whatever reasons they have. My issue is more with the culture surounding it and the reasons these practices exist.

This is a rambling vent on my general complex feelings regarding the topic. This is (at least currently) unresearched.

So, why do I think they're stupid and dangerous?

Well, I'm not quite old enough to remember this, but there was a time when if you where on the internet, you hid your information. You guarded it. Because the internet was dangerous. People online are, for the most part, strangers. People used to, and still do, keep their information close to their chest.

So my main concern is, of course, that safty that many people have tossed to the wind. DNIs don't inherently force people to give out this information, but it does create a culture and expectation to give out this information or be pushed away by the people requesting this information.

Age might be the most obvious piece of information to come to mind, and it is the most common. "Minors DNI" is everywhere on +18 blogs. And that's absolutly fine at first glance. Someone showing mature content may not want kids around their content. But this is the internet, and this is where I think it's stupid as well as dangerous.

Kids lie. Lots of people lie, not just kids. And there's only 2 routes to go regarding this. Either you trust everyone is the age they say they are, effectively invalidating the point of the DNI in the first place, or you confirm it somehow. Well, every way they could confirm it is, from what I'm aware, legally dubious at best and legally illegal at worst. I might be wrong here tho. I'm not in law. But even if it's not illegal, requesting proof of age is extremely bad for multiple reason I think are pretty obvious.

But more and more, kids aren't lying. Instead they're out here putting down how young they are and blowing the whistle for any predator to come walking in and give them reasons to have DNI lists. And that's the exact opposite of what DNI lists seem to want to achive.

Specifically with "Minors DNI", it also perpetuates this culture of having to curate our own audience, be aware ourselves of who is interacting with us, and make sure the children don't hear things they shouldn't. To be blunt, I hate this. I hate this in the same way I hate Unalive and PDF file and Seggs. I'm not on Tiktok. I'm not on Kidsbop. I'm not advertiser friendly. Remember how they added strict laws on how kids are to be advertised to? Yeah me neither.

Expanding now to all DNI lists, and various other limits and boundaries, when did Tumblr stop being the place you Curated your own experience? Yes, I fully understand tag blocking works very little at times and is a chore if it's a genuine major trigger for you. But I'd argue it's even less effective to hold a big sign saying exactly what you don't want to see and crossing your fingers people will be nice enough to read it and listen.

Overall they're simply ineffective and encorage the sharing of details many other people may not want to share. We're all strangers on the internet. We don't need to know eachother's takes on x y or z. If it becomes relevant it will, and if not, who are we to demand that of eachother.

This is why I say I have no issue with people who use them. It's when my place in those boxes then falls into scrutiny just for passing by your blog does it becomes an issue. If I see your DNI, and I still interact with you, it's safe to assume I do not fall into that DNI. If you are still paranoid about this, you genuinely may need help working through whatever may be going on in your life to make the place someone falls into that box for you so important. This is not to say it isn't important, but it is to say paranoia is not the default you should act on. If it's truly that important and you must act on it, block the person rather than interogate them.

Now, as a closing word, I do have to mention I am in a position of privlage from my own standpoints on this. I was, to an extreme fault, very open about myself online growing up. Not only that, but with my father (may he choke on his spit) made me a Facebook account at around 12. So, for the past decade, possibly even longer, all the information someone could want about me has been out on the internet. This lead to obvious things. I've been groomed. I've been in some truly horrible circles. And I've had a very odd perspective on things growing up. For me, this information cannot be put back. Pandora's box has already been opened for me. So regrettably, I'm still fairly open about myself. Not nearly as much as I used to be, but it means I personally don't have issues providing the information requested of DNIs.

The only reason I haven't provided my age on this blog until now has been because I don't want to give the wrong impression. I don't want to encorage people the same way I feel DNI lists do to share information. At the bottom of it all, I don't want people to grow up without the safty and security of private information like I did.

For now, that's most of my thoughts. If you want to senselessly argue about the right to DNI lists existing, please don't bother. I don't care. I'm already fine with that and it just tells me you didn't read this. If you wanna correct me on certain bits, I'd love to know, long as you have some sources or something to help. As I said, this is currently unresearched. I'm sure there's some older internet historians and anthropologists out there who know far more than me. For now, that's it. Thanks for reading this longwinded vent.

[osric-giroux-ffxiv]

Dusk Vigil - Finale

Consciousness returned in waves. 

The first thing he noticed was the warmth of his surroundings and the comfort of the surface he was laying on - it lacked the cold bite of the Vigil, and the unforgiving nature of the stone he remembered his knees hitting before everything went black. 

It took several moments for him to open his eyes - whatever medication had been used to sedate him had been incredibly effective and even as he managed to open his eyes, keeping them open for more than a moment at a time was proving to be a challenge. 

Osric sighed, relaxing a bit as he recognized that he was no longer within the confines of the Dusk Vigil, but was in fact within the Cress Estate - the clinic? He assumed the clinic...

He turned his head, straining to listen, for any sounds…any indications of movement, and was met with silence - it seemed as though he was the room's only occupant for the time being. 

A hand drifted to his side, the relief almost palpable as he found the wound he’d recalled being there during his last conscious moments having been taken care of and he was no longer sporting what remained of his broken weapon. He shifted the arm up and across his eyes, and was just starting to drift back into sleep once again when a knock from nearby drew his attention. 

The arm was lifted and he cracked an eye open - what time it was, hell, what day it was he was completely oblivious to. How long he’d been out was a complete mystery to him.

Peeking his head around the corner, looking for someone cautiously was Colson, a stack of papers in his hand. “Oh, good you’re awake - thought that blonde doctor of ya’lls was gonna run me off.”

“Colson?”

“Aye - ain’t been long enough for you to forget me, boss. We brought you in last night and that doctor lady was real quick about gettin’ that thing yanked up outta you.”

Osric ran a hand over his face, the ache in his side becoming much more pronounced for a moment. “Yes, well…thank you for that particular visual, Colson.”

The other Hyur nodded, oblivious to the dark-haired man’s discomfort, “You’re welcome - anyway, didn’t come to give you the play by play of your medical treatment. Couldn't tell you half of what she did anyhow.” He pulled a small stack of papers from his jacket and set it on the bedside table. “Those are the papers you handed off to me before you decided to charge headlong into a mass of people with nothin’ but an axe while bleedin’ from the side. Figured you might want some readin’ material while you’re recoverin’.”

“The thought is appreciated - but in the future? Perhaps a day or two to actually recover?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, memories of events beginning to filter back in. “What of the individual they were holding?”

“Being kept at the barracks at the moment - comfortably, got no reason to make him uncomfortable - until we can figure out who he is.”

Osric nodded, as best he could against the bedding, “I’ll speak to him once I’m up…or perhaps after a few days after I'm up. And maybe have him brought to the estate if it’s appropriate. In the meantime gather a handful of men, return to the Vigil and clean out whatever goods were there. I want them brought to the barracks for appraisal and I want the Vigil as empty as it was supposed to have been when we arrived.”

“Can do that.”

“Good. Inform me when it’s done.” Once the building was empty and back to its original state - then he could inform Gaspard Thierremont that the job was complete and the Highlands were safe for their traders once again…and the Temple Knights would owe House Cress a rather significant favor.

“I’ll leave you to your rest, boss.”

“...Thank you, Colson - and well done out there.” 

The other man gave a little nod of his head with a grin before shifting back, “Hey - that’s what we’re trained for, yeah? Not too bad for a first run. Might make a name for ourselves after all before it’s all’s said n’ done.” With that he was back around the corner and gone, leaving Osric to his thoughts once again.

He reached for the paper on the top of the stack, exhaling slowly as he scanned the contents of the page - something he hadn’t had the time to do during the chaos of  all the fighting. 

“Just what in the world were you all up to, I wonder…”

If he could hold off that medicated sleep a bit longer...perhaps he could begin to find out.

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3

[shorkbrian]

A Midsommar Night’s Dream

Prelude - I watched midsommar so have this.

Pairing - Izuku X reader X Todoroki males

Warnings - NSFW, dead dove, do not eat. Implied incest, cult-like behaviors. Dubcon.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/7clyJIrLkEbXUDwj1tC9zz?si=EK3gCdOHQ3WQeK-ed9eucg 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Izuku’s been officially dating you for three weeks.

Three weeks.

He’s known you for far longer - the two of you solid friends since you first met. The man doesn’t know when friendship had evolved into something more, but he’s sure glad it did.

You were sweet, and kind, and far too caring for your own good. You didn’t mind waiting up for Izuku when his nights ran late, studying for his masters or taking on extra shifts.

You would rub his shoulders when he got stressed, offer to make him tea or run him a bath or anything else he needed, anything to help out. You loved him, and he loved you.

Tonight was a night that many partners might fear - meeting the family.

But Izuku was hardly worried. He was best friends with your brother Shouto, a level-headed student with good work ethics and a dry sense of humor. The rest of the family couldn’t be that bad.

A simple dinner, you had told him, dress casual and no gifts required. Still, Izuku felt obligated to bring the finest bottle of bourbon his paycheck could afford him (he’d asked Shouto what your father’s favorite was, just to be safe).

The Todoroki household was impressive; massive and imposing in the countryside, surrounded by tall stone walls and looking straight out of a victorian romance novel. Izuku knows what those look like, because he’s seen them on the covers of the romance novels you like to read. He’s always doing his best to pay attention to your likes and dislikes.

“Izuku!” came your excited little voice as the door opened after his loud knock, and the green-haired man couldn’t stop himself from breaking out in a smile.

You were almost bouncing in excitement behind your older brother Shouto as he held the door open, taking the offered bottle of bourbon from Izuku with a nod before leaving you alone together in the foyer.

“Hey, missed you-” Izuku grunted as you attacked him in a hug, and a laugh bubbled out of you both when the solid man had to take a step backwards from  the push of your body.

“Missed you too! I’m so excited for tonight, it’s so good that Dad and the rest of the family are accepting you.” A quick kiss to his cheek distracted Izuku.

You were fairly comfortable with physical touch, resting your head on his shoulder, never afraid to snuggle up to his side on movie nights, or hold his hand out in public (especially now that the two of you were dating). But Izuku had honestly expected more.... sensuality once the two of you started seeing each other as lovers more than just friends.

He had asked to kiss you one night, after you’d made him dinner and rubbed his shoulders and listened to him talk about the latest subject he was studying. Izuku had felt his heart warm, like cold wax cradled over a flame, and his love for you was bursting out of his chest. He wanted to kiss you and hold you close, tell you how much he loved you.

You had just smiled shyly and shook your head, saying you wanted to wait a bit. Which Izuku understood! This was all new, going from friends-to-dating, and he didn’t want to rush you or make you uncomfortable in any way. He was willing to wait.

So the kiss to his cheek surprised him, made him stutter and blush and hug you a bit tighter.

Then you were taking his hand, leading him through the maze of a house. He couldn’t help but notice the old-timey decorations mixed in with the more modern features, but done in an elegant, timeless fashion. A good blend of old mixed with new.

Stepping into the large dining room hand-in-hand with you, Izuku was met with the sight of the entire Todoroki family.

“Everybody-” You started, catching their attention until every set of eyes was on you and the tall man by your side. “This is Izuku!”

Shouto stepped forward, closest to the pair of you, and set his hand on Izuku’s shoulder with a smile. “Glad to have you joining the family.” 

Izuku smiled back, pulling his friend into a hug and giving him a hearty pat on the back.

“This is Fuyumi-” A tap to Izuku’s shoulder had him turning around, stepping away from Shouto to shake your sister’s hand. 

“Hi Izuku, I’ve heard such good things about you.” Her voice was soft and gentle, almost like your own. Izuku could see the family resemblance between the two of you. 

“And this is Natsuo, he’s studying for his masters just like you.” A white-haired man approached him, friendly and open, ready to shake Izuku’s hand but ultimately pulling him into a hug. 

“Sorry, I’m a hugger.” Natsuo laughed, and Izuku shrugged, completely unbothered.

“Here’s Touya.” You introduced a redhead next, a man sitting almost sullenly at the table. He didn’t rise to his feet, didn’t even take Izuku’s offered handshake. 

“This is the guy you’ve been babbling about? He looks bori-”

“Touya.”  The room, already hushed, grew even more silent, almost heavy with the weight of the voice from the man at the head of the table.

The gangly redhead shut his mouth, looking ready to roll his eyes. You pulled Izuku past him towards the imposing man who was looking at the man at your side, appraising him.

“And this is my dad. Dad, this is Izuku.”

“A pleasure to meet you sir.” Izuku shook the mans large hand, and the man nodded solemnly.

“Sit down, we’re ready to eat.”

-----

Dinner wasn’t a quiet affair. Comfortable conversation flowed easily between everyone; questions about Izuku’s degree, about his goals, his dreams, his job. He knew it was just everyone getting to know him, assurance that he was suitable for their daughter. Izuku wanted to be perfect for you, anything and everything you needed.

Enji (Izuku was not about to call your father dad) asked only a few questions, otherwise decidedly quiet at his spot at the table, chewing his food while watching Izuku respond to the rest of his family. 

It was mainly Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shouto keeping the conversation flowing, Izuku easily keeping up with whatever they decided to talk about, asking engaging questions of his own about the family members he’d just met, laughing easily whenever you made a pun or Shouto’s dry humor jumped out.

Everything seemed to be going well. 

Fuyumi asked to be excused, saying she needed to go prepare, and Enji waved her off easily, telling you to go with her. You rose from your chair easily, but not before catching Izuku’s hand and giving it a squeeze, eyes shining as you leaned close to whisper “See you in a bit.”.

“You really love her?” Touya asked as soon as the two women left the room to go prepare dessert, leaving Izuku alone with the male Todoroki’s. Izuku assumed this would be when he gets the shake-down, the usual “Hurt her and we’ll kill you” talk.

“So much. Sometimes I feel like I love her so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.” Izuku confessed.

“She talks about you a lot. I think she feels the same way that you do.” Natsuo supplied from across the table, and Izuku felt his cheeks flush, his heart flutter. It was one thing to know you loved someone - to feel the warmth and peace it brought to your soul. It was another to know that they loved you back; it made him feel whole.

“I've seen how you treat her, I think the two of you are a good match.” Shouto said, and Izuku smiled at his friend. Shouto had been his buddy since high school, truthfully was the reason that Izuku and you had met. You’d come along with Shouto one day when he’d come to hang out with Izuku, and the two of you had become fast friends.

Natsuo was rising from the table, walking back to the little shelf along one wall where various drinks sat (and Izuku’s bourbon gift). Izuku watched the man begin to pour out a red liquid, before his attention was caught by Shouto leaving the table as well, taking his plate and exiting the room.

Then Natsuo was placing a glass of the red liquid down in front of Izuku. “Don’t worry, this is nothing more than homemade punch.” He said as Izuku eyed it.

“It’s tradition.”  Touya growled and Izuku found himself taken aback at the heat in the other man’s voice. Was the redhead angry at him for some reason? 

“Touya, calm down.” The eldest Todoroki said, and Izuku almost wanted to cower himself at the sheer dominance exuding from the powerful man. “Izuku is becoming family. You will be happy for your sister, not jealous.”

Touya huffed, grumbling under his breath before shoving his seat away from the table. “Just don’t fuckin’ hurt her, got it? She’s my baby sister.” 

“I would never-” But Touya is already storming out of the room, uncaring of Izuku’s assurances.

Natsuo sighs. “Don’t mind him, he just.... doesn’t like change.”

“What is this again?” Picking up the red drink, Izuku swirled it around the glass, trying to change the subject and hopefully smooth over the tension. Most of the tension had dissipated when Touya left, but it never hurt to be proactive. 

“It’s a tea we brew and sweeten ourselves. We grow the plants in the backyard, you’ll see them soon.” Natsuo explained.

“It’s tradition?” Izuku parroted Touya’s earlier words, before taking a quick sip. It was delicious tea.

“Yes, we like to welcome those who are approved to join the family.” Natsuo laughed a little. “Fuyumi’s husband thought we were trying to drug him. It’s really just tea.”

Izuku snorted. It tasted like tea, why would someone think the Todoroki’s were trying to drug them? Sure, the family might be a little odd, but they weren’t malicious... right?

Before he knew it, his cup was empty and Natsuo had slipped out of the room, leaving Izuku alone with the head of the household, Enji.

Where were you? And why had everyone else left the room?

“I’m very particular about who I allow in my house, boy.” Enji started, and Izuku suddenly felt.... uneasy.

“Not everyone thinks the same way as the Todoroki’s. But you seem to be a bright young man. Educated. You aren’t going to be any trouble, are you?”

The last question wasn’t posed as such. It was a statement. 

Still, Izuku shook his head. “No sir, I have no intentions of causing trouble.” Why did this casual dinner feel so serious? there was so much emphasis on being accepted into the family, on being welcomed. Izuku recognized how big of a deal that was but still... it’s not like you were about to marry him. He was planning on that a few years down the road.

“Come with me.” Enji instructed, wiping his mouth with his napkin before his impressive bulk hefted itself out of his chair. Izuku felt tiny next to the patriarch, following the man through the dark, empty house.

He wanted to ask where Enji was taking him. Where you had disappeared to, where the rest of the family had gone. But that would be rude, so Izuku kept his mouth shut.

Outside it was dark, moon shining dimly through the sky, the residual warmth of the summer day still held in the air. Izuku followed Enji through the back door, down along a path, into the plentiful, green backyard.

To a grove of trees, torches flickering from within the grove, small bushes and beautiful flowering plants dotted among the trees. A garden, Izuku realized. Those must be the plants and bushes that produce the tea Natsuo had given him.

Then there you were, in a little clearing among the trees.

Sitting on a dark blanket, knees drawn to your chest and ankles crossed in front of you as you hid your body.

Izuku started - you were naked.

Touya was kneeling beside you, a hand on your shoulder as he talked to you gently, barely sparing Izuku and his father a glance as they strode into the torch-lit clearing, Touya’s attention truly focused on you.

Shouto and Natsuo stood in the light, watching you, watching Izuku.

“What is this?” Izuku sputtered, and upon hearing his voice you looked away from Touya, a smile lighting up your face as you saw your Izuku.

“This is tradition boy.” Enji laid a heavy hand on Izuku’s shoulder. “Now strip down, my little girl’s been waiting.”

Izuku’s head swirled.

Touya stood up, shooting the green-haired man a lazy glare before moving to stand by his brothers, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Izuku...” Your sweet little voice called for him, and green eyes snapped to your form on the ground, watched as, with a nod from Enji, you slowly unfurled your body to expose yourself to your lover.

A stab of arousal hit Izuku in his gut, watching your soft-looking skin be revealed. 

Pert breasts, a squishy tummy, glistening folds ready and twitching between your legs. 

You were drenched.

There was so much shiny slick, all over your thighs and dripped onto the blanket, Izuku couldn’t catch his breath, couldn’t think straight. It was impossible for you to be that wet on your own, you must have used lube or something to prepa-

It hit him; You and Fuyumi hadn’t gone to prepare dessert.

“You just gonna stand there all night like an idiot? Take your clothes off and fuck her you dwee-”

“Touya.” Enji growled, silencing his son immediately. Then the man turned to  Izuku, easily pushing him forwards towards you. “You’ve been accepted into the family; that’s an invitation you don’t want to refuse.”

With a sigh, you easily laid down onto your back, legs still spread for Izuku to look at you, hands coming up to rest shyly over your breasts.

“Don’t do that, let him see.” Shouto murmured, and immediately your hands dropped in obedience. Shouto hummed in approval, before bi-colored eyes swept up to look at Izuku, urging his friend forward with a tilt of his head down to your form.

With trembling hands, Izuku fumbled with his pants, unzipping them with a bit of difficulty, undoing his belt, working on the buttons of his nice shirt the he had worn to make a good impression when he met your family for the first time.

It took him a moment to undress, a red blush creeping up over his cheeks and down to his chest as he bared his body to the Todoroki’s.

He didn’t think he was small, but he wasn’t big either; average. Izuku was confident in his size, didn’t really know or are how he stacked up against other guys, and the girls he’d been with before hadn’t complained.

Still, he felt embarrassed to be naked in front of other people, to be on display. But there wasn’t another option, was there? (Izuku didn’t know if that was such a bad thing)

Two short strides before dropping to his knees in front of you on the blanket, his throat dry and his palms sweaty. 

“Are you-” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Are you okay with this?” 

Your head nodded yes, a pleased, yet shy grin on your face. “Of course. I want you.”

The softness of your voice, of your body, Izuku felt dizzy as he shuffled forward, close enough to touch. Still hesitant, worried about the male Todoroki members watching from the sidelines, brain racing to work through the strangeness of the situation, the utter oddity of this... ritual that was currently taking place.

But then you were sitting up, hands circling around his neck, pressing your lips to his with crushing finality.

He was a part of the family now.

It felt good to kiss you, soft lips pressed together, little huffs of breath from your nose as you kept going. Izuku took the freedom of circling his hands around your waist, almost gasping at the plushness of your flesh, melting against you with a groan as your lips kept pressing to his.

“I’m all ready, just-just put it in.” Your breathless little confession tumbled out as soon as you pulled away from your first real kiss with Izuku, a blush high on your cheeks.

But it was Izuku’s turn to blush, sitting between your legs like a fumbling virgin. “I’m not hard yet, but I can, uhm, finger you. Or we can kiss for a little bit mo-”

“You aren’t even hard? Touya’s sneering voice cut through Izuku’s babbling. “Look at my sister. She’s fucking soaking the ground. That’s not hot to you?”

Izuku stuttered, eyes flickering down to where your legs were opened, pretty little cunt twitching. It’s like you were begging to be touched, and Izuku was a sucker for begging.

“No, that’s so hot, oh my god.” He breathed, fingers instinctively reaching to swipe through your wetness, relishing the way you gasped and shuddered as his hand made contact with your body.

“She’s so soft too, got tits like little pillows. You should lick ‘em, she likes that.” Touya continues, and Izuku wants to point out that the reason he’s not completely hard yet isn’t because he’s not insanely turned on by the beautiful creature in front of him, but because he’s feeling weirded out by all her brothers and her dad watching intently from the sidelines.

Yet he does what Touya suggests, leaning forward to put his mouth on your chest, tongue darting out to drag against your skin. 

The eldest Todoroki was right about you being soft.

Izuku can’t stop his other hand from rubbing at your cunt more firmly, feeling your little hips twitch towards him, pressing your chest more firmly into his mouth.

“She’s so pretty.” Natsuo comments, but Izuku is hardly listening when he’s flicking at your clit, nursing at your tits. “She’s gonna feel real good around you Izuku, like a new fleshlight.”

“You better breed her good, boy.” Enji booms, and suddenly you’re scrabbling at Izuku’s arms, pulling his hair, whining “Please, Izuku please.”.

“Okay, shit, let me-”

“He must be really worked up, Izuku hardly ever curses.” Shouto announces, and fuck, he’s right -  but how could he not be worked up?

Izuku is hard, blood rushing so quickly to his cock that he feels lightheaded, taking himself in hand and giving his length a few dry pumps. He’s envisioning how sopping wet you’ll feel against him, staring, drooling over your cunt.

And then he’s lining himself up, kissing you hard, and pushing inside.

“Big, ‘s too big!” You panic, tears popping to your eyes but Izuku is quick to wipe them away, cooing at you and stilling his hips.

“Oh, don’t cry! Shh, I’ll go slow, ‘m sorry, I thought you were ready-”

“Natsu-” You cried, hand scrabbling into the ground above your head, reaching, searching for your brother.

“Hey, hey, I’m here.” The man was immediately on his knees by your face, clasping your hand fervently, leaning down to put a sweet kiss on your nose. “Breathe honey, in and out. It’s okay.”

“Noo I-I.... ‘M scared, he’s-he’s-ah!” A stuttered cry broke from your chest as Izuku shifted slightly, inadvertently pushing deeper.

“No, it's gonna be okay. It's just like when we do it, yeah? He's gonna be nice.” And Natsuo is looking at Izuku, fixing him with such a pointed gaze and Izuku gets the message. He’s going to be nice.

It’s not like he wasn’t planning on it - the green haired man loves you.

But then the breath is sucked out of his chest as he comprehends what Natsuo had just comforted you with, that-that.

That you’ve fucked your brother.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Izuku chants, unable to stop his hips from inching back and forth, humnping into you in infinitesimal movements as arousal punches through his gut. “Sorry, I can’t stop-’h my god that’s-”

He can hear Touya cackle. “Damn, something really got him going.”

You were squeezing your eyes shut, clenching Natsuo’s hand so tight that the skin was whitening. Your brother didn’t seem to mind, more occupied with stroking your hair, eyes fixated on the soft jiggle of your breasts as Izuku humped you like a senseless virgin.

His breathing turned into wheezing, hitching when a presence was felt at his back.

“You can do better than that.” Enji’s hands were pressing against Izuku’s naked rear, making the green haired man flinch forward and away from the touch. But Enji merely pushed, propelling Izuku’s thrusts so that he would really fuck the warm, willing body beneath him.

“Izuk-Izu-Izuku-” You moaned, rocking your body to further spear yourself onto his cock, apparently finding the fast glide pleasurable as opposed to your hesitance earlier.

He leaned down to kiss you, both of you moaning into the kiss, hands wandering as you pushed to meet each other, Izuku’s stomach clenching tighter and tighter as he neared his release.

“She’s never had someone fuck her raw before...” Shouto mused, eyes glued to the scene in front of him, watching his best friend fuck his sister with the help of his family. “I wonder if it feels different.”

But his words were lost in the quick slap of skin meeting skin, Izuku’s grunts, your sweet little noises as you writhed and clutched at Natsuo’s hand, your other hand holding onto Izuku.

And then Izuku was gone, balls clenching and cock twitching inside you, pulsing as he shot his seed.

Your eyes fluttered shut, pulling your hand away from Natsuo to place it against your tummy, pressing right over where Izuku was still grinding against you. “Feels... feels so warm.”

Izuku was panting, sweat sticking his curls to his forehead, desire slowly swirling out of his body as he came. 

What the fuck had he just done?

Enji clapped him once on the back, before rising to his feet. “Welcome to the family, son.”

[r3ylf]

I won't return to you until. I have all of these traits. I'm sorry for how long it might take. It could be soon it could be later. But I love you. If the feeling is mutual you'll feel what I'm saying. I'm being stronger than any excuse I could give you. I found out I was not even remotely correct about you. I hope you're not gone. But if you are. Thats my fault. I'm so sorry I didnt trust you or listen. I was never even a person. Addiction and trauma will make you not even notice yourself anymore being so cruel to people. If I say nothing I know you'll just create a reason so here's for you the truth. What is real. I hurt you worse than you ever hurt me I didn't even try and see you as you were. I assumed the worst. I was a bad person to you and I don't want to think that I went my whole life not realizing it. I learned a valuable lesson. Stop talking so much and look and listen. Noone who doesnt mean what they say will stick around you if you figure them out cause they aren't getting anything out of being there and not somewhere where they can succeed in being dishonest. You were an angel and I'm ashamed I hurt you I feel like I lost everything but that's not true you were my everything but you shouldn't have been life is suppose to be big. Not locked on to one person so hard we lose focus on our responsibility to ourselves. I know I'm not who you think i was right now. But sometimes I slip back in a little. Like right now. I do feel awful I just don't want to get passionate about it because I'm afraid to be without you but it's Been almost a week and I know you're feeling angrier everyday. At me for this separation. I can't blame you for me not being able to stop losing my mind but let me tell you I fucking miss you and am salty and paranoid as hell that your being held by someone else becau3 fucmekfjjrrje i hate myself.I am wrong you were right please please be strong and safe and listen to me. Never again will I question if you're my enemy. This is for comfort if it makes you feel anything else it is not real give it some time and then read it again. Don't ask for others opinions make your own choice and don't look for proof I'm right or wrong feel how it feels if it's true and then feel how it feels if it's not. I can't hurt you from a place like rehab. I can't flip and change my mind. This is final. I made the choice finally . I'm gonna focus on me now you are not inept it's me I'm 10 years behind you babe

Give me chance prove what I'm saying. Just be safe and love yourself like you have a love so warm it's gonna keep you you.

Always welcome to not need anything. To be permitted. You are enough I'm sorry I fucked up I hope you okay. I'm goin to replace the property I damaged. Even if you hate me no matter what. Thats what I get for putting myself in a position to hurt the only person I could want even though they were a perfect imperfection designed not completed, I'm the hypocrite. And everyone fucks up and you did but it was me who is gonna just validate what everyone says doesn't matter. Only misunderstanding someone is because you are looking at them wrong or not looking at at all. And either on of those things means I'm not gonna give it attention as something i need around me. Drugs and mental illness make me what to cry but that's my Ted talk thanks for finishing this long bullshit excuse for why simply you were right I was a fucking piece of shit. And you didn't deserve any of it. I miss you. You're never alone cause Trevor I never stop thinking about you for long so I'm there in spirit. My intentions are positively conclusive. I am not giving up on you. Just gonna level up with training and try again. If you wanted. One day. Idc what you do with you. I won't demand you to do anything but be wherever you are in life and I won't rush you to even be something else again. You are not gonna see my conform to the belief that we can't do this and make it work idc idc. I'm not that weak. I don't even believe in Helen keller they made that bitch up. She never knew sign language or existed what the fuck. but neither does the concept of me abandoning you. You weren't hurting me really my reaction was tho. If you think I'm dope as hell when I'm down. Baby. Watch me get a fucking reality check don't need rehab advice need sobriety tho. Need them meds can't make myself do it alone need to be away to b3 a better thing you would give a chance in your life shit if you sent me to jail I can't even cry you were such a fucking real person man I fucked up please just know what you know and carry on I'm doing me you do you. You're too strong for me to tell you this but I didn't believe you were bad dude I always think different thats why nobody likes me and i like you. Dont care if people want me be anything but not shitty. I sometimes that's not cool to never be teachable I'm only 25 what I know is nothing and fuck you know more than I'll ever know but that's cause youre smarter though.

You're my only reason for being a better human being. Oh and.

LAWNMOWA

ARE YOU GONNA TELL ME THAT IM WRONG????

SHE CAME DOWN IN A BUBBLE DOUG! A BUBBLE!

BBQ sauce is so good and

Is that grape sprite?

You mean this?

Yeah yeah.

I miss you man I finally want to feel good and. Have fun and not decay. Rehab sucks I'm sorry I'm not already a pro at riding this life bike but his name is biycle he cooh. If you didn't laugh at that you're being stubborn it's your own joke don't be lying that biycle shit had ME crying. I miss your jokes. See you later Trevor. You're gonna be excited when I pop out of rehab and pull up yeah I'm not gonna tell you either. People that love you just prove it. Even if I gotta take you from a hoe I'll do it. Im jp if you're happy I'll leave you alone. Cause you deserve that and I should've known. I always have too much to say. Shit I wouldn't read messages either annoying as fuck. But maybe when its sinking in those people fucked up both our heads and used us as weapons. You'll want to see what I said and this is my reality honestly you cab roll the dice of you want to but I. Willing to be better and stop making it out like I was the only one who even existed I. The world relationship or country who had something bad happen to them . There's a whole lot out there I love you I wish I could stop typing but I miss you. Dont worry have faith I'll be back my original not this way. I'll have shorter answers and patience and love If you aren't wanting it thats OK it wasn't for you but it was yours to try and see what I can prove about being a bullshit person to you. I just want it to goddamn stop. But im addicted to the bop. Ha. Back to the original meaning. I love you but I don't treat you well. So I'm gonna go remix my brain and autotune it or something to be better and work more efficiently at being pure and not so fucking BLUE . Idk how to stop I'm just gonna end this I think you get it. Im gonna shut up now. See you later lover sorry I made you hate me you and the world. If you don't find a way to make the rehab TV ring or something I'll assume I deserve this loss and cope. And let go of someone I'll miss. Fuck. I suck. And like words.

The Sign Of Good Character Is In Ten Qualities

Al-Haafiz `Abdur-Ra-oof Al-Munaawee [رحمه الله] [D. 1031 H] said: Yoosuf Ibn Asbaat said:

❝The sign of good character is in ten qualities:

1. Rarely arguing,

2. Treating others fairly,

3. Abandoning seeking out people’s faults,

4. Seeking to rectify and improve any evil qualities which appear,

5. Seeking excuses for people,

6. Bearing harm,

7. Blaming oneself,

8. Occupying oneself with awareness of one’s own faults and not with the faults of others,

9. Having a cheerful face,

10. And being mild in speech.❞

[Faydul-Qadeer, (3/464) | Translated By Abū Talhah Dāwood Ibn Ronald Burbank]

[redrobin-detective]

while you were sleeping

“Now here’s what’s going to happen,” Grandpa Max said in a gravelly, rough voice he only used when he was barely holding onto his anger. Gwen held her crossed arms tightly, trying to seem stern when she really felt scared. “You are going to relinquish your control over my Grandson and you are going to do it now or else-”

“Or else what, Grandpa?” Ben asked with a blank expression. Or at least, the thing wearing Ben’s face and body did. It hadn’t quite mastered fine motor control yet so seeing her cousin’s usually animated face so slack, his posture so awkward like a puppet on a string... it was unnerving. 

“Or I’m going to remove you from his person and get him back myself,” Grandpa growled. He slammed his hands on the railings of the stretcher Ben was sitting on and leaned close to his face. “And don’t call me Grandpa, you are not my boy, you are not even real. You are a hunk of metal and machinery and I don’t care if you are the most powerful device in the universe, Omnitrix, I will tear you apart piece by piece to rescue my family.”

The Omnitrix tilted Ben’s head awkwardly, it’s too bright green eyes staring at Grandpa Max with a fury Gwen rarely saw from her cousin. 

“You will never separate us. We will not allow it,” the Omnitrix hissed, clawing Ben’s right hand protectively over the alien watch. It’s usual green interface was blank having spread itself through Ben’s entire body. Three days they had just assumed Ben was tired from the battle in the Atraxi Nebula. Three days that Ben had been acting weird and not right while the Omnitrix possessed him. Three days of brushing it off until Rook had noticed the changes to the watch and alerted them that something was very, very wrong. “And you’re one to talk about saving us,” the Omnitrix spat out. “All you do is make demands of us, send us far and wide to fix other people’s problems and never helping our own.”

“Cut it out with this we and us. Ben is a person and you’re just a machine,” Grandpa sighed with frustration, rubbing at his eyes. 

“There is no Ben or Omnitrix, there is only us,” the Omnitrix stated as if it were obvious. “We have long since merged. Ben and I are one in the same which is how we know how damaged we are.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Grandpa sneered.

“It means,” the Omnitrix continued with lidded, angry eyes, “that Ben doesn’t want to come out. His mental state collapsed in battle leaving our physical form in danger. We had to take control to get us to safety. Ben is safe and cared for right where he is and he will return when he is ready and not a moment before.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Grandpa Max screamed, finally losing his cool. Gwen flinched and she noticed the Omnitrix slid its eyes over towards her before flickering back to Grandpa. “According to Azmuth, you’re not supposed to be sentient, you’re not supposed to possess your host! Why am I supposed to believe you that you’re not holding Ben hostage?”

“Because we have been there for every injury, every bout of self-doubt and loneliness, every tear shed in grief and misery,” the Omnitrix whispered with venom dripping from every word. It’s eyes glowed so brightly it cast dark, ominous shadows on Ben’s face. “While you and everyone else looked the other way and pretended it was fine to thrust the entire universe on a child’s shoulders. The only one we have been able to rely on for years is ourselves and it wasn’t enough.” 

“I-,” Grandpa Max started to defend before deflating a bit. He looked over at her, unsure of what to say. Gwen gave him a curt shoulder shrug; she hadn’t exactly been overly attentive to Ben’s mental health the last few years herself. With the way he acted, it was easy to assume he was handling things alright but the signs were there now that she was looking. It shouldn’t have gotten this bad that the Omnitrix had to possess him and point Ben’s struggles out. “It’s not like that, Ben would’ve told us if it was too much.”

“Which is why his psyche is in fractured pieces,” the Omnitrix said with an eye roll. It was just how Ben did it, for all that the actions were jilted and ungainly, it had Ben’s mannerisms down exactly. “We left the Master in your care for years and this is how we ended up.”

The Omnitrix leaned forward, it’s elbows balanced on Ben’s knees and it’s fingers laced together under Ben’s chin. It stared at them judgement in it’s stolen eyes. “So here is what is going to happen, Grandpa and Cousin. We are going to take care of Benjamin, as we have done from the moment of our joining. We will keep our body healthy and safe from harm, we will patrol and go on missions to keep our home and the universe intact. We will also work to undo the damage you have done to Ben and when he is healed and ready to resume control, then we will retreat and let Ben make the decisions.”

“You can’t do that,” Grandpa said with a dry rasp. 

“We can,” the Omnitrix countered steadily. “You will have to kill us to separate us and we will kill you before we let any harm come to Ben. Do you understand?”

“You say we’ve hurt Ben,” Gwen said softly, not liking the Omnitrix’s unfocused, uncoordinated gaze on her. “We probably have just like he has done the same to us. We’re human, just because you love someone doesn’t mean we don’t make mistakes.” It frowned in thought. “But you don’t heal by locking yourself up and not addressing the problem. If Ben, if he’s hurting, then he needs to be out here where we can fix it. I know you love him and want to protect him but this isn’t the answer.”

For the first time since the conversation began, the harsh look softened on Ben’s face. It almost looked human this way. If the Omnitrix and Ben really were one being by this point, then it wouldn’t give into anger for long. It just wasn’t in their nature. 

“You are right in a way, Gwen,” the Omnitrix said with a slight nod, sitting up from it’s aggressive slouch. “It’s not a surprise, you’re right most of the time,” the Omnitrix said with a little quirk of the lips that was very Ben. The mirthful expression tightened into one of frustration. “But we still need time. Ben is fragile right now, he needs to rest, to recover. When he, when we, are ready then we will listen.”

“Okay,” Gwen nodded, reaching out and grabbing Grandpa’s hand tightly before he could fight anymore. “Okay, well we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Right, thanks,” the Omnitrix looked away and picked at Ben’s ripped up jeans. Did the device share Ben’s ADHD? Was it just copying Ben’s nervous habits to trick them or were the two of them so blended together it wasn’t one or the other but simply different parts of a single whole? She couldn’t help but wonder if Ben would’ve been this same person if the Omnitrix had never bonded with him. 

“Well, it’s late and we’re tired. We’re gonna play some video games then meet Rook for patrol tomorrow unless you plan to stop us from doing our job.” The Omnitrix said, it’s voice heavy with accusation as it glared at Grandpa. 

“You may go,” Grandpa said forcefully, unhappy with the situation but unable to stop it. “But this discussion isn’t over.”

“Of course not, I’m still waiting for your apology about your treatment of us,” the Omnitrix sniffed with a flippant wave as it hopped off the stretcher and walked out of the room where it would continue to act as Ben and live his life for who knows how long. But who was to say that he wasn’t Ben, some aspect of him that they never saw. Either way, dealing with it, dealing with them, just got a lot more complicated. 

[midgardianweasley]

Keep you safe

Keep you safe

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Avenger!reader

Summary: When the civil war breaks out among the team, what happens when you find yourself and your girlfriend on opposite sides of the fight?

Warnings: Extremely minor cursing, angst, injury, ends in fluff

Word Count: 1.8k words

Message/ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist <3

Requests are open!

“Vision, you can’t keep her prisoner here” I announced to what seemed like a brick wall. The S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting was only this morning and already it felt like the team was beginning to drift. Tony and Steve were fighting, not being able to agree on where they stand regarding the Sokovia Accords and whether we should sign our rights away. Wanda, not being a US citizen and having been a big part of the incident in Sokovia, has been put under Vision’s watch for protection. But from what i’ve seen, I think Wanda can protect herself just fine.

“It’s not imprisonment, Y/N, this is for her safety.”

“Safety? She’s fully capable of walking to the shops on her own.”

“I think some members of the team would disagree, Nata-”

“Don’t, Vision. Please.” I sighed, rubbing my forehead, the stress going straight to my temples upon remembering the events from this morning with my girlfriend.

Nat and I had just walked out of the meeting room, thoughts flooding both of our heads. We were exhausted, the emergency meeting not giving us enough time to wake up with a coffee before having to be fully functional. My head was resting on her shoulder, her head on top of mine as we stood in an abandoned corridor, revelling in the peace and quiet. It was a few minutes before one of us decided to speak up.

“You okay, голубка?” She whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head before returning to her previous position.

“Mhmm, I think so. My head is officially fried though and it’s not even 9am yet.”

“We’ll get some coffee in us soon.”

“I think we’ve earned it” I mumbled, earning a slight chuckle from the both of us, returning back to the silence for only a couple of minutes before a thought crossed my mind.

“I feel bad for Wanda. She must feel terrible.”

“I know. Hopefully this whole Accords business can be of help.”

“Well, that would be nice, but we’re obviously not signing that.” An airy laugh left my lips, amused at the idea of signing away any freedom we could have for ourselves. I felt Nat’s body go rigid beside me, suddenly feeling tense. I pulled away slightly and looked up to see a frown taking over her features.

“You’re not going to sign?” She spoke, suddenly sounding more awake, albeit still having a gentle tone, but I could feel the disbelief behind her words.

“I wasn’t planning on it, no. Are you?”

“I feel like it would be a good idea. Maybe we need a little more guidance to go about our missions.”

“This isn't guidance, Nat. This is essentially locking us away just without the bars.”

“It’s protection.”

“It’s losing our freedom!” I bluntly responded, almost shocked that we weren’t on the same page about this. We both stood across from each other now, arms crossed and staring into each other's eyes, all tiredness beforehand gone and replaced with fire.

“I need some air” She groaned, walking away towards the exit, signalling the end of that conversation.

“Nat-”

“I’ll see you at home, okay?” Not giving me a chance to respond, having walked out the door before I could utter a word. I guess coffee is the least of my problems now.

Lost in my daydream, I hadn’t even noticed that Clint had walked in and was currently fighting Vision. Wait, Clint?

“Clint? I thought you retired?”

“Ah nice to have you back.” He choked, currently caught in a headlock with Vision. I stood next to Wanda, the two of us sharing a look of confusion. “We need to go, Cap needs us.”

“You can’t overpower me, Clint.” Vision spoke, still holding his grip.

“I know i can’t, but she can”

I looked beside me once again and saw Wanda beginning to use her powers, and before I knew it, Vision had fallen to the ground..and further until we could no longer see him.

“We need to go” The archer rushed, taking Wanda by the hand and leading her outside. I was yet to be clued in on what exactly was going on, but I knew one thing, this couldn’t be good.

---

It was absolute chaos everywhere. Steve, much like Tony, had recruited a small team of his own, some familiar faces, some new, the ant guy was pretty cool. However, there hadn’t been much time to admire the different skill sets and powers that had been brought to the table before both sides had run towards each other. Especially considering seeing the recognisable assassin on the other side had brought on a wave of sickness, fighting her was the last thing I wanted to do.

While Bucky had taken to fighting who I assumed to be Blank Panther and Sam was in the air, I’d stuck to helping Steve, not wanting to get involved in the fight Clint was having with Natasha. This teenager had started shooting webs at Captain, and while I know he was on the opposite side, I had to admit, he was pretty good at fighting.

“He also said to go for your legs” He chuckled, again shooting webs at the supersoldier and holding him back from retrieving his shield.

“Hey Spidey” I called, gaining his attention.

“Hi”

“Might wanna drop the Captain, yeah?”

“I can’t. I gotta impress Mr Stark”

“Look, this isn’t your fight, you don’t know what’s going on” I tried to reason, falling onto deaf ears, or just stubborn, as he then shot his webs at me and tried to pull. His eyes shrunk in confusion as he couldn’t flip me, my power of immobility coming in handy.

“Why-” He groaned, still trying to flip me. I lifted my hands, grabbed the webs and flung him into one of the loading crates that were scattered around, my super strength making the impact a lot harsher, but not enough to cause major injury.

“Thanks Y/N” Steve spoke, a quick nod of approval was shared before I caught a glance of another fight going on. Wanda’s holding a crate, trying to take someone flying above it out, completely oblivious to Vision starting to come towards her. Looking down slightly, I saw who was directly underneath.

“Shit” I mumbled, running as fast as I could towards them, avoiding gunfire and punches along the way.

“Language!”

“Sorry! Jeez” I directed towards the man now running in a different direction.

Vision was much closer to them than I was, no matter how quickly my feet took me. It was no use trying to warn Wanda, I wouldn’t get there in time. I had to go with plan B.

“Nat! Move!”

She quickly turned and caught sight of me, giving me a confused glare that didn’t last long before I pushed her away from where she was standing, out of harm's way.

“What the hell Y/-” She hadn’t managed to finish her sentence before her eyes widened in horror at the large crate suddenly falling from Wanda’s hold and onto me. My arms lifted quickly to hold it, slightly wobbling due to not being in the centre of it.

“Is there anything behind me?”

“Wha-”

“Is there anything behind me?!” I spoke more urgently, not knowing how much longer I could hold it.

“No, no you’re clear.” Natasha responded, I thanked her silently with a nod.

‘Okay. you’ve got this. One. Two-’ I thought to myself.

With the remaining strength I could have gathered, I bent down slightly and pushed, sending the metal hurling upwards while I ran forward. Overestimating how high i’d thrown it, the bitter reality hit me, quite literally as it fell onto my leg, sending me face first towards the ground.

“Wanda!” Was all I could hear before I felt my head placed in someone’s lap and the world went black.

---

My head pounding like a hammer had been a lovely wake up call, followed by a throbbing pain in my leg which I'd looked down to see was lying along a row of pillows. My eyes darted around the room and I recognised the photo on the bedside table beside me. It was a photo of Natasha and I standing in the rain laughing at a joke we can’t remember anymore, but it must’ve been funny according to the huge smiles on our faces. The love in our eyes was enough to make galaxies jealous.

A knock on the door had interrupted my train of thought, opening before I had a chance to respond, Natasha walked in, a guilty look taking over her face.

“Hi”

“Hey. You okay?” I questioned, earning a smile and a scoff to come out of The Black Widow’s mouth.

“Am I okay? Really?”

“I-”

“You ask me if i’m okay when you’re lying there with a broken leg and just woken up from being knocked out, because you decided to throw yourself into danger.”

“You had a tonnes worth of metal about to fall on you. Forgive me if i didn’t want a squished girlfriend.” I defended myself, not entirely certain on how this is turning into being my fault.

“You could have died”

“But I didn’t”

“But you could’ve, Y/N!”

“Love-”

“I can’t lose you” Her voice broke. Only then had I managed to really take a look at her. Her eyes had clouded over, her hair was all over the place, her nose running slightly. A pang of guilt hit me, not knowing that my action had affected her so much.

“Can you come here? Please?” She hesitated, but soon made her way round to the other side of the bed and sat herself down, making herself comfortable in my arms that I held open for her, hands immediately going to run through her hair. Small sniffles could be heard in the otherwise silent room, each one having a kiss pressed against her head in response.

After a couple of minutes, the silence was broken again.

“I’m sorry, moya lyubov, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

She turned her head up slightly to look at me, a small smile playing on her lips

“I know. i just panicked. I want you to be safe too.”

“I’m okay. I’m here. I promise.” I kissed her head again. “How does a bath and a movie sound?” A small sigh left her lips at the suggestion.

“You’ll join?”

“I’ll join”

A small but passionate kiss was exchanged, followed by a few quick pecks before the redhead walked off towards our bathroom, the sound of running water filling the air not long after.

No matter the mission, the fight, the argument or the disagreements, we’ll always protect one another. We don’t need the Sokovia Accords for that.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

[queenxxxsupreme]

A Reunion of Sorts (dad!Arthur Morgan x reader)

A/N: Daisy’s middle name is not May! Daisy May is just something John calls her! I have a great aunt who always called my little sister Maddie May even though May was not her middle name. That great aunt always used May as a sort of middle name for my sister and a couple other cousins and I thought it was cute. Find the rest of dad!Arthur Morgan AU on my masterlist here!

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none really, all game canon related

Additional Note: Lupine Valley Ranch is Arthur and Y/N’s ranch/home/farm. We already know Beecher’s Hope is John and Abigail’s. And Lone Paradise is Charles and Lucy’s home/ranch/farm.

***

You rubbed your eyes, struggling to stay awake. The night air was just a little chilly but you wore one of Arthur’s jackets to keep you warm. 

Cicadas and frogs chirped from the woods that surrounded your home. Occasionally, you’d hear a coyote yip or a raccoon chitter and the underbrush would rustle, stirring you just long enough to make your eyes widen. But then you’d start to drift off to sleep on the porch once more. 

“Go on to bed, Y/N.” Arthur insisted, moving to your chair. He was standing at one end of the porch, eyes set on the drive that led to your home. Every once in a while, he’d glance over to you and see your head bobbing as you tried to fight off sleep. 

“No, no.” You shook your head, swatting his hands away as he tried to grab your hands or wrists to pull you to your feet. “I want to stay awake until they get here.”

“I can wake ya up when they get here.”

“You won’t wake me up.”

“Y/N, there’s no sense in you bein’ awake.”

“I want to make sure everyone is well and comfortable tonight.” 

He continued to try to take your hands but you stubbornly refused to let him grab you, knowing he could easily pull you to your feet and haul you off to bed. 

“Arthur Morgan, I want to stay out here with you!”

“What if I don’t want to carry your ass back to bed?” He raised a brow, his tone teasing as he looked down at you. He braced himself on either arm of your chair and leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Just go to bed, woman.”

“No.” You closed your eyes as you leaned against him, only meaning to do so for a few moments. But your eyelids were so heavy that it was a struggle to open them. 

“Pumpkin-,”

“Shut up, Arthur. You’re just tryin’ to get me to go to bed so you can leave and go cause all sorts of trouble you don’t need to be causing.”

“I would never do such a thing.”

“Something’s coming down the road.” Hosea spoke from the other side of the porch. 

You stood to your feet, following Arthur to where Hosea stood. You placed your hand on his forearm, watching the light from a wagon. 

“That’s them.” Arthur picked up his hat from an end table on the porch. 

***

You stood out in the hallway watching as John placed a sleeping Grace down in Daisy’s bed. Daisy was wide awake in your room, pouting and upset that Grace was asleep. She wanted to play, but you told her that with it being so late Grace would probably be asleep. 

“Thank you again for lettin’ us stay here, Y/N.” Abigail placed her hand on your arm. 

“It’s safer for you to be up here.” You gave her a little smile. 

“Uncle Johnny!”

“Shh, Daisy May.” John turned his attention to Daisy, who slipped out of your bedroom. 

“Uncle Johnny, when will Grace be awake?” Daisy tugged on his jacket. 

“It’s past midnight, girly.” John knelt down to be at Daisy’s level. “You should be sleeping.”

Daisy scrunched up her nose at him. 

“I’ve gotta go help your daddy outside.” John ruffled her hair and stood up. 

“Can I come with you? You can see Piper!”

“Now’s not the time for that, Daisy.” You put your hand on her head. “Uncle John and Aunt Abigail want to get to bed, I’m sure. If you want to go out and help Uncle John bring their things inside, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the help.”

“Course not. Come on, Daisy May.”

You and Abigail watched the duo make their way down the hall. 

“How has John been since he saw Micah?” You started towards the kitchen with Abigail behind you. 

“He’s been angry and on edge. He hasn’t been able to sleep none. I haven’t either. It’s hard to sleep when you know Micah Bell is nearby.” 

“Well you all are safe now. I don’t reckon he’s dumb enough to come up here.” Hosea joined you both in the kitchen. 

“Depends on how desperate he is for that Blackwater money.” You went to stand at the kitchen sink. From there, you could look out towards the barn. You could only see that the barn doors were open and there was light coming from inside. 

“I hoped we had left this all behind ten years ago.” Abigail rubbed her eyes and then brushed her messy hair back. “We’ve worked so hard to get away from that. John’s worked so hard to change.”

“We all have.” Hosea reminded her. “That was the only life we ever knew. It wasn’t easy making what we’ve got now. But that’s why we aren’t gonna roll over and give Micah what he wants.”

You watched as Arthur emerged from the barn with Daisy on his shoulders. John, Jack, and Uncle were right behind them. 

“I just don’t want anyone hurt.” You murmured. “We’ve got too much on the line this time.”

***

The Next Morning

Arms wrapped around you from behind. A smile slipped across your lips. You leaned back against your husband. He kissed the back of your head, rubbing your side with one hand. 

“You’re up early.”

“Someone’s gotta feed everybody.” You hummed, looking over your shoulder to him. 

“You didn’t sleep any last night either.” 

“Neither did you.” You pointed out.

He tightened his grip on you, arms holding you firmly against his body as he buried his nose in your hair. 

“What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Obviously it’s something.” 

You tried to move out of his arms but he refused to let you go.  

“Arthur, I’ve got to–,”

“Can you just hold on a second?” He moved to stand next to you, looking down at you with furrowed brows. 

“I’ve got to get breakfast made before the kids wake up, Arthur.”

“Stop messing with the breakfast, pumpkin.” He took your hands and pulled you away from the stove. “You were tossing and turning all night.”

“You know why.” Your voice was low as you held his gaze. “All this talk about Micah coming for Hosea, for us…. I can’t help but get upset and anxious. I’m bound to lose sleep over it. And the only thing that can help me keep my cool is making sure the kids are taken care of and that everyone here has something to eat.”

“We don’t even know yet if he is comin’ for us.” Arthur shook his head. “It’s all just speculation.”

“It would be naive of us to assume he wouldn’t.”

“But it’d be too soon to assume he was. There hasn’t been any signs to point that he was. All John saw was Micah in Blackwater and John movin’ him and Abigail and the kids up here to Lupine Valley is just a precautionary measure.” Arthur brushed his hands up and down your arms. “We gotta take this one step at a time. If we start getting ahead of ourselves and losing it too soon, we’ll just…. Well, bad things will happen.”

You nodded, sniffling and wiping the tears from your cheeks. 

“Why don’t we go out to the porch for a minute? Just for some fresh air?”

“But the breakfast, Arthur.”

“The breakfast can sit here and simmer for a minute.” He put his hand on the small of your back and began to guide you towards the front door. 

The two of you went out to the front porch and sat on the porch swing. Arthur kept his arm around you while you rested your head on his shoulder. He moved the swing back and forth just a bit.

“You know, I almost forgot how much you used to do this.” His voice was low and quiet. 

“Do what?”

“Worry. You worry now, but this…. This is a different kind of worry. The kind that I always thought would give ya a heart attack or something.” He smiled a little at the memories that came flooding back from his time with the Van Der Linde gang. “Every time I went out, I knew you’d be nothin’ but a case of worry and fret.”

“‘Cause I wasn’t sure if you’d come back to me whole or…. Or missing something or even if you’d come back at all.” You murmured. “I used to drive everyone mad at camp. Always had to keep busy when you were gone. Chores with the girls or with Mr. Pearson. I couldn’t sit still. Not until you came back.”

“And then when I’d come back, you’d sleep for hours and hours.” Arthur looked down at you. “You never slept when I was gone.”

“No, I didn’t.” You shook your head, smiling a little. “But that was the good thing about camp. There was always something to do.”

Arthur nodded his head. Silence fell between you both. The sound of morning birds filled the air. But in the distance, Arthur could hear hooves against the dirt road. 

“Stay here a minute.” He muttered under his breath as he stood from the swing.

Your brows furrowed together and you leaned forward, wanting to follow him.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s coming down the road.” He went to the edge of the porch and paused for a moment. 

You moved to stand just behind him, your hand coming up to his back. A horse came into sight a few moments later. It was a familiar one, dark in color with a familiar rider.

Arthur smiled as Sadie stopped the horse just in front of the porch. 

“I didn’t reckon you folks would be up so early.”

“Well, we’ve got a full house right now.” Arthur nodded. “We can talk about it inside.”

“Have you had a long trip, Sadie?” You asked her. “I’m afraid your room is occupied right now but Daisy is in mine and Arthur’s bed if you’d like to rest.”

“I can rest later. Who are your guests?” She tilted her head to the side a bit.

“John and his family.” Arthur shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “There might be trouble in Blackwater.”

***

“I haven’t heard anything about Micah being this close. Is John sure he saw Micah?”

“He’s positive.” Arthur nodded his head. 

“I’ve been keeping a watchful eye on the papers. Wherever he and his new band go, they always turn up in the papers. I haven’t seen anything close to West Elizabeth in a few years.” Sadie shook her head, lifting her cup of coffee to her lips. 

“Somehow the standard snuck through.” Arthur muttered, moving towards the window behind the kitchen sink. 

“Maybe he’s traveling with a lighter gang now so he won’t make so much commotion.” You thought out loud.

“That would be unfortunate for us.” Sadie sighed. “Well, I hope you don’t mind one more guest.”

“Of course not.” Arthur shook his head, turning to lean against the sink. 

“But we are running out of room here.” You frowned. “John and Abigail are staying in your room and Daisy’s sleeping in our room while Jack and Grace get Daisy’s room.”

“And Uncle insists on sleeping out in the hayloft.” Arthur added with a shake of his head. “Old bastard can still make it up the ladder somehow. But I know Charles and Lucy have room over at Lone Paradise.”

“Do they know about Micah?”

“Yeah.” Arthur messed with the brim of his hat. 

“How’s Charles taking it?” Sadie shifted around in her seat so she could see Arthur a bit better. 

“He’s on edge, like all of us are. Lucy’s gonna have her baby soon. Last thing we need is Micah Bell”

“Nothin’s gonna happen to Lucy or that baby.” Sadie assured him, shaking her head as she stood to her feet. “I’m gonna walk around y’all’s property a bit then make my way over to Lone Paradise. I’ll bounce back and forth between here and there. You’re separated by a few acres, right?”

“From the house here headin’ west for thirty acres there’s a big oak with an old wagon sittin’ there. That’s where my property ends and his begins. Keep goin’ west for another ten acres and you’ll come up on his barn first. His house is just beyond that.” Arthur explained. 

“It’s quicker that way than it is going the road.” You added. “There’s a trial to follow too so you shouldn’t get lost. We use it often.”

Sadie nodded and began to head for the door. 

“Be safe out there, Sadie.” 

She turned back to look at Arthur before leaving. 

As the front door closed, he let out a soft breath. 

“Feels better havin’ her here.”

You nodded in agreement, standing to your feet. 

“I don’t think we’ve had everyone here since…. Well, since Daisy was sick three years ago.”

“Sure feels like a long time ago.” Arthur mumbled quietly. “It’s funny how time passes but things still…. Things are the same.”

“How so?” You cocked your head to the side a bit as you came to stand in front of your husband. You placed your hand on his stomach, looking up at him. 

“Micah was the problem back then, and he’s the problem still.”

You pressed your lips together as your eyes lowered to the buttons of his shirt. 

“There were a lot of problems back then, Arthur. Micah was just….” You trailed off, unable to think of the right words. 

“He was the root of it all.”

Something moved out of the corner of your eyes. You turned your head to see Daisy standing in the edge of the kitchen. She held in one hand a stuffed bear Hosea had bought her when she was a baby. Carson was right beside her. Her free hand held on to the back of his neck. There were tears in her eyes and her cheeks were damp. 

“Sweetpea.” Arthur moved away from you so that he could kneel down in front of your daughter. “What happened? What’s got you in tears so early in the mornin’?”

“Had a bad dream.” She sniffled. He used his thumbs to gingerly wipe the tears away. His hands appeared so big as he tenderly cupped her cheeks. “I think I accidentally kicked Carson when I was sleeping.”

Arthur looked down at Carson, who wagged his tail and nosed at Arthur’s arm. 

“Was he layin’ at your feet? I know he likes to do that to watch over you while you sleep.”

“Yeah. I-I woke up and he yipped real loud.” Daisy’s voice hitched in her throat. “Did I hurt him daddy?”

“Where do you think you kicked him, sweetpea?” Arthur kept one hand on Daisy’s side while his other rubbed along Carson’s back and then down each of his legs. 

“I think his chest. Do you think he’s gonna be scared of me, daddy?”

“Don’t be silly, sweetpea.”

“Carson knows you didn’t do it on purpose, Daisy.” You moved to be next to them. 

“I don’t think he’s hurt.” Arthur shook his head. “Think you might’ve just surprised him, sweetpea.”

Daisy stepped closer to Arthur, burying her nose in his neck. He rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head. 

“It’s still early, sweetpea. You wanna go back to bed? I’ll lay down with you.”

“No. I don’t wanna sleep.”

“Are you hungry? I’ve got breakfast almost done.” You brushed your hand along Arthur’s shoulder before turning back to the stove. 

“Yeah, I am.”

“After bit here, you can go wake up Uncle John and Aunt Abigail.” Arthur stood up and in the same motion picked Daisy up. He took her over to the table and placed her down in a chair. “Guess who will be here later on today, sweetpea?”

“Who?”

“Aunt Sadie.”

Daisy’s eyes lit up.

“Really? She’s here!”

“No, well not yet.” Arthur rubbed Daisy’s shoulder. “She’s over at Uncle Charles’s and Aunt Lucy’s. After while, she’ll be coming over here.”

“It’s been forever since I seen her last!”

“I know. It’s gonna be an exciting day.”

Taglist: @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284 @kashasenpai @misskrql @brooke-supernatural16 @lassiee @hocdolliday  @micahs-bird

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[frigid666]

i have seen a lot of heterosexual female dating strategists that advise bisexual women to not disclose their sexuality because it can attract too many "low quality" men. i understand their points, basically nobody treats bisexual women/people as valued partners, so its better to hide it. that's one thing that irks me. from the same-sex dating scene we are advised "just go to straight people" whom they assume all want us. but in reality, we have to wade through so much filth, get degraded, and we may never end up finding a straight partner who actually sees us as anything but a bad investment as well.

however in my experience too, honesty is the best policy. it is simply too dangerous for bisexual people to lie by omission to straight people. if the truth ever comes out, they will feel "tricked" and may become violent/abusive. and by then, a bi woman's life may be too entangled with this straight partner, and she may not be able to leave him despite his abuse. so in my opinion, it is better to avoid these future pitfalls and just be honest. i would rather be insulted or rejected 5 minutes into a convo than 5 months or even 5 years into a relationship. i have witnessed too many bisexual people get burned and heartbroken bc the truth about their sexuality came out to think it's a good idea to keep it a secret anymore. the power imbalance between a straight person and a closeted bisexual person is too great.

its not 100% foolproof, but i have found it useful to subtly gauge opinions of lgbt in various ways before i start seeing someone seriously or casually. one man whom i found to be a safe person in my personal life has tons of gay/bisexual male friends and was not bothered at all when i incorrectly assumed he was himself bisexual (which is why i was receptive to his attention in the first place). but of course, the nature of relationships means that we will always have to make ourselves vulnerable to harm. so we should never fault ourselves for any red flags we "failed" to see; most of the time they were hidden from us by the other party. i wish we didn't have to transform ourselves into fbi agents to date safely. but it's just not possible to let our guards down. i think we are in need of bisexual-specific dating advice resources.

I think a theme we could discuss, about bisexual woman, is how a lot of times we just don't want the man we flirting to know we are bisexual. How we pretend to be hetero for our own protection cuz we fear that the guy would get creepy or think we are whores that do anything.

I don't see people talking a lot about that, I have mutual who have boyfriends and they know that the girl is bisexual, but I'm terribly afraid of letting any heterosexual male know I'm bisexual, so I don't even know how could I ever date a male or tell him that.

I know it maybe sounds mean, but my plan is to lie forever to male and deny forever if he ever ask me if I'm bisexual...

Kinda coward, but thats how I feel

Oh yeah that's a very understandable reaction and fear. Knowing how/when to bring it up I'd definitely a dilemma... advertising it too much exposes bi women to men that chase them out of pornified biphobic ideas, hiding it is awkward and exposes you to the anger of all kinds of homophobes...

My strategy as a bi man has different calculations. I just tell people straight up, as early as possible. As a result 99% of straight women want nothing to do with me, and that's fine. I've seen too many cases where they become very upset and homophobic so I'd rather just avoid that entirely.

[yenafmd]

CROWNED: interview #2

how do you feel about how you and your group performed today?

“i think we did well. we worked hard and showed the best version of ourselves we could. im proud of calypsso.” but would it be enough? that was always the question. with these types of programs one could never know. yena hated that feeling, like their efforts didn’t really weigh in on their results, especially when they would be treated like it did. “i hope the jury and the votes agree with me. calypso has done the best we could and i stand by that. now all we can do is hope that the results reflect that.”

do you have any regrets about the stage

“i’m not the kind of person to have regrets.” a laugh escaped yena, ever easygoing and confident om camera. that it was only because if she’d stop to think about her regrets she’d surdly collapse kn the spot was something no one else had to know. “like i said, we gave our all, me included and i think that’s all we can do.” her best might not have been as good as that of her members but it would have to make do. “all we can do is hope the audience agrees and if not... there is next round. no point in mourning the past.

how will you take what you learned from this performance into the next round?

“i’m much more aware now of just how much the competition is on now.” the difference between groups seemed to be quite large, yena liked to think that in terms of how elaborate their stage had been a safe middle ground but some groups truly went much effort had went into elevating their stages. “i kind of assumed it to be a little more amicable but seeing how serious everyone seems... i think it’s time i step up my game.” a nonsensical giggle escaping her. it’s okay, calypso will only keep on showing improvement.” 

how do you think you’ll fair in the rankings for your performance?

“mhm... first place maybe?” there was a playful hint to her words, remaining on the edge of joking and endleslly confident was yena’s forte after all, a big mouth with a strong personality to back it up, it was what she was known for. “i think that should be realistic yes, and if not, at least top five, i think that would be fair if you ask me.” a firm nod following her words, reasserting how sure she was of herself. “if you don’t play to win, why play at all right?”

which group’s performance (other than your own group) was the strongest?

“ahhh...” yena let her words trail off, pulling a thoughtful expression for a second. there were a couple of stages that stood out to her, now it was up to her to weigh which one she would consider the strongest. “i think equinox did really well. i know a lot of people have said that by now but i think that is just an attest to how impressive their stage was.” she nodded, seemingly content with her answer before shooting a wink at the camera. “not as good as us of course though.” 

which group’s performance was the weakest?

that was a considerably easier question than the last one. yena knew how to be critical after all, not just of herself. “does it bave to be one group? can it be two?” she asked, awaiting some sort of response from the production crew. that question probably wasn’t going to make her very popular but oh well, yena hoped that if she split the responsibility that maybe the fans of whatever group would feel less targeted. that and it was onlynfair she called them both out on the same downfall. “i think quantum and catalyst both had too many bells and whistles to their performance. there was just too much going on and i think focussing so much on that they lost track of the core of their performance. no offense i just think that they kinda pulled the attention away from themselves and that’s too bad, they don’t need all that stuff too be good.” ha, there, her criticism perfectly masked by tagging on a compliment at the end.

[momolady]

Living Armor Boyfriend: Coeval

Female Main Character (cis) x Male Monster (nonbinary)

My mother is not a bad person, just a selfish one. I think it’s part of being a child of Father Klaus. Despite the stories of Father Klaus that say he is a giving, wise person, his needs must be met and I think he passed that on to his children. My mother Holly and her siblings Nicolas, Noel, Mikolaj, Belle and who knows how many more, all exhibit the same level of selfishness in different ways.

I think this is where my mother’s desire for attention stems. She has a deep fondness for men. She has several husbands and many more lovers, and I know I have just as many siblings, as my mother just adores being pregnant. I am her eldest child, her firstborn, and while she tried to be a good mother sometimes other matters got in the way. I do hold a level of respect for my mother with my love, but it has been so long since I last communicated with her, I do not know where I stand.

I left Holly’s keep with my father when I was a child. He had fallen out of Holly’s favor, and left to seek his own fortune. He began taking in others who had fallen from Holly’s favor, which is how he and my second father met. My second father was also a lover of Holly, and he had my sister Lydia with her. Lydia is quite a bit younger than me, and she never really got to know Holly. To her, Holly is a faint memory.

Sometime later, my sister Edith came to stay with us. Her father is still Holly’s number-one husband, and she was set to be Holly’s heir. But Edith had a severe falling-out with her over her treatment of her husbands, and she ran from home with the idea that her father needs saving.

To be honest, I’m not sure if the treatment of the men in Holly’s keep is technically terrible. But I want to help my sister. I know how much it means to have my father around and be able to see him whenever I want, so I can only assume how bad it must hurt Edith to not see her father. Also, if we could get to Holly, I think it would be good for Lydia to talk with her.

Right now, everything has gone upside down, sideways, and around a corner. After summoning a spirit to help us combat our mother, we’ve been spirited away ourselves. I’m still in the pavilion with the suit of armor that approached me, but my sisters and the two other animated suits are gone. I scramble, trying to catch my breath from the shock. I look back at the armor, which has a sort of reddish-gold glow about it.

“Where are they?” I’m nearly hyperventilating. “Where did they go? What did you do?” In my panic and fear, I start to grow, nearly standing taller than the suit of armor.

The suit of armor laughs. “Calm down, fine lady, your sisters are safe as they are with my brothers.” He looks me up and down. “My, my, so you do have the power of Father Klaus.”

I shrink back down to normal size and cross my arms against my chest. “Where are they, then? They must be somewhere!”

“My brothers have them. We like to create theatrics and splendor in order to bond with our new partner.” He lifts the visor of his helmet up so I can see three glowing eyes, all bright and golden, one above and between the other two. “The name is Coeval,” he announces with a laugh. “What’s yours?”

“Winifred,” I murmur. “So, if my sisters are with your brothers, then where am I?”

“Glad you asked.” Coeval bows at the waist, then offers his hand to me. “Come with me, I have some things to show you.”

I refuse to take the proffered hand. “Look, we’re both adults here. You don’t need to go about this like some children’s story. Just tell me plainly what your plan is. While you’re at it, tell me why you and your brothers are doing this, when my sisters and I summoned you to be our...”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Coeval raises his hands in surrender. “Calm down. Are you always this high-strung? Where’s your sense of wonder and adventure?”

I frown at him, keeping my arms crossed.

“This is our chance to bond. I am your familiar, and in order for our powers to work for you and your sisters, we have to establish a bond.” He offers his hand again. “So come with me, and live in the moment.”

I look at his hand, then back into his three eyes. “Live in the moment,” I huff. “Easier said than done.”

His eyes roll, and he points outside of the pavilion. “Let me take you to the keep you wish to enter.”

I glare at him in disbelief. “You can’t just waltz in there!” I begin to grow again.

“Hey, hey!” Coeval puts his hands in the air again. “If you haven’t realized yet, this is magic! Think of yourself as being inside a snowglobe right now! Take a breather, Winifred. It’s okay.”

I stand looking down at him until I shrink back to normal size. “This is an illusion?”

Coeval nods and chuckles. “I’m trying to present a lesson to you, and by the looks of it, I’m not a moment too soon.” He offers his hand a third time. “So please, Winifred, let me show you this magic.”

I reluctantly take his hand, and he holds it tightly. “Wow, you’re warm,” I gasp.

Coeval pulls me close. “Okay, we’re going to get a running start.” He puts his arm around my waist and holds me upon his hip. I yelp in surprise as he takes off running. “Wait! Wait!” I slam my palm against his shoulder. “There’s a cliff ahead!” I try to get his attention, but he keeps running faster and faster. I beat at his plating, shrinking in his grasp “Cliff!” I yell as he leaps into the air. I scream and hold onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“It’s okay! Look down!”

“No! Why? That’s awful, that’s...” I gasp softly as I peek from the corner of my eye. We’re not falling at all. In fact, we’re suspended in the air. I take it all in, but I still refuse to look down. “What on earth…?” I breathe.

“Not on earth,” Coeval chuckles. “Just look at it all! How beautiful is this scenery? The lights, the buildings.”

I swat at the snow frozen in the air. “This really is magic.”

“There’s magic everywhere, but sometimes you have to take a breath to notice it.” Coeval eases me down, and while my feet touch nothing, they fall flat against the air. I begin to grow again as I look around, awed by something I’ve seen a million times before.

“Come along, now. We’ll be late.” Coeval walks ahead, tugging my hand until I follow. I try to keep up, staying close to him out of fear of falling. My feet feel as though they are touching something solid, but there’s nothing under me.

“You’re not looking.” Coeval pulls me beside him. “Stop looking at my back.”

“This is too much,” I whisper.

“We all worry about where our feet will land, but sometimes it’s fun to let the path carry us.” He stands behind me and takes both of my hands in his, holding them up. As he does, my feet begin to sink through the air and pump like on an invisible bicycle.

“Oh no!” I struggle and squirm. “What are you doing?”

“Relax! You’re flying! It’s freeing, right?” he says. “When you fly, there’s no path you have to follow, so you don’t have to worry!”

I try to steady my legs and keep walking. After a short while, I get used to the feeling, and actually like the sensation of weightlessness. I chuckle softly, letting a smile bloom across my face.

“See?” Coeval laughs. “It’s fun!”

“I always wished I could fly! But Edith was the lucky one when...” I drop a bit and I scramble at the sudden, short plummet.

“Stop that now. The more you fret, the heavier you become.”

I rise back up and turn to look back at Coeval. “Is this what you wanted me to see?”

“We’re almost there, no worries,” he chuckles. “I think you’ll enjoy this.���

We come up to Holly’s keep, and Coeval dances me around the high towers. We go through a window and land on the floor, which now feels so strange. I can hear music and laughter down the hall. Some children come running in our direction, but as I sidestep to avoid them, they run right through me, like a ghost.

“You won’t be seen here,” Coeval says brightly. “All part of the magic!”

I stand still for a moment, looking after the children who just passed us.

“Winifred, is something wrong?” Coeval asks gently.

“It’s been so long since I was last here. I know this place so well, and yet I feel like such a stranger.” I look back up at Coeval and shake my head. “This feels strange to me, even if I can’t be seen. Being here is...”

Coeval puts his hand on my shoulder. “Out of place.”

“Yeah,” I murmur.

“Then why not join the party?” He walks with me down the hall that opens into the grand ballroom, which is decorated from top to bottom in red and gold. I look around in awe. People are dressed in costume, matching the decor of the party. There are tall trees that glitter with decorations, tables filled with all sorts of food. Children are dancing and playing, and I don’t see a single sad face in the crowd. I recognize some of the people from my time growing up here. Old friends of my mother, some of her husbands, a few lovers.

Coeval moves between the people, almost dancing himself. He laughs, as if he considers himself part of the revelry. “Are you just going to stand there and watch, Winifred?” he asks.

“What else can I do?” I murmur. “No one can see me.”

Coeval throws his arms open. “Exactly! You can do whatever you want! You can dance, you can sing, you can make as big a fool of yourself as you want!” He holds both his hands out to me. “Come dance with me!”

I smile shyly. “I’m not really a dancer.”

Coeval leans down to meet my eye. “Does that really matter?”

I take his hands and let him whisk me onto the dance floor. We spin and flourish, and he lifts me high into the air. I laugh loudly, finding myself enjoying the dance, even if I trip and stumble. Coeval spins me out and I topple over, cackling. I lie on the floor with a grin, until I look up and see my mother standing over me.

I jump up in alarm, then remember she can’t see me. Unlike the others in the ballroom, my mother does not look as if she is enjoying the festivities. Her expression is sullen despite a smile, and her eyes are red and puffy from crying.

“Holly, come have a drink with me.” Edith’s father tries to coerce her into moving.

Holly hangs her head and sighs heavily. “Let me find my mask first.”

“You don’t have to force yourself to be out here, you know?” Edith’s father says gently. “I know you’re not up to it.”

She looks at him wearily. I’ve never seen such an expression on her. She always seemed so confident and regal when I was a child. “Every year these things just get harder on me.”

“Then let me reach out to...”

Holly’s eyes widen and she steps back from him. “No! I promised.” She sinks back down and cups her hand over her face. “I made a promise. I won’t interfere with their lives anymore.”

“They are your children,” Edith’s father insists. “My daughter too.”

“They won’t listen to me. As long as you’re here, Edith will always see me as the bad one. She won’t trust me or anyone. It’s best we wait until she lets go of her anger.” Holly turns to the fireplace, where there are stockings hung in a line. She takes one into her hand, and it has Edith’s name embroidered in gold along the heel. “They are my mistakes, and I’ll let them hang over me.”

I stand beside her and look at the stockings. I see one for me and one for Lydia as well. “Oh wow,” I whisper.

“Notice anything?” Coeval stands beside me again.

I look at my mother as she lays her head on her husband’s shoulder. “Yeah, we’re all stubborn.”

Coeval chuckles. “Wouldn’t it be so much easier for you to stop looking at the hurt of the past, and worrying about your actions in the future?” He slips his warm hand onto the small of my back. “Wouldn’t it be easier, Winifried, to let that all go and enjoy what you have right now?”

I sigh heavily. “That’s how Lydia lives,” I grumble. “It would be better for you to be with her.” I move aside, sitting on a stool in the corner. “What does seeing this do for me? If I try to convince Edith of anything other than what she has in her mind, she’ll get mad at me too.”

“But that is her problem, Winifried.” Coeval kneels beside me. “You’re worrying about Edith and Lydia. But what about you? What do you want? How do you want to live?”

The ballroom goes dark and empty. The fire dwindles to a few smoldering embers. There is a chill in the air, and my breath comes out in thick white clouds. “This is what you wanted me to see, isn’t it? This is your magic.”

“You can’t live if you’re concerned with the past, and chasing after an uncertain future.” Coeval stands up and holds his hand out to me. “You can’t ignore yourself.”

I take his hand and stand back up. “How are you so warm?” I move closer to him, holding him like we are about to waltz.

“My brothers and I come from under the Kringle Peaks,” he chuckles. “It’s nice and warm down there.”

I smile and laugh. “Oh, I bet!” I look up and see something under Coeval’s visor besides glowing eyes and smoke. There’s a smile beginning to appear. “Are you cold up here, then?”

“Not as long as you keep standing close,” he winks.

My cheeks grow warm, and I giggle shyly. “When do we have to go back? Soon?”

Coeval and I begin to dance in the dark, silent ballroom. He moves me slowly, and for once, I don’t trip or stumble over my feet. I flow with him, moving to music in my head. “No,” he answers quietly. “We don’t have to go just yet. We can stay here for a while, if you like.”

I lean into him, enjoying his warmth and his company. “Will they be waiting for us, though?”

He laughs jovially again. “Don’t worry about it.”

He picks me up and spins me until I float in the air. He holds me up there, then catches me in his arms. We spin together and then come to a stop. I hold him for the longest time, pressing my cheek to his warm breastplate. “I’ve never danced like this before,” I murmur.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Coeval begins to move again. “Have you always wanted to dance?”

I shake my head. “I never really thought about it. I was never any good, and I don’t dwell on the things I can’t do.”

“Sometimes, it’s just fun to try new things, even things we don’t think we can do.” He lifts me up again, throwing me into the air. Snow falls around me, and I float above the world. I take a breath in the stillness, feeling my worries drift away with the breeze. I see the keep in the distance, and a breeze blows the snowflakes around me. I smile to myself, letting out a laugh before I float back down into Coeval’s hands and touch down on the floor of the pavilion. I look up at him with a bright smile. I turn, watching as my sisters reappear through the falling snow. They stand with their new familiars, and I have so many questions for them. I squeeze Coeval’s hand while they remain standing.

“Thank you,” I whisper to him. “for showing me this.”

He bows his head to me. “I hope to show you many things, but let’s not worry about the future just yet.”

[slippinmickeys]

The Annapolis Grant, part 3/?

Despite being in first class and further away from the engine noise at the wings, the throttle up when the engines went to full on the runway never failed to wig her out. She gripped the armrests and closed her eyes, willing her pulse to go down. She repeated safety statistics silently in an attempt to remind herself that flying was still the safest way to travel, but it did little to assuage what she fully admitted was an irrational fear.

“Are you a nervous flyer?” Mulder’s voice rumbled at her shoulder. She opened her eyes to look at him, and he was leaning toward her, a look of concern in his eyes. She wanted to ease her grip on the armrests and give him a reassuring smile, but found she couldn’t. She nodded at him, pulling her lips into her mouth on a breath.

“Would it help to hold my hand?” he asked, rather sweetly holding out the palm of his hand toward her. She was about to refuse when the plane tilted sharply left. They’d opted to fly out of National rather than Dulles, which meant the aircraft had to bank more steeply at takeoff to avoid the no-fly airspace of the Capitol. Before it had even leveled out, Scully found she was gripping Mulder’s hand tightly, which he squeezed and pulled to rest gently on his knee.

His hand was warm, dry and soft, and he twisted it to interlace their fingers, his own long and elegant. Piano-playing fingers, her mother would call them.

“I’m not sure how much of a touchy-feely person you are,” he said after a couple of minutes, “but this is probably good.” He nodded toward their interlaced fingers. “How much public affection are you comfortable with?”

“Honestly?” Scully said, “Not much. But… I think I need to get over that for the purposes of this week. If we’re going to pull this off, we need to be convincing.” Mulder nodded and squeezed her fingers. “I’m not saying we need to lay it on thick,” she went on, “but, you should feel free to put your arm around me or hold my hand, or…” her voice trailed off as her thoughts spun.

“I’ll follow your lead,” he said, then lifted her hand and placed a soft kiss on it.

She felt her stomach dip. What was going on with her?

“Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” he said, “and I’ll do the same.”

“Good idea,” she said, and leaned back in the plush comfort of the first class seat, telling him everything she could think of about herself, starting at the beginning of her life and going onward. He was attentive, occasionally asking questions, and several times made comments that made her outright laugh. “And that’s… me.” She finished, “I work long hours, I practically live in my lab-”

“-and you recently acquired a devoted and loving fiance,” he finished for her.

She chuckled. “Yes,” she said, “and that.”

She looked down at their laced fingers, realizing that somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten to be scared of flying.

“So what about you?” she asked him. “What should I know about you for this week? What will we tell McKay?”

“I’m going to pivot a bit here,” he said, “go with it?”

“Okay...” she was curious.

“Do you have a ring?” he asked her. “An engagement ring?”

“You know, I’d thought about that,” she said. She remembered the first thing McKay had done when she’d mentioned a fiancé, was glance at her ring finger. “I told McKay that the engagement was new and that we were having the ring sized. I went to a couple pawn shops and an antique store this weekend, but I couldn’t find anything that would really work.”

“I may be able to help with that,” he said, letting go of her hand so that he could reach into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet pouch. He set it on the tray table in front of her.

She reached forward and pulled open the drawstring, shaking out its contents onto her palm. She gasped quietly. The ring was gold with an aged patina, a large diamond solitaire sat in the middle, flanked by two emerald cut sapphires.

“Mulder…” she said, looking up at him.

“It was my grandmother’s,” he said. “I find in these… situations, that sticking as closely to the truth as possible can help, well… sell the story. I’ll obviously need the ring back at the end of our arrangement, but little details might help this McKay to…”

“Believe the lie?” Scully offered.

“If you like,” Mulder said kindly.

Scully slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

“Good fit,” he said.

She smiled at him and met his eye. “So stick as closely to the truth as possible?”

“Whenever you can,” he said, tucking the empty pouch back into the inner pocket of his linen suit. “So. I’m going to tell you about myself -- things you should be comfortable sharing with McKay -- that way we won’t talk ourselves into any corners.”

“That sounds sensible,” she said, “one thing though.” He raised his eyebrows inquiringly. “What should we tell him you… do. For a living.”

He shrugged. “The truth.” It was her turn to raise eyebrows. “I’m pursuing my PhD,” he clarified. Her eyebrows went up even higher. “I was midway through my degree when my parents were killed in an accident. My sister was badly injured. She was in the hospital for months. I had to sell my parents house, move back… It cost a lot of money to get her where she is today. I do this job to finance my degree and to take care of her.”

Scully’s heart went out to him. Whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been that.

“Is she okay, your sister?” she asked him.

“Samantha,” he said. “She has good days and bad. We’re getting through it.”

For the first time he seemed to clam up and his openness closed off a bit. She wouldn’t pry.

“What degree are you pursuing?” she asked him.

“Psychology,” he answered.

“Where?”

“Oxford, until the accident,” he said, “now Georgetown.”

Scully looked at him. He was absolutely full of surprises. She looked down at the ring on her finger. It was exactly the kind of thing she would have picked out for herself.

“I’m… I was not expecting…” she started to say before she was aware she’d even opened her mouth, she stopped herself before she insulted him, “this level of service,” she finished lamely.

Mulder stared at her baldly. “We’re a full-service boutique, Dr. Scully,” he said.

Scully felt her face flush.

The flight attendant came by then with hot towels, and Mulder turned from her to politely thank the attendant.

“Mind the prongs on the sapphires,” he said as Scully shook a little heat out of her own before using it, “they have a tendency to catch on sweaters and towels.” She looked over at him and he gave her a quiet smile.

Xx

They were the first off the plane, out of the jetway and snaking into the masses -- LAX was absolutely packed, filled with travelers either coming or going for the Independence Day holiday. As they passed a gate that was about to board, a man wearing a huge backpack turned around, not paying attention to the added bulk strapped to his shoulders and bumped roughly into Scully, who stumbled. Mulder smoothly grabbed her elbow, righting her. From that point on, he led her gently through the busy terminal, one hand resting on the small of her back and the other held out to keep people out of her space.

He collected their luggage as it came off of the carousel, taking her suitcase and his own garment bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He then nodded toward an area near the exit doors.

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand, “I think that’s our driver.” There was an impeccably liveried older gentleman standing with a sign reading “SCULLY.” When she looked up at him, his eyes were bright and focused on her.

It was odd. She'd dated men who'd been sweet and conscientious. She'd had boyfriends that made her feel safe and taken care of. She'd met men (and a few women) who made her feel wanted -- who looked at her with a hunger that made her skin feel tight around her bones. But she'd never experienced all of those things at once, all from the same person. An odd feeling that crept up her spine, but she shook it off, following the driver McKay had sent to their waiting limousine.

XxX

She had forgotten about the traffic in LA. Despite the fact that the airport was very near where McKay’s yacht was docked in Marina del Rey, it still took forty five minutes to get to the marina, enough time for Scully to have second thoughts. And third. And fourth. By the time the limo crawled to a stop in a narrow parking lot adjacent to the docks, Scully was as tense as a tightrope, ready to snap.

The driver opened the door nearest Mulder, who rose confidently onto the hot asphalt and held out a hand to help her out.

“This way, please,” the driver said, turning on his heel to lead them toward the docks. Scully turned back to the car to inquire about their luggage, but there were already two -- what Scully assumed to be dockhands or porters, pulling their baggage out of the trunk -- they were dressed alike, each in navy shorts with a walkie talkie clipped to their waist, and a crisp white polo shirt with the name “Dominus” embroidered on the front.

When the driver led them to the plank leading to the boat, she heard Mulder’s small intake of breath. She was bowled over, herself. She’d expected it to be big, but the Dominus was massive. She could see various crew members darting about on the various decks, and there, standing at the top of the teak and chrome boarding plank was Alexander McKay himself. She took a deep, steadying breath.

A man and woman dressed in the crew uniform met them at the bottom of the plank.

“Hello,” the man said, extending a hand. “I’m Greg, I’m the head steward for the Dominus. This is Krista,” he gestured to the woman, who smiled at them warmly, “she’ll be your personal steward. Anything at all you need, find one of us. We’ll be sure your baggage gets to your stateroom. Welcome aboard.” He gestured them toward the ship.

Mulder and Scully both gave them their thanks and then turned to… well, to walk the plank, thought Scully. Into the depths we go.

Just as she was about to take a step, Mulder put a hand on her shoulder and leaned down to place a kiss into her hairline. She looked up to see McKay watching, a smile she couldn’t read playing about his lips.

With Mulder close behind her, she stepped aboard.

[subjecta5newtella]

you know that trope where person a is having a really hard time and person b spends time with them to calm them down at night and they are about to leave so person a can get some sleep but person a grabs their hand and asks them to stay. you know that trope. but it’s nalby in the glade

this was supposed to be like. 200 words. the all-consuming love for pre-thomas glade dynamics hit me and now it's 2.3k. god help me.

Alby tries to tell himself it’s just habit that brings him to the Map Room at the same time every day, not some kind of ritual or anything. Surely it’s normal to hate a break in routine, to feel just a little off-balance when something requires his attention and he doesn’t arrive in time to walk to dinner with the Runners.

All the Runners. Definitely not one particular Runner. The second-in-command shouldn’t be playing favorites.

He’s been late the last couple days, tasked with shuttling the new Greenie around when Nick needs to attend to other things, but the kid has attached himself to a group of the Builders to the point where Alby feels like he can leave him for a while (and thank god for that, honestly, because he’s one of the ones that talks all the time when he’s nervous).

He watches the Runners file out of the Map Room one by one, but Minho comes out last and locks the door and there’s still one missing.

“Where’s—“ Alby starts, but Minho cuts him off before he can even get the question out.

“Finished his map early and headed off. He’s been weird all day.”

“Why?”

Minho shrugs. “Fuck if I know, dude. You know how hard it is to get answers out of that guy when he doesn't want to talk? Might work for you, though.”

There are a hell of a lot of implications there, a lot of observations he’s made that Alby hadn’t noticed him making, but Minho isn’t in charge of the Runners for no reason. Talking to him is easier once you remember that, as much as he sometimes makes it hard.

“I’ll try,” Alby says, and sets off to find Newt.

Newt’s not in the first place he looks, which is probably good because that particular spot behind the Homestead is where Alby had found the wreckage of him one time in the early days, a time bad enough that they just don’t speak of it. He’s not in the gardens either, and as Alby treks back across the Glade to head towards the trees, he curses Newt’s tendency to vanish when he’s upset. It could be worse; he’s not picking fights or breaking shit or any of the other, more destructive coping mechanisms Alby’s seen from some of the Gladers, but since the anxiety doesn’t go away until he finds Newt, he wishes Newt was a little less opposed to being found.

Alby finally finds him just past the area where most of the Gladers sleep, half in the woods but not quite. He’s brought his sleeping bag with him as well, as though he expects to stay there until morning, as though he thinks his wouldn’t be one of the most visible absences possible for the rest of the evening. He’s staring up at the trees, flat on his back and face still a little red, and when Alby comes to sit next to him he turns his head and pushes himself up into a sitting position, but doesn’t say anything.

Newt’s an odd creature sometimes. Alby knows him better than anyone else, but there are still times when he’s not sure if the best thing to do is get him to talk or leave him alone. Maybe this time the right thing to do is not to talk, but with every second the quiet feels more and more like a weight pressing down, and Alby breaks.

“What’s going on?”

Newt won’t look at him for a moment, just at his own hands, but then he seems to come to some kind of decision and makes eye contact. “I don’t think there’s a way out of here,” he says, and then everything spills out of him like bile or blood. “I think Minho thinks the same thing, he just doesn’t want to admit it. And that feels bad all the time but it feels worse when there’s a new Greenie, because it’s bad enough that there’s another kid stuck here with us, but then we’re supposed to give them hope. They find out about the Runners and they get told we’re looking for a way out, and they start to think it’s actually possible.”

And that…. well. Alby doesn’t begin to know what to say to that. “Are you sure it’s not?”

“I mean, no, I can’t say with absolute certainty or anything, but... it just repeats. I think we’ve found everything we’re gonna find.”

Alby doesn’t really do optimism—he’s not as much of a pessimist as Newt is sometimes, more of a realist if anything—but he can’t let that linger, can’t even look directly at it for too long.

“So you don’t know for sure. Which means it might all be fine, and maybe tomorrow one of you will figure out something new, and we’ll all get out of here.”

“It’s not that bloody simple,” Newt snaps, and Alby bites back a retort, because he’s fucking trying, okay?

Instead he just says, “I know. Just... trying to help.”

Newt sighs. “Yeah, sorry. That wasn’t fair. Been a bad day, that’s all. Bad couple days.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You weren’t the one who put us here. Unless I’m missing something, in which case you might want to admit to it now while I’m too tired to kill you.” And sure, it’s almost all a joke, but Alby can’t help but feel like it’s a little bit true. For all that Newt is kind, for as much as he cares about every single person in the Glade, or maybe because of all those things, he has a hatred for the Creators like nothing else Alby’s ever seen from him.

Still, he’s pretty sure he’s safe from that kind of threat, or at least as safe as someone with no recollection of their past can be, so he says, “Not as far as I know.”

Newt’s quiet for a minute, and then he says, “What if it was one of us?”

“Why would we put ourselves here if it was?”

Newt shrugs. “I guess.”

He falls silent after that, and this time Alby lets him stay that way, at least for a while. Eventually, though, he checks his watch and realizes they can’t wait any longer if they want to eat, and starving isn’t exactly going to do Newt’s mood any good.

“Alright, you need to eat before dinner’s over. And shower, and then you can continue staring at nothing if you really want.”

“That genius for planning is why you’re second-in-command, huh?” Newt says with an asymmetrical smile, and Alby says, “Sure,” because sometimes Nick’s justifications for it don’t make a lot of sense to him either.

He gets to his feet and turns to pull Newt up with him, and they head for dinner. Frypan gives them a look for being late, and Minho spares a glance, eyes flicking from Newt to Alby before he nods just a little, but no one says anything about the way they arrive after everyone and as a matched set. They’ve all just got enough of their own problems, maybe. A lot of eyes still on the Greenie, too.

After dinner and showers and Alby spending the whole walk back fighting the urge to tuck the chunk of hair that’s fallen out of Newt’s mess of a bun back into place, they end up in the same spot, mostly hidden from where the rest of the Gladers are setting up for the night.

This time, Alby chooses the second option. He waits to see if Newt will talk, and when he doesn’t, he leaves the silence alone. It’s not a comfortable emptiness, not when everything Newt had said earlier still lingers, but pushing any further seems like it might hurt more than mend.

That’s one possible answer, at least. Another is that he’s scared to lean too hard on whatever it is between them for fear that it might break. A third is that he’s afraid of all the things that Newt might say. So he waits, and he hopes that his presence is any kind of reassurance.

Eventually, though, night starts to set in and he can’t justify keeping Newt awake any longer. He goes to stand up, but Newt’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist and good god, Alby sometimes forgets how fast he can move.

“Don’t leave.” Newt says, and Alby shakes his head.

“You should get some rest. Don’t want you running the Maze tired tomorrow.”

Newt says, “You being here doesn’t prevent me from resting,” which is true, sure, but not something Alby had been ready to assume. You don’t set up for the night in the middle of the woods if you want company, at least not in his own experience of things, but if Newt wants him to stay, what other choice can he make?

“Can I at least go get my own sleeping bag?”

Newt’s fingers uncurl in response, and Alby gently tugs his wrist away, going to collect his things. On the way back he runs into Nick, making the rounds before bed, which is a thing Alby usually accompanies him on except that he’s been a little distracted.

Nick’s gaze drops to the sleeping bag and pillow in Alby’s arms, and Alby mentally curses the sense of order that had led him to sleep in the same place since the beginning, meaning that now any kind of rearrangement looks unusual.

“Is everything okay?” Nick asks, brow furrowed.

Alby doesn’t lie to Nick. He doesn’t lie in general, really, but especially not to Nick because the Glade doesn’t function if communication between them breaks down. But this... he’s not ready to tell Nick what Newt suspects. It’s still only a suspicion, one that could easily be proved wrong, and he’s not ready to damage morale that badly without proof.

So he lies, or at least omits part of the truth. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Newt’s just in a mood, and I’m keeping an eye on him to make sure he’s not gonna be out of it in the Maze tomorrow.” There’s no point in trying to say it like he’d do this for any other Runner, not with the way he and Newt have been bound since the early days by something still unvoiced, but he can still pretend at least a little.

Nick knows there’s no truth to that last part at least, but Alby knows how much time he spends picking his battles, so he’s not surprised when Nick just nods. “Sounds good. Don’t want him getting injured.”

“Yeah. Sorry for ditching nighttime rounds.”

“It’s fine. You might have to take the Greenie tomorrow if the supply meeting goes over, so we’ll call it even.”

It’s an empty threat, given that Alby’s most useful skills as a leader lie in allotment and record-keeping, but he takes the way out Nick’s offering him. “Fine.”

Nick nods. “Alright, go ahead. Deal with whatever you’re dealing with.”

“Thanks,” Alby says, and heads back to the space in the trees.

Newt looks up when he approaches, propping himself up on his elbows. He mostly just looks tired now, which is an improvement at least, even if it doesn’t do wonders for Alby’s confidence in sending him out into the Maze in the morning. “Forgot you’re supposed to have a job to do. Wouldn’t have stolen you from Nick if I remembered.”

Alby spreads out his sleeping bag, laying down on top of it. It’s too warm in the Glade to sleep inside it, which kind of feels like an oversight on someone’s part. “I ran into him on the way back, it’s fine. He’s threatening to make me take over with the Greenie if the meeting tomorrow runs long, but it’s probably an empty threat. Hopefully.”

Newt worms his way close enough to bump Alby with a shoulder. “Be nice to the new kid, Albert.”

“I’m trying, he just talks so much.”

“Can’t be worse than Kuo.”

Alby snorts. “You haven’t met him.”

“I met him the first full day he was here!”

“For three minutes! And it’s not like he even asks a ton of questions, I can either answer those or deflect fine, but he’ll just say things and I have no idea how I’m supposed to react to them.”

“I’m sure he’s just scared.”

“Yeah, I know. I think he’s gonna get absorbed into the Builders soon enough anyway, he’s already halfway there.”

“That helps.”

“Yeah. I keep hoping that Nick will get that I’m shit at this, but I guess sometimes there aren’t other options.”

Newt shrugs. “You’re good at plenty of other things, and you haven’t killed a Greenie yet.”

“I don’t think I like ‘yet’ in that sentence.”

“I’m confident in your ability to not kill a Greenie. Better?”

“Yeah, sure.” Alby readjusts his pillow, doing his best not to acknowledge the root under his head because proximity takes priority over comfort right now. “Sorry. Didn’t come back just to complain.”

“Nah, it’s okay. Took my mind off everything a little.”

“Are you gonna be okay tomorrow?” Alby asks, knowing as he does that it’s probably only going to make Newt mad, but he can’t just not ask.

Sure enough, there’s a bite to it when Newt says, “I’ll be fine,” that hadn’t been there a second ago.

“Don’t get pissed off at me for caring about you. It’s just dangerous out there, and—“

“Yeah, I have figured that out, actually. I can take care of myself.”

“I never said you couldn’t, don’t start acting like I did.”

“No, you just—“ Newt stops himself and sighs, looking away. “I’m sorry. I’m… yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Alby reaches out and interweaves his fingers with Newt’s, half-expecting him to pull away and ready to let go if he does. He doesn’t.

When he wakes before dawn with Newt’s face pressed into his shoulder, Alby thinks he could almost be happy staying in the Glade like this, but only almost. One of them has to believe they’ll get out of here, and if that means he has to play at optimism for a while, it’s one more role he’ll do his best to handle.