#babys first tourism

[beetlehoven]

omg papa

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

so theres a lot of posts going round about the titanic wreck and the missing submarines; all of them that ive seen have made very good points about how shoddy the submersible seemed to be and how the company decided to wait eight hours before reporting it, and how this is a play stupid games, win stupid prizes for the ultra-wealthy who paid like 250grand a ticket for this thing.

but what i havent seen any posts about is how the titanic wreck is a gravesite and this tourism is disturbing the graves of over 1500 people.

sometimes its kinda hard to remember that those on the titanic were real people; it was over a century ago, the story has been romanticised in so many ways (like the movie), theres conspiracies theories galore that cloud everything with misinformation, but at the end of the day, those who died were real people.

do you want their names? heres a list of them; its a long read. and for fun, heres another site where you can see photos of the children and babies who died aboard.

their bodies are long gone and their lives long forgotten. all we have to remember them and honour them is the wreck itself. its all we have of them and it is their gravesite. its their tombstone.

caitlin doughty/ask a morticians video on the great lakes discusses the topic well, and why we should leave these shipwrecks alone because again, they are the gravesites of all the souls who died aboard those ships. we rarely have bodies to recover so we really are left just with the wreck.

and what really upsets me about titanic tourism is how the majority of those who died that night were not the ultra-wealthy rich folks you might picture when you think of ocean liners.

61% of the first class passengers survived

42% of the second class passengers survived

24% of the third class passengers survived

24% of the crew survived **

the majority of those who died that night were regular folk; not to be cliche, but they were just like us. titanics wreck is not only a gravesite for over 1500 people, its also a majority working class gravesite.

and look at us now. look at what were doing. the ultra-wealthy can pay the equivalent of peanuts to them to disturb a mass gravesite of the exact kind of people they exploit today to hold onto all their wealth. 

its easy to point and laugh at these dumb idiots in their playstation controller submarine, seemingly held together with super glue and duct tape, but its also important to remember that what they were doing was simply disturbing a gravesite for fun. though the company does research, these guys werent down there to conduct research, they were there so they could brag about it to their friends. its like “climbing mount everest” while your sherpa does all the work.

if you cant tell, i have a lot of feelings about this. shipwrecks and ocean liners are one of my special interests and im currently building a (beginner’s) model of the titanic, for fucks sake. but i would never go down to see that wreck because its a fucking gravesite and we should not be disturbing their final resting place.

[madschiavelique]

﹒ ✦ 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐈𝐍𝐊 : 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑 — 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

✦﹒ 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 : your first day spent in Demacia doesn't bring out the best of you.

✦﹒ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : angst. like pull out the tissues angst. no comfort. also some flirting shit? oh and tension. a good meal overall i hope

✦﹒ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 8,2k

✦﹒ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : okay so i'm trying to survive classes and i tried writing this baby during the week while on the metro. it's quite a pain in the heart but hey dw it'll get better i promise.

✦﹒ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐘 : the pretty boy @oneoftheextras

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓．．𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐃 ．．𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓．．𝐌𝐘 𝐊𝐎-𝐅𝐈

The short journey to your place of residence prepared for the students had been deeply unbearable.

Demacians seemed to have a majority of water-related transport. You weren't really surprised, given that Demacia was known for its beaches and its inextricable links with the water that surrounded it for trade and tourism.

However, after that rather short night in a bed that wasn't very pleasant, you would have liked to have had a moment to settle down and enjoy a brief trip in a transport to observe the landscapes.

But walking was unavoidable. A horde of suitcase rollers were catching up on the white flagstones of the streets of the great city of Demacia. 

It was almost impossible to imagine the city as anything other than sunny. Its great white walls seemed incorruptibly pure, the sun bathing the sides of the citadel in resplendent light, while its blue slate domes gleamed in the sunlight like fish scales. 

You expected the city to have a cold atmosphere, an overly wise and tense staticity brought about by the strictness for which it was famous. But the markets were full of colour, crates full of exotic goods with colour combinations you only thought possible on paintings, rich fabrics and tourist attractions of all kinds bundling up in certain streets.

It was a city that combined the marine fluidity of its airs and waters with the formidable stability of its rocks and swords. It was almost impossible not to find a guard at every turn, to the point where it was almost more oppressive than reassuring. The sight of so many passers-by crossing the streets and their safety, however, softened the sensation.

And although you couldn't wait to take a shower and relax, the desire to wander the streets of this new place grew with every step you took. What a thrill it is to explore.

All this could have been superb, of course, if it hadn't been for a single factor that splashed mud all over this first immersion: Fiora.

Clinging to Viktor like a mussel to its rock, she had never stopped monopolising him and imposing her continuity. She pulled Viktor's suitcase like she was pulling a bin bag, pressing herself against him and laughing much more than necessary at every little interjection he made, often punctuating it with "What an interesting thing to say" or "Vikkie you're so funny!"

Vikkie, the nickname made your skin crawl with embarrassment. But what probably bothered you most was the fact that Viktor didn't do anything in particular to stop it. Was he just being polite? Or did he genuinely enjoy her company?

"Yes, she's always like that," Garen finally added with a sigh, his eyes visibly attentive to where yours were resting.

You sighed. "How long have you been handling her?"

He chuckled. "I think we're about to hit the second year in a row of a dreadfully thorny situation."

"Two years," you huffed, imagining what it would have been like if you and Viktor had carried on with that litter of stupid nemeses for so long.

"Yes ma'am," Garen nodded, himself seeming slightly surprised by this realisation.

"And has it always been like this?" 

"It gets worse when new things arrive and she wants said new things," he informed. "She needs to have her hands on the new, shiny toy."

"Is she a princess?" you questioned.

"Akin," Garen's gaze rested tiredly on Fiora's figure, raising his eyebrows, "she is the heir to one of the biggest families of Demacia."

"Damn," you whispered. "And she bites, I take it?"

"She is a fierce duellist, best one around here," grimaced Garen. "I wouldn't advise making any waves or tormenting her, she has a tendency to start useless gossip behind your back."

You nodded, taking in the information Garen had so graciously given you. "Crowns have strange effects on the heads they adorn."

He nodded, obviously finding your words accurate.

It didn't take you long to arrive at a building of at least six storeys, seemingly the same length as the point separating Zaun from Piltover and as wide as the length of The Young Prince. 

What had struck you so far was the geometry of the city. All the architecture of its streets was millimetre-perfect, everything mirroring each other almost impossibly perfectly like a surface on clear water. Arches of white stone criss-crossed in the air, no pillar was odd, and even the clothes of the residents were surgically symmetrical. It was almost disconcerting.

"The Hôtel Félixérie has graciously approved your accommodation as part of your stay," informed Madame Diane, turning to the group of students. "We'll leave you to drop off your belongings and take a moment to relax and get to know your room-mates a little better."

You'd imagined that the dormitories would be paired up again, and you'd probably expected the Piltover students to be with each other once more. However, Diane interrupted this train of thought.

"For fairly obvious reasons, the rooms will not be mixed. If your duos involve sex and gender differences, we will assign you to different rooms."

Their restrictions were totally acceptable, however, if the little gears in your brain weren't wrong, a terrible revelation took over.

You would have to share your room with Fiora.

You turned towards her, the latter already looking at you like a vermin to be eradicated, or the most useless thing this earth could have borne.

"Come forward, so we can allocate your rooms and take it into consideration."

So the group of students moved towards the teachers, your quartet staying back, Garen following to collect your room numbers. You reached Fiora, who was about your height, if perhaps a little shorter - which didn't stop her looking down on you for anything in the world.

So you watched her stature, her arm still firmly wrapped around Viktor.

You chuckled, observing the situation. "Are you going to sleep with him like he's your teddy bear? Or are you big enough to sleep without one."

Viktor turned to you, half surprised and half grateful. She arched an eyebrow at you, blowing out a laugh from her nose. "Scared of a child?"

"I'm not as spoiled of a kid as you," you replied.

"What is the ugly little thing saying?" she questioned.

"She's saying that you've got looks, and money," you remarked, "one of them is bound to run out."

She gave you a petty little smile. "Guess I'm rich in all cases. I still have twice more than you own."

"And twice more to lose," you pointed out, frowning, "and I don't lose."

She giggled, her upper lip rising in frustration. "So confident."

Your eyes looked her up and down, two thin slits under your eyebrows. "So ignorant."

"Viktor?" inquired Garen to cut short this obviously mindless discussion once he'd come back. "We're sharing the same room, do you need help with your belongings?"

The Zaunite's suitcase was still in Fiora's hand. She said nothing, ignoring you as she straightened her chin and let go of Viktor's arm as well as his luggage, exchanging a glance with Garen who seemed impassive to her attitude.

Viktor exchanged glances with you and then Garen. "No need," he confirmed politely.

"Alright," smiled Garen, turning to your little group, "we're all on the ground floor. Room 020 for Viktor and me, room 021 for you two,’ he explained as he handed you your keys, Fiora not even unlocking her arms from her chest to take the ones Garen was handing her.

"As if I was to share my room with someone like you," Fiora almost choked out.

"At least something we agree on," you breathed before pulling your suitcase towards the building.

You had only one thing on your mind: taking a shower and putting on clean clothes. Demacia had a warmer climate than Piltover, and although the sun wasn't high in the sky, the air was already hot, and your walk to the hotel didn't help the feeling.

The interior of the hotel was charming, managing to bring warmth to its ambience despite its cold bluish tones. It didn't take you long to find your room, shoving the key into the lock more hastily than you would have liked.

You pulled your suitcase onto a tiled floor with hexagonal stones alternating royal blue and creamy white, two thick beds next to each other already making you regret coming here just from the perspective of who would take the second one. You placed your suitcase on the side of the bed you'd settled on taking, removing your coat, which was already far too warm for your back and shoulders.

There was a knock at the door, and you turned to see Garen, his stature taking up almost all the light in the corridor in the silhouette of the door.

"Got the word from Madame Lolanthe," he began, "the Piltover students get a one hour break in their rooms before we come back to get you ready for the Academy visit."

"Okay," you nodded, getting rid of your scarf, "thank you for telling me."

"No problem," he smiled, leaning against the doorway, "You hold up to her well."

"Hold up to her?" you repeated, almost confused.

"That talk about the looks, and the money," he noted, "I know who's words I'll repeat whenever she gets on my nerves again."

You smiled. "One will buy you sympathy, the other will buy you the rest. Unfortunate that with her great wealth she can't buy me," you sighed, folding your scarf to lay it on the corner of your bed. "She doesn't seem to like it very much."

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "That's because she's never had someone come on her territory and impose themselves so easily."

You arched an eyebrow, a small sneer tugging at the corner of your lips. "I'm imposing?"

He chuckled. "To her? She won't ever admit it, but you're terrifying."

"And to you?" you questioned, "Am I any threat to the sublime of a Demacian student like you?"

He considered you for a moment. "That remains to be seen."

You smiled at him one more time, placing your suitcase on your bed to open it. 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to engage in verbal fencing with you. So far at least you've given me no reason to do so," you explained as you took out your toiletries.

"I shall do everything in my power for it to remain as such," he confirmed, placing his hand on his chest solemnly and bowing his head slightly. "I'll leave you to your rest, see you in an hour."

"See you in an hour," you repeated simply as he disappeared from the doorway. 

He reminded you of Jayce, but wiser, more chivalrous than naive, more observant than questioning.

So you finally grabbed some new clothes and headed for the second room in your bedroom, which was undoubtedly the bathroom. Were you all so stinky that the Demacians urged you to shower at all costs? It would have been funny, an unnecessary rivalry in a programme that encouraged the exact opposite.

The bathroom was an elegant composition of blue, white and pearly grey mosaics. Two wash basins carved from rough white stone stood next to each other in front of a large oval horizontal mirror. In the corner to your left was the toilet, and in the corner to your right was the ivory-white bathtub.

You were almost tempted to pick up your suitcase and put it in the bathroom with you while you showered, just to make sure that the bratty Fiora didn't come poking around in it or doing anything stupid.

After all, in your belongings was an object that could potentially get you into a lot of trouble here if it were found: your tarot deck.

Demacia's little worry in this instance was a deep-seated aversion to magic and all that surrounds it. Who wouldn't be when the history of its people was rooted in magical wars and the terror that ensued? Petricite, the material from which their protection came from the trees of their forests, was undoubtedly in abundance in the walls surrounding you. It was almost oppressive, as if the air were less breathable, more contained than ever in a box.

You stripped off your clothes and slipped under the water, which must also have been filtered specifically for petricite. It seemed almost dry, leaving an unpleasantly light sensation on your skin as you soaped yourself up almost furiously.

Your thoughts returned to your Tarot deck. You just hoped that the energies wouldn't affect it, and that you wouldn't be caught red-handed. You would have to be discreet about this activity, however naive, to avoid any lightning strikes.

You took your time to prepare yourself. You put on some simple clothes for the rest of the day, something comfortable enough to move around in and not suffer from the heat, and rearranged your suitcase, making sure you looked perfectly presentable.

You left your room after slipping your suitcase under your bed, knocking on the door of your comrade to whom you hadn't been able to speak since you set foot on Demacian soil.

"Come in," answered the familiar accent behind the door.

You turned the handle, opening the door to find Viktor sitting on one of the two beds. He seemed to be busy placing a particular mechanism on his bad leg, a strap running from his lower thigh to the sole of his shoe. He was bent over, arranging a sort of screw-on part on the side of his knee.

The system seemed to be complex, an orthopaedic support made of metal and leather for better stability, no doubt, in the same way that corsets were worn for scoliosis.

You'd never seen him wear it before.

"Is it in preparation for the walk we're about to go on?" you questioned.

He sighed heavily, rearranging a belt against his thigh and trying to smooth the creases in his trousers under the pressure. "Mademoiselle Laurent's brisk walk doesn't seem to have been very kind," he raised his amber gaze to yours, "I fear the upcoming days might be more difficult than what I expected."

You sighed, taking a step forward into the bedroom. "Yeah," you nodded, "not sure how I will handle the whole Fiora thing... At least Garen's nice so far."

His eyes moved from yours to his thigh again, tightening another bolt. "Mhm."

"You guys got cool rooms!" Jayce's voice made you turn towards him, coming from the other end of the corridor, poking his head through the doorways. "Ours is all..." he grimaced, his eyes crinkling as his upper lip lifted to the side, "green."

"Got something against the green of nature, Talis?" you remarked, arching an eyebrow.

"Absolutely not!" he snapped, raising his hands in the air to clear his throat. "It's just that ours is... ugly."

"Do you miss the gold of Piltover already?"

"A bit."

"Have the Kirammans changed you so much? Unless... has Mel got you used to luxury?"

"I-" he almost choked, but before he could pull himself together and resume his sentence, he frowned, mouth open. His eyes flicked to a point in the void before turning to Viktor, with whom he exchanged a glance. "Do you think what she thinks?"

Viktor breathed in, holding his breath for a moment before shrugging his shoulders and sighing in agreement. Jayce looked like he'd been punched in the stomach.

"Am I... a high-class hooker?"

You grinned, putting your hand on his shoulder and patting it. "I think there are worse realisations in life than this."

"True, but... how do you know for sure."

"It's not a wildly complex diagnosis," Viktor remarked as he grabbed his cane and straightened up. "First the bottles of champagne with more than one zero."

"Then the petits fours," you pointed out.

"And the new shirts piling up in the dressing room..." Viktor continued.

"Fine!" stopped Jayce. ‘Fine, I see your point,’ he straightened up, trying to puff out his chest as he pretended to deconstruct the image you'd given him, sighing in vain as he watched you with plaintive eyes, "this is so bad isn't it?"

"It's the end of the world," you grinned.

Viktor shook his head, playing disappointment. "What happened to my work partner?"

"Hey!" squeaked Jayce.

Viktor turned to you. "Did you know he leaves the apartments three nights out of four to go see Mel?"

"What?" Your mouth opened in a terrible mock shock as you put your hand to your chest comically, "that's heartbreaking."

"I know," sighed Viktor dramatically, "I end up starring at the pile of his new shirts in the corner while I kill myself on work."

"Jayce," you huffed, "how could you?"

"Stop this! You two!" begged Jayce.

You finally smiled and gave up the act. "Relax, gold suits you anyway."

"You guys are the worst," grumbled Jayce as you and Viktor exchanged playful glances.

You headed out of the hotel, meeting up with Sky who instantly came over to you.

"That Fiora's already got you in her sights," she muttered.

You sighed, looking around as if to see if she was spying on you, but if she was, she wasn't within earshot. "I know, it's like I'm attracting them all like a magnet. Let's hope it doesn't last any longer than that, otherwise this trip may quickly be robbed of its holiday quality."

When the rest hour came to an end, Madame Diane finally showed up again an exact hour as the time she had left you. Their organisation was finely measured, timed and unforgivable.

Fiora couldn't help but regain her position as the cling-on next to Viktor.

"Pulled out your fanciest shoes for me?" she giggled as her eyes roamed Viktor's aid.

He sighed, "If I have to keep up with you, this is more than needed."

She gave you a dark look, though it was different from the one she'd previously thrown at you so far. There was a sort of flash of malice, an unpleasant aspect of that of a chess player with a sick and evil strategy.

You took no further notice as the walk to the Demacian Academy began.

You passed various buildings, Diane telling you a few little facts about the history of the streets and specific places. Jayce made comments here and there.

"How do they build such edifices?" he asked, amazed by the city's architecture and its intricacies.

"By piling stones on top of each other," you replied, Garen smiling beside you, your eyes witnessing Viktor's cheekbones rising at your remark from your view of his back.

You finally reached the Demacia Academy. Its campus formed a pile of wings of buildings of varying sizes and architecture. 

"Each study environment," as Madame Diane pointed out as you walked through the Academy's gardens, "is separated into its own buildings. We are privileged and proud to be able to welcome all kinds of cultures and knowledge within our walls. Humanities, Engineering, Art, all forms of wisdom are welcomed without any hierarchy."

Your eyes roamed over the bluish domed roofs, wondering if from the inside these same tiles covered all the light or if their material was transparent like sunglasses.

"A single point joins the students who wish it," she raised her long index finger in the air, pointing to the sky as if the almighty sky bequeathed to her every truth about the globe.

Garen pressed his palm against your shoulder, your eyes resting on it as he whispered into your ear.

"See over there?" the index finger of his hand on your shoulder, seemingly engulfing you by its size, pointed in a direction you followed.

"Mhm?" you hummed, observing a flat area that wasn't concreted over and seemed to be covered in a long, black, loose carpet.

"That's the training area," his warm breath brushed against your ear, "me and Fiora meet there every morning."

"We want our students to stay healthy and to help each other," Diane recited aloud.

Garen huffed, continuing to murmur. "If you'd like to see her lose eventually, this is where the show's at."

"Lose?" you repeated in a whisper, your eyes drifting to Fiora next to Viktor, who just seemed to have turned his head away.

"Mhm," said Garen before straightening up and letting go of your shoulder, "I've heard that it's something you don't do."

You smiled, a little laughy breath escaping from your lungs. 

"Thus, we have a training area dedicated to this," Diane continued, "our students can go there whenever they like, it's a free field. Now, if you don't mind, we're going to continue..."

But you could barely register another sentence at the moment, your eyebrows furrowing as you began to move forward with the rest of the group. 

One thought remained in your mind, however. Something that had struck you suddenly, something that surprised you more than you would have thought: not a shiver had been born under Garen's breath on your skin.

It was strange, not a single hair standing on end, no heat rising to your cheeks. Nothing. 

It was only when the memory of Viktor's breath hit the back of your neck that it began to heat up.

You tried to pull yourself together, to ignore this information, and to ignore the warm sensation in your stomach as your eyes found Viktor's combed brown locks.

It's probably nothing,’ you tried to convince yourself.

The rest of the day passed pleasantly, exploring the library and some of the historic sites on campus. You had eaten in a charming restaurant near the hotel, while the Demacian students returned to their cafeterias and afternoon classes and Heimerdinger gave you a lesson on Demacia. He had preferred to postpone his lessons on Demacia to save them for the trip, for a better immersion and to truly submerge you in his lessons.

Fiora was glued to Viktor like a leech, as if when he let go of her arm he was going to fall face first onto the pavement. She kept sending you these petty little smiles, and you kept giving her a deeply neutral expression.

The night came earlier than expected, and you dreaded the idea of having to share this room, which was supposed to be so pure and perfect, with an oddball like her.

You were already strangely regretting the night you'd spent with Viktor. Admittedly, you hadn't always had the best of times when you were forced into close proximity, but that didn't detract from the fact that you had common ground and mutual respect.

Up until now, Fiora hadn't earned your respect.

And to your surprise, as the hours passed and you read in bed, she never came.

Many thoughts raced through your mind, tirelessly changing subjects and possibilities.

Was she with Viktor? you wondered.

No, Garen and Viktor went to bed together.

So where is the viper? Perhaps it's in its burrow, at home in who knows which grand Demacian mansion, in a bed with silk sheets and canopied curtains. Madame's sleep must not be damaged or altered in any way.

And that breath on your skin, that hadn't done anything to you? Why did it?

Sleep overtook you quickly though, overpowering your fiery spirit, Demacia's jet lag catching up with you faster than you thought possible.

When you awoke, it was early enough in the morning that the horizon was still a gradation of night leading towards the bright pearl of the sun. Your eyes found Fiora's bed empty and perfectly tucked in just as you had found it.

You took advantage of the fact that the city was still a little asleep to get out your tarot deck. You knocked on both sides, hoping to release whatever energy the petricite could have brought.

You performed your usual little ritual, and the card of the day turned out to be the five of swords. The little booklet provided you with the following information: 

Cruelty. Think about your actions and words. False accusations. Cowardice. Inflated ego at the expense of others. Taking advantage of others.

This is a warning card that reminds you of the power of your words and actions. An argument has ended and there is a winner, a loser, and a mediator. Who do you identify with on this card? Which character represents you at this precise moment? If you don't recognise yourself in this card, who or what does it remind you of? What lessons can you learn from this image?

You were sighing, an argument? It was probably because of yesterday with Fiora, because of what you had to learn from it.

So you got ready for the day, looking forward to meeting Garen on that famous training area. You had discussed the time at which him and the pretentious one would meet, deciding to join them a little later to let them do their training but above all to go there with a small group of students who intended to visit more of the university with their Demacian duos.

The days were to be split in two. In the morning, the Demacian students would be in class, while the Piltovian students would have their history lessons with Heimerdinger. The afternoons would be devoted to visiting Demacia, its monuments, museums and so on.

So you went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. There you met Viktor and Jayce, sharing their table. You helped yourself to the buffet in this luxury self-service restaurant before coming over to them.

"Good morning," greeted Viktor, sipping his coffee as his eyes were riveted on what appeared to be the local newspaper.

"Morning," you replied as you sat down at their table.

"You know," Jayce began with his mouth full, "I'm not usually a fan of switching foods but," he twitched his nose as he chewed energetically, "I gotta hand it to them, it's really good."

"You would eat flowers if they were edible," you remarked before bringing your own breakfast to your lips, nodding at the taste, though.

"Ah ha! See?" Jayce remarked at your expression.

You shrugged. "Not bad."

Actually, what you were chewing was delicious, but it wasn't hard to reach that level given your diet of mostly simple pasta and stir-fry in your flat.

"Come on," Jayce tried, turning to Viktor, "their coffee's good too."

The questioned man abandoned his reading of the newspaper, taking in hand a pastry covered in icing sugar. "I'll admit that it's not bad."

"Not bad?" you remarked, arching an eyebrow. "Better than mine?"

He chuckled. "Not possible."

You nodded. "Huh, I guess I'll just have to check for myself," you remarked, pressing your palm against the table as you prepared to get up and help yourself to the drink area.

"You can just drink from mine," suggested Viktor.

The pressure of your weight on your palm eased, turning your head towards him. "From yours?"

He watched you for a moment, then picked up his cup and placed it in front of you. "I don't know if I'll be able to finish it in one go," his back found the back of the seat, "so, we can share."

You considered the mug for a moment, observing the ring of foam that had dried and marked the inside of the cup, waiting to be drunk. It seemed sweet, like what Viktor used to drink.

You curled your fingers around its handle, the round, slightly flattened cup feeling pleasantly heavy in your hand. You brought it to your lips, blowing gently on its contents and noticing the previous mark of the sip Viktor had taken.

Your glance met his, moving from your mouth to your eyes, your lips resting where his had been moments before, before you took a sip without your gaze ever leaving each other's. 

His jaw seemed to tense for a moment as your tongue passed over your lower lip to catch the last few drops of coffee before placing the cup back on the table.

You nodded, raising your eyebrows. "Not bad."

Viktor's amber eyes had a strange blackness in them, pierced by a dark glint you couldn't make out that brought more warmth to your cheeks and neck than the coffee.

"I told you!" Jayce exclaimed, bringing you back to reality almost brutally.

What was going on? Why was the air suddenly so thick and tense?

Your eyes lowered to your breakfast, taking a small bite as you returned to Viktor gently through your eyelashes. His gaze was still on you, his long, slender fingers wrapping around the waist of the cup and bringing it to his mouth.

His eyes lit up with a strange satisfaction as your lips parted and his came to rest where yours had been only seconds ago. 

Your heart leapt in your chest as you engulfed your entire meal in one mouthful, preferring to find an excuse like this to the suffocation you were beginning to feel from the pounding of your heart against your ribs, which were suddenly too narrow to contain it.

Viktor looked at you, as surprised as he was amused by the suddenness of this behaviour.

"You look nervous," Jayce pointed out, "are you alright?"

You met his gaze, your eyes drifting over Viktor's for a moment as you swallowed your mouthful with difficulty. Quick, an excuse, or something.

"I'm going to try and train with the Demacian students," you explained.

Jayce's eyebrows rose, Viktor's frowned.

"You're about to try and train with them?" the taller one repeated, wiping the crumbs from his sweet tooth with the back of his hand, "the same students that have a training area and some of the best fighters in all Runeterra?"

You stuffed your mouth with another part of your breakfast, trying to take some strength for what would await. "Yes."

Breakfast continued simply until you finally decided to go to the Academy campus. The sun was higher in the sky, already warm as you made your way to the training ground.

A group of students were occupying various parts of the large area, a variety of wooden weapons clashing against each other in a waltz of energetic movements and grunts.

The small group of Piltovian students approached this area, some coming to meet up with their duet mates, others standing back to observe the scene.

You finally caught sight of Garen, busy at the moment against a mannequin, his stature seeming even more imposing that way. Dressed in a navy blue t-shirt with sweat stains on the collar and back, baggy black trousers and combat boots, he looked perfectly military.

When he met your eyes, he smiled at you, indicating with his fingers that you should come closer. You pointed your index finger at yourself, exchanging glances with Jayce and then Viktor.

"Don't look at me," the latter pointed out, "if I've got any place on this field it's as a training dummy."

You shrugged. "I'm sure you'd make an amazing fencer with your cane," you said before stepping forward when Garen came your way.

You reached him on the pitch, the feel of the ground softer and smoother than you would have thought. No doubt to reduce the damage of falls, which were bound to be numerous around here.

"Good morning," Garen greeted you when you reached him.

"Good morning," you pressed your lips into a thin line. "I think by coming here I've voluntarily signed my death warrant."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," he confirmed in a soft laugh, starting to move forward.

"Fiora isn't here?" you questioned, anxiously.

"She went ahead to get herself some water, she'll be back soon," he explained.

"Hope she takes her time," you sighed, "I'd like to... try training."

He turned to you in surprise. "Try training?"

"Mhm," you confirmed, "gotta get the full experience of this trip, I guess?"

He chuckled, nodding finally. "Alright, what would you like to try?"

"What's on the menu for bruises and sore muscles today?" 

"Hmm," he glanced at the few remaining wooden weapons, "let us try with a staff."

Your eyes followed his gaze, settling on one of the weapon bearers. A row of quarterstaffs was there, waiting to be retrieved. 

Fighting with wands, the joke was almost ridiculously simple if you thought back to the five of wands.

He picked one up, throwing it at you as you caught it in the air.

"Good reflexes," he remarked as he took one in turn, "it's going to be needed." He twirled the staff in his hand with ease, positioning himself in front of you. "Show me what you know."

You had distant memories of using a staff, of parrying, of attacking, even if you weren't an expert and wasn’t sure about your capacity on bringing them back to life.

You had to get it into your head that you weren't there to win, but to learn, to take in new information and rediscover what it meant to learn through interest rather than obligation.

You described a swing in the air, the wood hissing as Garen easily parried the blow, coming into your game. All he had to do was push a little harder against you so that the pressure made you tilt your balance and he took advantage of it to try a blow that you still managed to parry before stepping back and almost losing your balance.

"You're smaller than me, and probably faster," commented Garen, "use it to your advantage."

"How am I supposed to do that?" you questioned, tightening your grip around your staff in the hope that your muscle memory would do the job.

Garen repositioned himself, smiling slightly. "Surprise me."

You chuckled, tapping the tip of your stick on the ground twice before repositioning yourself, bending your knees and tensing your shoulders.

You trotted towards him a little, raising your staff in the air before deviating and giving a kick with your foot on his at the last moment to shift the balance. His grip was firmer on it than you thought, but the blow was enough to divert his attention to the gesture and you drove your stick into his foot, causing him to grunt as you tried to go around him to hit the back of his knees.

Realising your trick though, he changed his stance, pivoting towards you and swinging an arc through the air that you stepped back from in time, dodging his next blow by placing your palm on his staff to squeeze it and pull it towards you to bring him down.

But his weight of muscle won out over yours, so he used your initial idea to his advantage by pulling you towards him until your back was against his chest and he was holding his staff under your chin.

You felt his warm chest under the fabric of his T-shirt, his chest expanding and sinking against you as you felt the wood of his staff push your chin up until your eyes met his. He huffed, cracking a smile.

"You did good," he breathed, cracking a smile before the grip on your chin eased and he released you.

You took a step forward, turning to face him. "Just good?"

"Not satisfied with good?" he pointed out.

"No," you chuckled as you grabbed your staff with both hands, ready to attack again.

He smiled, changing position again. "Then do better, Piltie girl."

"Would you look at that?"

Your eyes rolled heavenward as you recognised this insufferable voice and turned to Fiora.

She was wearing a uniform similar to that of Garen. A dark plum turtleneck t-shirt with short sleeves, trousers less wide than Garen's, and perfectly polished boots.

She was equipped with her most mocking smile. "How did you end up here?"

You shrugged, letting one hand fall away from the staff before your arm dropped to your side. "I thought I'd come here for a holiday camp, but too bad the activities and organisers aren't great."

She giggled, her eyebrows arching as she turned to the remaining staff to pick one up. Some students stopped practising, observing the scene. Fiora undoubtedly had her own little reputation which she maintained proudly, and to see someone standing up to her must have been a novelty for many.

"Let's see what you're made of," she said, putting herself on guard against you.

You sighed. "I don't want to fight you," you remarked as you moved towards the receptacle to lay down your weapon.

But she prevented you from doing so by sending it flying further away from a single hit. You glared at her.

Her smile was evil, her eyebrows low over vicious eyes. "You're gonna have to pick it up if you want to put it back there."

"Fiora," Garen warned, "stop."

"It's fine," you assured him, watching Fiora's face change between satisfaction and impatience.

You knew she was trying to push you, to build up your frustration to get a reaction out of you. You didn't want to give her the pleasure.

You breathed a sigh, walking over to the staff on the ground before picking it up. But as you turned, you barely had time to reflexively place the staff in front of your face as a parry.

Fiora had just tried to attack you, and violently at that.

"Fight," she insisted as you took a step backwards. "Don't they teach you how to fight in Piltover?"

You huffed, trying to get round her as she circled after you like a predator around its prey. "Guess we swapped war for intellect," you pointed out, feeling more in the mood for a verbal joust than a physical one, "I can see how the lack of it is visibly affecting you."

Fiora frowned, pointing the end of her staff at you. "What did you just say?"

You smiled, getting caught up in the game. "Do I have to repeat it for you? Or break it down into digestible pieces for your little brain?"

She grunted before drawing rapid attacks in the air that you managed to parry and avoid until you crossed the wood and found yourselves close. 

"You are so lacking in intelligence that neither education nor experience has helped you to fill this gap in your nature," you taught her.

She punched you in the stomach before hitting you in the thigh with her staff, forcing you to your knees. You felt the tip of her staff under your chin, firm and raw as she looked down at you.

"Look at who's kneeling before me," she sneered as she exchanged smiles with the surrounding students.

You didn't let her get to you though. "Simply tying my shoes, your majesty."

The nickname seemed to irritate her in a less visible way than the others, but you could still make out the little muscle near her eye tense up.

She offered a simple blow of her nose in laughter, leaving you on the ground as her stick dislodged itself from your chin.

She then turned to her audience, rounding on you. ‘What a fierce little thing she is, isn't she?’ she quizzed.

You turned towards her, straightening up as you frowned.

"By your words I believe you called me ignorant, so I did a bit of digging." She wore a smile that was about to cause some serious errors. "You will be surprised to learn that," she turned to you with a wicked smile, "she's an orphan."

Your lips parted as your chest began to tighten in anger, the other students around you all glaring at you like a freak show.

"No one ever wanted her," Fiora went on as if she were presenting a tragic two-bit story, "until she got taken in by pity."

You wanted to rip her tongue out. How could she know? How dare she put it out there for everyone to see?

She hovered around you, addressing her audience to paint a pitiful picture. 

"Got a failure? Get another for half the price!" She sneered as she described dramatic gestures of demonstration, calming down on the theatrical though as she turned back to you, eyes half-closed with pretense and pointing at you with her staff. "So now," she resumed, tone condescending, "she tries to remove that tag off herself by being first everywhere!" She turned to the other pupils as if they were little children learning a lesson. 

Your knuckles had turned white from squeezing your fists so tight, your breathing quickening as your anger built.

She turned to face you. "As if that was going to change her nature."

"That's enough!" Garen growled as he approached her.

"What's wrong? I am simply stating facts," Fiora pointed out falsely, innocently.

Their conversation faded from your mind, however, as your frustration rose inside you. 

Who was it? Who was it that could have given her this information?

There were only three people who knew about this matter. Only three. Jayce, Sky...

And Viktor.

Viktor, who had spent his time in Fiora's company, who was always glued to his arm, who had had to give in to the fatigue and frustration of her questions by answering her about you while she was scheming against you.

There was only him.

Your body seemed to you like a suit of armour in a garden of white statues of purity, where the ruby-red roses of anger were allowed to overtake the metal covering your rage.

Clad in armour. 

Ready.

"You said you wanted to fight?" 

Your voice echoed through the air louder than you could have imagined, but loud enough that all heads turned towards you. Fiora smiled, having finally achieved her goal.

"You've changed your mind?"

"Yes." Your tone was firm, rigid.

"That is most delightful to hear," Fiora smiled, turning to her audience and raising her arms before regaining your gaze, "I'll even do you the honour of choosing your weapon."

"No weapons."

Your whole body tensed, your fingers twitching as your muscles seemed to prepare themselves for what was about to happen.

Fiora raised her eyebrows. "Fists? How barbaric.’

"Scared your fancy manicure can't handle it?"

It was asking everything in your power not to let your voice explode in the air, to remain calm and articulate.

All the same, Fiora seemed fascinated by your determination to continue to stand up to her, to refuse to give up, to abandon in the face of her.

"Careful Fiora," shouted one of the students, "I've heard she's a witch."

Had she finally infiltrated your room? Looked through your things while you were asleep? Or had she managed to hear about Selene and had already started to do her viper's work of spreading rumours? Either way, she was already on to you.

"Glad to know we're on the right territory to get rid of this kind of waste," smiled Fiora.

"You can't beat me," you put the staff back in its receptacle, moving away again to get ready, "only one person gets to have that honour."

Your eyes landed on Viktor, who was watching the scene with furrowed brows.

You readied your breath, stopping your heart from getting too big in your chest as your legs prepared to hold your balance.

"So eager," Fiora sighed with a stupid grin, stepping forward to place her staff, "I didn't know you would-"

But as soon as the staff was placed, your knuckles made hard contact with her cheek, sending her to the ground.

A wave of shocked murmurs took over the crowd as you stood, eyes lowered on Fiora as she leaned back to straighten herself on the floor, her perfectly smooth fringes slightly dishevelled revealing her wide eyes as she brought her palm to her cheek still warm from the blow.

"Get up," your voice was cold, trying to remain unwavering while your fist trembled. "You said you wanted a fight, so," your lips were full of rage, "fight."

Fiora snarled, springing to her feet and running at you with the breath of a bull seeing red. She tried to land a blow on your face to return the favour, but you dodged it and punched her in the stomach, her curling up as you grabbed her hair and she started screaming.

"You fucking bitch!" she cried.

She slapped you on the shoulder and you let go, throat rocky with wrath. "Yell at me again and I'll give you a proper reason to scream."

There was a dangerous growl in your voice, a grinding of a gear powering an old machine that was starting up again.

She came back at you, landing a blow on your leg in the hope of making you kneel again, but she was only marginally successful. She hit you in the jaw, causing you to back away slightly, before delivering a second blow to the cheekbone.

You didn't give her the honour of adding a third strike, offering her a violent punch in the throat that took her backwards as you took a slight leap and slammed your hand hard into her face, her grabbing your clothes and dragging you backwards as she fell.

Sitting on her abdomen, your two knees blocked her arms as you gained free reign over her guard.

You hit her once, twice, thrice, her cheek beginning to swell. Your blows increased in intensity, the tension in your fist not stopping you even if the bones in your hand broke.

"Stop this!" 

Two thick arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you out with difficulty as you struggled in vain.

Garen pulled you away from the body of Fiora, who had turned to spit a cloud of bloody spray onto the floor. Your eyes never let go of her, as if you were obsessed with your real aim of seeing her admit defeat.

"You," you snapped at her, regaining some calmness though, "you're the one that started spreading gossip about me behind my back aren't you?"

Fiora turned to you, breathless. "What?" Her voice was hoarse from your blow.

"Don't make me repeat myself," you threatened, fully aware that you hadn't hit any of her eardrums and that she could understand you perfectly well.

She breathed heavily. "Why does it matter?"

You approached slightly, fists still clenched as you watched her on the floor, pathetic.

"Just wanted to make sure you knew your place."

Fiora shook off the hands of the students who had just tried to help her off ofto the floor, her furious eyes finding you as she struggled to get to her feet.

You realised the extent of the damage your fury, your uncontrollable anger, had done. Fiora's face was red, one of her eyelids bulging as blood poured from her nose, joining the red on her lips and gums.

You could have gone on, made things worse. Who knows how far you could have gone? What irreversible damage you could have caused? What life you could have taken in your own anger?

The realisation hit you like an anvil.

Your eyes roamed the crowd, the faces of the frightened students.

I... I did this? you thought.

I made them look at me with... fear?

Your eyes found Fiora still on the ground, grunting in pain and coughing.

Monster.

That's all you were. A being incapable of overcoming the violence that had nourished her, of abandoning the bosom of this bitter mother who had cuddled her so much and made her grow.

Your gaze wandered over the rest of the pupils, until it met his.

Viktor's face was shocked.

No, please...

His lips were parted and his eyes wide as you felt your hands impossibly sticky with the hot blood they had spilled.

Please, don't look at me like that... Your heart was trembling. 

Not you.

You had to get out of here.

Hands clasped to your sides, you strode across the pitch, the few students even two metres away from you moving away as you passed.

I made them like this. Although this thought might have given some people a feeling of pride and power, you couldn't help but feel covered in a terrible shame.

You couldn't meet anyone's eyes as you made your way to the nearest water source, away from any eyes.

You turned the crank on a fountain to turn it on, your breath quickening with anxiety.

I have to get this off me.

You ran your hands frantically under the water, rubbing the reddened skin of your knuckles and trying to get rid of the blood that was already starting to dry.

You returned to the handle as the water subsided, your hand coming into contact with the blood you'd left behind when you turned it the first time.

You make everything dirty. Everywhere you go there will be blood if you go on.

You swallowed a sob as you tried to clean the crank and your hands again.

But nothing would wash the feeling away. Nothing could extinguish the fire still burning in your fingertips. Nothing could make you forget the warm, slimy sensation of the pain you'd committed, of the violence at the edge of your skin.

It's what you're made of.

You sat against the wall, banging both wet fists against your skull as if that would stop those thoughts from ruling your mind.

And he'd seen you. He saw you like this. Your violence coming to life before his eyes, reflected in an indecipherable Iris.

You put your head between your knees, tried to take a deep breath before you got up, your legs weak and trembling as you made your way back to the hotel.

Stupid, stupid crown.

✦﹒ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt @enoojnij @stilinskisensation @emlovesya @soupsaurus @luvreadingfics @the-valars-sapphire @solbringer @adorabluesposts @pxszels @nerolovesseongjiyuk @cyberwears @cryptidcut @seohaepeachyun @danielsbackupglasses @2hiigh2cry @16novvs @cicadastoner @patchs-curiosity-corneriosity-corner @w41k3r-94290 @minniiv @roku907 @lumilarity @peachy-writings @disturbyn @ddandelionfluff @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @notyuralycat @glenn-slayer @k07ume @hexb0nes @ravngers @fushirika @glenn-slayer @watergirl13girl @graveyardtrain @theuclid

[carionto]

Humans really like space wildlife

As Humanity integrates itself within the Galactic Coalition ever further, trade and travel between Sol and neighboring member systems is growing at exponential rates. In particular, their interest in the native wildlife of other planets is the most widely expanding sector for tourism and commerce.

Even though it is also the most heavily regulated and restricted one, Humans, who typically display a desire to subvert the normal procedures to expedite any process they can, for this they are surprisingly willing and eager to fill in all the necessary paperwork and spend hours upon days making sure they follow and adhere to all the requirements to import some of these creatures.

While such level of determination is not uncommon for new member species who discover a certain non-native creature or something that to the respective natives is commonplace but for them is the pinnacle of exotic, the variety of requests made by Humans is nearly as great as the entire list of known fauna species. And the reasons listed on the forms are even more diverse:

"That's a unicorn! I've always dreamed of having a unicorn and you're telling me there's a dozen subspecies?! Yes, please!!!"

"After reviewing their behavior, this bear-sized fluff-ball is the perfect cat I've always wanted, but couldn't because of allergies. I'll treat them with love and care, my life is incomplete without this fella."

"Tiny. Elephant-duck. Want."

"Our company was looking for a mascot, and these six-legged spindly beaver-crabs are perfect. Here's our mission statement and prepared accommodations for a flock."

"They all said I hallucinated the lizard sasquatch when I was on that acid trip, but now I'll show 'em. It's real. I knew it all along!"

"Aww, these baby puppies are so adorable (referring to the four meter, 800kg Fanged Widowmaker of Abyss Valley predator). My kids were looking through your alien picture books and instantly fell in love with these ones."

And so on. At first we had to reject quite a few, mainly because half of them were deadly beasts from Deathworlds that are almost impossible to capture in the first place. Then the Human officials informed us that, while they will try to stop it from happening, if we don't make importing and adopting even the most dangerous animals in the known Galaxy reasonably possible for them with Human help and expertise in the field, some Humans will set up illegal smuggling rings to "fill the market gap" as they said. Historically, they explained, that causes more problems and expenses than just handling it through official channels.

Reluctantly we were persuaded and have set up a new organization to quell this, apparently, unquenchable Human pack bonding condition. Even if said pet can kill them. We think, as horrible as it may be, that for some that is part of the appeal. Even the ones that breathe out literal poison.

"We'll wear a mask around them. This wendigo-like one is too cute to not get belly rubs."

Said the OFFICIAL Human Representative of a monstrosity that can only be described as the living incarnation of countless teeth, fangs, claws, vivid seizure inducing iridescent feathers, and a body that extends from a inconspicuous ambush pose to a fully 8 meter tall six limbed nightmare machine of Death!

[starfellforyou]

aquarium date ✩⋆｡˚

❛ ༉‧₊˚ featuring: childe, alhaitham, neuvillette, kaveh x gn!reader

❛ ༉‧₊˚ premise: on your first date, you and your new boyfriend visit the aquarium in the city. in tender moments like these, another side to him is revealed...

❛ ༉‧₊˚ genres: fluff, modern au

「 as the ocean is never full of water, so is the heart never full of love. 」

childe suggested going to the aquarium today, and quite enthusiastically at that. you weren't expecting him to be the fish-loving type, but it turns out that he's a prolific ocean connoisseur who seems to be able to answer any and all of your questions about the pretty, exotic sea creatures floating behind the glass. you've never seen him this engrossed in anything before; his eyes twinkling with a youthful light that only ever seems to shine as brightly when he's with you. despite himself, he seems a little shy today, as if he's reluctant to hold your gaze, or your hand - either one. "wow. it's beautiful," you gasp at a glowing blue coral as it catches your attention.

"it is." you might've imagined it, but you're pretty sure he wasn't looking at the coral.

「 you are the only fish in the sea for me. 」

alhaitham was tough to persuade. you've wanted to visit the aquarium for months, but he claimed it's all a ploy for tourism boards to make profits and that any knowledge you seek is readily available in his library. but after seeing you with that look on your face - that look of pure and earnest begging that he would kill for - he had to relent.

his hand in yours, you practically have to drag him through the shimmering tunnels and pathways, a permanent scowl creasing his brows. you're about to give up when, out of the blue, he points to a dumb-looking fish with big, thoughtless eyes and says, "huh. looks like you." you playfully slap him on the arm, the touch of your hand on his skin turning his cheeks a bright shade of red.

「 ocean separates lands, not souls. 」

neuvillette is just glad to be able to spend his day off with you. "surprise me," he dared you, a cheeky expression dancing across his features. it's a rare sight to behold, a stark contrast to the stoic, uptight lawyer you see at work.

he looks peaceful as the two of you stroll down the winding corridors of the aquarium, schools of jellyfish passing you by. a group of tourists attempt to squeeze their way through, prompting his hand to gently push against the small of your back as he brings you closer to the wall. you feel his breath on your ear and begin to count the baby sharks in the exhibit before you.

「 our love is as deep as the ocean. 」

kaveh is a romantic at heart. he may have been frivolous and flighty before he met you, but you know in your heart that his playboy tendencies have all been left in the past. usually, he has a knack for incessant chatter and gossip, as well as the occasional grand profession of love for one of his "bros" that always ends in fits of laughter from everyone in the room. you thought him to be pretentious, boisterous, and brash.

but lately, as you've been spending more time with him, you seem to reveal a special part of his soul that only yours has touched; a protective, sincere kaveh that the crowded aquarium has no effect on. "it feels like we're the only ones here, does it not?" you tell him, beaming. "i rather enjoy being alone with you." and he takes your hand with his.

❛ ༉‧₊˚ author's note: my question is when are we getting a genshin shojo anime and when am i going to be able to live it out for myself

✧ starfellforyou

[damiansgoodgirll]

Heya! Could you do a Damian Priest x fem!reader where they dated in the past and are re-united at Dominiks wedding?

<3

damian priest x reader

one more dance

he recognized you the moment you entered the reception. yes, maybe your hair was a little shorter, but he would recognise you in a room full of people.

he knew you and dom’s wife were friends but he wasn’t expecting to see you at the wedding, not when two days before you posted that you were having a work meeting in london.

that being the reason why you two broke up. you always loved each other but breaking up was the easiest way to get going with your lives and career.

his work as a wrestler meant he was always travelling and even if, at the beginning, you loved travelling with him, it came to a point where you weren’t able to follow him and work at the same time.

you were working in tourism, that meant you were always travelling too.

your schedule wasn’t compatible with his schedule no more. he was always travelling. you were always travelling and no matter how much you loved each other, there was something missing between the two of you.

you missed him having close at night when he was somewhere far away having a show. he missed not being able to call you when you were away because of work.

it just wasn’t working anymore. and it was killing you both. so ending it was the best choice.

but when he saw you wearing that purple short dress, memories came back in an instant. memories of you two being happy, memories of you smiling and laughing at his jokes. memories of how your body was made for his bigger one. memories of how he knew you and your body so well.

and in all honesty, he was missing all of that.

he missed you.

and maybe today was the day he could have his second chance with you.

he approached you carefully.

you saw him coming straight to you so you waved at him “hey” you smiled at him and hugged him.

“hey” he smiled back “you look amazing! how are you doing?”

“oh i’m great, i was in london for a work project but i would have hated myself if i missed the wedding…”you said laughing.

“so, you leaving soon?”

“tomorrow…right after lunch…i honestly can’t wait to come back home tho…pretty tiring project, what about you? you made it far” you said proudly.

you’ve always been proud of him. proud of his achievements. you’ve always been his first supporter and he knew that.

“yes, it’s been going good” he smiled “i can’t believe i got the opportunity to be one of the leads in wwe now…with the judgment day and stuff…it’s been amazing” he smiled at you.

“i knew you would have make it far…punisher…” you joked sipping champagne.

how he missed you calling him like that.

“so…” he wanted, no, he needed to know if you were single, if you were dating but he just didn’t know how to ask you that without sounding rude or noisy “apart from work…how’s life going? any changes in your life?”

“not many…but my sister got a baby” you said smiling. damian and your sister had a pretty good friendship back in time.

“no way…i’m so happy for her! tell her that!”

“i will” you laughed “what about you? anything new? girlfriend? wife? lovers? or are you still living your rockstar life?” you asked.

damian was taken aback from your sudden question.

so you were curious.

“single as you left me” he joked making you laugh, even if you felt a little sorry about that, knowing that he was trying to make it work between the two of you, it was you who were too scared of the possible repercussions and changes, that’s why you broke up with him “are you seeing someone?” he asked.

“no…you know it’s too…complicated …” you smiled “i’ve tried…i had a relationship in the past but it didn’t work…probably i’m not meant to be in a relationship but it’s completely fine, i still have my pretty big house and my mercedes benz” you said, making him chuckle.

but he knew you were lying.

as you were still speaking, the dj put on a romantic ballad, inviting all the couples to dance.

“would you dance with me hermosa? one more dance?” he invited you and you couldn’t say no so you took his hand and let him lead you to the dancefloor.

his hands gently posing on your hips as your hands went behind his back. your head on his chest as you were listening to his soft heartbeat. you tried not to cry because you were missing all of that. you realised how stupid and reckless you’ve been years ago.

“you’re still good at dancing uh?” you smirked at him.

“only because i have the best partner with me right now” he said smiling.

“dam…”

“mh?”

“i’m so sorry” you looked up in his eyes, voice still soft “i’m so sorry for breaking up with you, for hurting you…i never meant to hurt you in the first place dam…i thought…well, i wasn’t really thinking, i was just scared” a tear dropped from your eye and his thumb quickly wiped it away.

“i know hermosa…i know” he smiled.

“you should be mad at me damian…”

“i can’t be mad at you…not when i still love you like the first day we met…i could never be mad at you querida…” he kissed your head.

“i miss all of this…i miss you so much damian”

“i miss you too y/n…” he said softly “we can make it work love…we can do it…but please, if there’s something going on, i need you to talk to me, not to hide and run away…that’s all i’m asking” damian said and you nodded.

“i promise” you smiled.

his lips gently touched yours and you felt your legs all jelly. how you missed him.

on the other side of the room there were dom and juliette watching the two of you together, smirking as their plan worked.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 3/4/2025

my desktop has Kicked It™️🫠 so this is shorter and worse bc it comes from my ailing phone. the tuesdaypost is generally a multi-tab multi-window affair and i completely forgot about the ten-image limit on mobile

listening

i bought this cd months and months ago to fill out the 8 items for $1 sale at my favorite religious thrift shop with the worst vibes, bc i saw the name and thought “oh i like the guy”. i was in fact thinking of nick cave. i would describe this as crunchier than nick cave. also janglier. my most deeply held american trait is that i am a sucker for a song about a road trip.

-

reading

i struck out with Fried Green Tomatoes At The Whistle Stop Cafe bc it made me desperately, desperately miss my maternal grandmother and we simply don’t have time for extra emotion this week.

bad news from the zone tumbleweeds i hated this one too. this is a fourth (!) 1997 printing of the 1992 novel by Claire McNab, Under the Southern Cross. 180p, it’s the same physical quality as all the other Naiad Press softcovers. i did not look up anything about Claire bc copying and pasting shit on my phone is horrendous: however, the frontispiece notes that she lives in LA “for love” and misses Australia. the draw and strong point of this book are the vivid and immersive descriptions of various tourist points down under by someone who really loves the country. it’s an effective travelogue!

The vast, forbidding Australian Outback… the grandeur of Ayers Rock… legendary Alice Springs… the Great Barrier Reef… the primal beauty of Cape Tribulation…

Two women, from different continents, with different values, collide with spectacular results… UNDER THE SOUTHERN CROSS.

American Lee Paynter has built her small travel agency into an international tour company. Brash, confident, openly lesbian, her great love is her business. Women? They’re to enjoy and let go.

Alexandra Findlay is pursuing a career in Australian tourism with quiet focus and determination, convinced that her career is the best she can hope for in her arid, closeted emotional existence.

Now Alex has been assigned to accompany Lee on the American woman’s visit Down Under, to win Lee’s company over to Australian tourism. Suddenly Alex’s quiet life explodes… And Lee is challenged by a woman unlike any she has ever known.

there were a lot of components i did not enjoy about this book, but the actual construction and hitting what felt like what the next emotional beat in a relationship Should be was there. nobody said anything outlandish and nobody’s crotches were engorged. the first lesbian romance in this project ive read in first person.

i find it extremely funny when someone is in a gorgeous location and having a fucking miserable time. just seething in competitive rage. alex at one point states that her family will never forgive her if she comes out and lee goes “oh? you’re super close with them?” and alex has to go “😠 no 😠”. their relationship is at its best when lee is like “you know you don’t have to live like this?” and kind of mentally drop-kicks alex into enjoying herself. unfortunately these moments are few and far between.

i mostly hated this book bc i hated alex, but it was sort of fun (though not really what i personally read romances for) watching in horrified fascination for 180 pages as she sort of train-wrecked her way through the book. i HATE this kind of sanctimonious unpleasant gay. someone who is extremely pushy about your boundaries (lee doesn’t want anything serious and says so from hour one) but doesn't want to do any work at all on her own boundaries or emotional growth (in only one example, pitches a fucking fit at the airport after lee has been very firm about how she loves to fuck and had a great time with alex but doesn’t want anything serious). this is cutting a little too close to home bc this is nearly all baby (and a lot of grown/post college) western mass queers. i had enough of that in real life and enough roommates like that. i also don't typically enjoy the divorced woman discovering her latent lesbianism storyline. the coming out storyline deserves its own graf.

this book does a good job of portraying alex as believably prickly for her own reasons, and not just out of contrariness or to fit a trope. she was very badly scared by watching her lover get fired and her almost fired at her post divorce job! that makes sense! i wish the arguments for and against coming out that she comes up with for herself rang less true today! however, she doesn’t come out in the book as a big emotional gesture to join lee in scary freedom, she comes out to stop her boss hitting on her and to prevent her coworker from blackmailing her. her coming out is such a significant point of tension and happens with such a fizzle! I think I would be giving the book too much credit to agree and say that sometimes coming out isn't a big deal and is kind of a fizzle, be she is constantly thinking about how her first lover was fired for being a lesbian. it can happen to you!!!

there is a very contrived, unnatural ending that requires lee to betray all her most deeply held relationship beliefs/make a lot of bad decisions and a deus ex concussion for alex. not that i expect every book to be a Victorian morality fable, but i didn’t want her to have a happy ending that felt so unearned. I didn’t want her to be rewarded for being such a pushy bitch while doing zero work on herself!

at least the sex scenes were some of the less awful ones ive read in this project

-

watching

HOUSTON MENTIONED

-

playing

look at my beautiful little bitches

-

making

i am a firm believer that anything worth knitting is worth knitting well and as heirloom quality as you can make it, bc it takes the same amount of time to knit something in garbage single ply that will fall apart in one wash as it does to knit something in yarn that’s actually good. however, sometimes you need to produce an acrylic baby blanket bc a baby’s one job (as i have previously stated in this series) is to produce fluids and crumbs, and you love their parents and want to make their lives easier without adding a wool blanket to the mix.

this baby blanket is completed, only two years late. i did not measure this or even really unscrumple it before throwing it directly in the warsh. nineteen repeats across and twelve up of the tumbling blocks baby blanket, applied icord edging on the short edges which took six! total! hours! to apply. i think this yarn is bernat softee in mint? some sort of oil byproduct. phil is on my lap i cant find the band to check. i got very tired of this one and its 200 stitches across and am glad to see it out the door and to the tender graces of the toddler recipient. next on the docket is some socks for a grown person. i hope i still remember how to make socks.

[brrdhouse]

😈

under cut because it might be long and rambly and word-salady and im sorry :') a little scatter-brained right now

so ford is the one who tells him, obviously hes mr anomaly #1. ford maybe mentions it to stan, but gideon tells NO ONE, hes grown enough at this point where hes not gonna use his own death as a pull for attention (that and he knows that even now, after all the work hes done, some people wont believe him)

so he sits on the info for a while, then packs up and leaves, really only keeping in touch with his mom (who im saying gets better and gets to be happy without the blind eye and her sons tantrums tag-teaming her with trauma) as he goes.. anywhere. ends up in every state, maybe even a little in canada and mexico, really just lives the most freeing life he can because he knows that theres not much of it left

he does come back to see his mom, but other than that he has like no contact with anyone from gf

i do want him to stay for a year when hes like 19 because i like the idea of him picking up a job at the diner (pacifica&gideon ex-mean girls friendship 4ever obsessed w them, and to be real? your au is convincing me of them being queerplatonic at the least. things to think abt..), he eventually lets it slip to someone (.. pacifica) that yeah, he doesnt have any future plans because he has no future and she is DUMBFOUNDED, absolutely gobsmacked

she convinces him to get back in touch with the rest of the zodiac and theyre wary, but its been years and he seems chill now. paz is so awkward because she knows that no one else knows that this kid is dying (because to them, he is a kid, he's the youngest of them all and he'll be the first to go)

but he spends the year there, then leaves the next fall. he's in their groupchats and stuff now so they get updates sometimes about how he's doing. he thinks its funny to send stan in particular shitty tourist traps and laugh at how passionately the old man critiques them, or to go to dive bar music nights and get their merch for robbie, or even just send pictures of things he sees on the road

they do find out eventually because pacifica is gossiping (as she does) and tells dipper and then he tells mabel who tells soos who.. you get it, gossip spreads fast with this group. they try not to have secrets at all, but gideons new to the fold so they didnt expect much from him, this is just a huge surprise (to everyone except ford)

he comes back the next spring for mothers day, then he's on the road again. then again the next year, and he starts texting less and less, until he finally comes back the summer he turns 23 and tells pacifica that he can tell his time's almost up. he tells the others on the down-low, has his last summer with people that actually like him enough to spend it with him, and dies the next fall. basically withers away, getting more fatigued and pallid until he just falls asleep somewhere and never wakes up 💔

i worry that im like? woobifying him too much? or making the other characters out of character by saying theyd worry? but itd also be more than 10 years post-weirdmageddon and theyd be able to see how much he's mellowed out so i think theyd be pretty concerned about this kid just dropping dead. that and i dont think gideon becomes a "good person" he just learns how to manage the issues he couldnt as a kid and becomes a BETTER person because of it

I REALLY HOPE THIS WASNT TOO MUCH? OR AT LEAST IF IT IS ITS AN ENJOYABLE READ? ??

teen gideon headcanons because i love him :] i am constantly thinking about him and how he's the only zodiac member (and honestly, only main-ish character because of the book of bill and the website) that doesn't get a sympathetic moment, other than POSSIBLY the finale but that barely counts

i think he deserves to have a SORT OF redemption, at least internally, because he took dipper's advice in weirdmageddon to heart. even if he gets over his crush on mabel (which i think he does. mom said its my canon now) theres still the truth of "people wont wanna be around you if youre a selfish prick"

anyways he makes me emotional so i'm giving him attention

im scared tumblr will kill the quality on my tiny handwriting so transcription under the cut:

after turning like 15, he just starts traveling, gets out of oregon and hits the ground running

uses my headcanon (?) that the amulet takes years from you, and gideon probably won't live past his 20s

he finds this out, has a total mid-life (literally) crisis at 14-15 and decides to do anything "normal" he can do because he doesn't have long to do it

ofc he still has anger issues and obsesses over people and everything else, but he's a lot better at managing it [than] when he was a kid

he doesn't care if he dies with people still hating him, but he wants it to be known that he tried

[jesncin]

Hi,

I'm not a Pacific Islander so I can't talk about the accuracy, but so far I've been enjoying your most recent comics a lot.

I have a question. As far as I know no one really knows Tana Moon, or if they do, they don't talk about her. And while the issues with King Shark aren't always subtle, it has been forgotten about.

So, I guess my question is, how do you recognize these stories as ones needing expanding on? Even if they aren't specifically part of the culture you grew up in?

To clarify I'm not saying that it is impossible to connect to a culture other than your own, as there are parallels there in life experience. But it is definitely harder to recognize when those life experiences aren't exactly the same. For example, I relate to Superman because of his cultural disconnect, but I didn't relate to him for a long time because I never really thought about it in those terms before, even though I knew he'd been separated from his home planet as a baby and didn't remember it.

Anyway, yeah, that's basically my question.

Hi! This is a very interesting question (and thank you so much for enjoying my comics)! Any character is honestly up for grabs when it comes to re-imagination. My comic prof always said "there's no such thing as a bad story, just a good story that's not finished yet", and that's my mindset whenever I'm tackling characters that make people go "but why that one though?". I love niche characters because of the freedom I get in expanding a character with limited iterations, and wondering what is it I can bring out of them that DC hasn't yet.

My answer is essentially somewhere in your "to clarify" part of your ask: where yes it's definitely not impossible to connect to characters who have different cultural experiences than your own, but also the second part about "I didn't relate to Superman for a long time because I didn't see him as someone culturally disconnected even when that's a part of his lore" (pardon my paraphrasing).

For the first half, it's pretty obvious on my blog that I have strong biases for twin characters, diaspora narratives (immigrant experience is my catnip), and queer stories. While I'm not Native Hawaiian, I relate by proxy to experiences surrounding cultural genocide, assimilation, and colonization + gentrification through tourism as an Indonesian. Along with a love for qpoc culture both modern and pre-colonial, it's not that hard for me personally to connect to characters like Nanaue and Tana Moon/Taonui Mun.

But human experiences are vast and there's bound to be things I can't relate to or understand fully. That's where the second half comes in. I too never saw Superman as an immigrant or diaspora. It wasn't until Gene Yang -with his own life experiences and opinions- made Smashes the Klan that I saw Superman differently and couldn't see him any other way again. My aim is to bring about that feeling for others in my AU.

It helps to supplement your own knowledge with other people's perspectives. I'm sure you've heard the whole research spiel before! But I don't think enough people talk about how much empathy you develop from it. I finally committed to consistently learn ASL for Ma'al (building upon what I've already learned from Deaf people and their history), and that in turn informed my criticism of Noah Ikumelo's portrayal in Hellblazer. While working on Don't Call Me Superboy, I'm reading "From A Native Daughter" by Haunani-Kay Trask to inform my take on Tana/Taonui. "Cultural people have to become political… Our culture can’t just be ornamental and recreational." are words from her that are never going to leave me now haha.

I consider it a necessity in media criticism to not just bring in your own unique perspective to inform your reading, but to supplement it with the knowledge of others to expand your worldview. The best thing about art is its ability to broaden your empathy for people from real and non-existing backgrounds. But empathy is a skill that requires work and challenging your own preconceived notions.

That's how I "recognize these stories as ones needing expanding on". It's another reason why I love niche characters, people don't give them a chance or see little point in them but there's always a story to tell. Creativity's only limit is what you believe is the limit.

[hubba-hubba1]

I’m so glad that the women and girls who discover radical feminism and 4b are finally waking up about the lies they were told by the degenerate toxic patriarchal society who tries to groom them into being vulnerable and exploited housewives or worse. I saw on reddit and other platforms how former tradlife, conservative, liberal, or ‘pick me’ girls realized a male’s attention wasn’t worth it after torturing theirselves about their appearances or being criticized for every single thing by male peers and other female peers who want male validation. A middle aged former conservative lady told about how she was the “perfect” wife and went to church and took care of the kids and house even dressing/looking the part, but her ex husband still ended up cheating on her for a younger woman and she was left with almost nothing after the divorce. There is hope for women and girls after all if they spread the word and avoid messes like these.

On another note, women and girls in the global south or others who are in a similar situation where they come from poorer areas are more prone to violence from the men in their communities because they have less resources to deal with them. One lady told me how her uncle and aunt tried to abort their baby once they found out it was a girl and they got away with it at first even though that was illegal in their country but thankfully she eventually told on them to the police. More women are taking back their power and showing the same energy by supporting other women and girls financially or being there for their sisters in other ways, adopting or having girls and teaching them radfem values, aborting males which saves other girls and women from future violent criminals, focusing on their careers or having a good means of income, and avoiding those vermin manifesting itself as right wing/conservative men and boys with brain damage, and performative liberal men. I have seen different women and girls from every walk of life in the radical intersectional feminist community and I admire how it tackles how cruel the world is to us while having resources to help other women and girls without babying men + boys irrelevant feelings like any other community would.

What’s alarming is that many disgusting and demonic rich men and their hell spawns/family (rich women that are like-minded and associated with them are not our allies) hold power and spread misogynistic, racist, classist and homophobic right wing propaganda luring in insecure + pathetic boys and men who think they will get a chance to be like them when they’re just disposable peasants in the twisted rich men’s eyes. They also make it harder for the average woman to get better jobs in stem (science, technology, engineering, and math) careers and universities. Notice how women make up the majority of the education and healthcare workforce but are struggling with living costs because they aren’t paid enough? They see that women try to improve theirselves and come up with ways to tear you down. Greedy rich men destroy and exploit women’s countries in South+central America, Asia, and Africa for profit and the average men carry out their dirty work (war crimes, sexual tourism/trafficking) while seeing how those women are living in poor conditions then try to coerce them into sexual and financial abuse. In a better world, both of these groups of oppressors would pay for their crimes against half the population and go extinct, but since this is reality women and girls will need to make it hell on earth for them like how they have been doing to us and stop falling into the soft life propaganda which never worked for your mothers and grandmothers in the past and now.

[stay-dazed]

stray kids react to: a horror movie

notes: female reader. i suppose there's slight angst due to scary movie scenes and fear reactions?

chan: you adore horror movies. you can think back on your childhood, the movies you watched with your parents every saturday, like a fun family tradition. and with chan in your life, you’re eager to share it with him. you had actually mentioned it in passing before, when you guys were still just friends, but it never came up again. so you decide to bring it up tonight (a saturday, of course), at chan’s dorm room.

after kicking off your shoes and getting settled on his uncomfortably firm bed, you ask him,” hey channie? i was just wondering, would you like to start watching scary movies with me every saturday? like how my family used to.”

chan stops midway through tossing aside his own shoes, his hands stiff under the influence of his wrist braces. he looks over his shoulder at you, his mind obviously working overtime to process what you asked him. “really?”

“of course, i’d love for you to! is that alright?”

“no, yeah, that’s fine!” he finishes tossing his shoes aside and runs his fingers through his curls,” just keep in mind baby, i’m not exactly good with scary stuff..”

oh.. you suppose that’s true. you’ve certainly seen the stray kids’ escape room videos enough times. but no matter!

“it’s okay, channie! we won’t watch anything intense, i promise.”

so you both get under the covers and chan pulls up his laptop. you both settle on the original friday the 13th movie. this was actually one of your dad’s favorites growing up, so you’re happy to see it again. chan.. well, he puts on a brave face. no screaming, no flinching, nothing. but inside, the practical effects are shaving off a couple years of his life. even though it is kinda fun.

“this is your version of not intense? well yeah, it is good.. just- let me hold your arm.”

minho: minho has never been one to scare easily. sure he might flinch if someone were to scream at him out of nowhere, but as a general rule nothing really scares or startles him. so of course he’s your partner in crime when it comes to getting your horror fix. strolling through cliche “haunted” corn mazes, attending all-day horror conventions, daring one another to buy weird and almost certainly cursed little tidbits from an antique store, you name it.

today though, it’s just a horror movie.

you find it on a streaming service, and while you’ve never heard of it before, judging by the description it seems like a pretty good psychological horror. of course minho immediately points out the cover art as stupid (and he may be right) but hey, at least it has a 4.3 star rating.

minho takes a moment to run to the kitchen and make some popcorn. once it’s all popped and poured into a large, stained bowl that’s been used for many a movie date, he makes sure to add his special ingredient: golden syrup. just something to give it some sweetness. others may find it to be a gross food combination, but after he introduced it to you, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

when he comes back to the living room, popcorn bowl in hand, he sees the cozy nest of blankets and pillows that you put together on the couch. his lips twitch into a tiny smile and he carefully places himself next to you in the nest, close enough that his thigh presses comfortingly against yours. snuggled against minho’s side, you press play on the movie, and the popcorn disappears within the first five minutes or so.

the movie’s pretty good, especially at the psychological aspect. but the few attempts at jumpscares are a little pathetic to say the least. minho gets a good scoff out of them. by the time the credits roll, you’re both discussing what you think the film was trying to portray to the audience. neither of you have the intention of leaving the nest anytime soon.

“no y/n, it’s obvious it’s about how the ignorance of tourism leads to the decline of culturally important areas. they just needed a weird little scarecrow to get the point across.”

changbin: changbin doesn’t mind watching scary things with you occasionally, but he’ll be screaming the entire time. he’s naturally a loud and excitable person anyway, but add elements of plagues or zombies and there’s a chance you’ll be getting another noise complaint from the lady in the apartment below you.

but it’s fun either way. so here you are tonight, watching the wailing with changbin, with plagues and zombies and all that good stuff.

you both had a good day today. you slept in for a good portion of the morning while changbin was at the studio before heading to the gym together later in the evening (all you really did were some stretches while you watched changbin do the harder workouts), went out to a good restaurant afterward, and came back to the dorm to watch a movie or two together. unfortunately for changbin, the first movie you pick just so happens to be one he finds terrifying. but you’ve never seen it before and you’re pretty curious.

you curl up against your boyfriend on the couch, nice and cozy with a warm drink in hand, but to your eardrums’ demise. at each minor jumpscare or suspenseful moment changbin screams as loud as his lungs allow him to, and eventually you end up having to move across the couch from him in order to protect your ears. the movie ends in a flurry of confusion as you understandably had a harder time than usual paying attention.

“what do you mean your ears are ringing? i wasn’t that bad! you’re the one who's being dramatic, jagiya.”

hyunjin: hyunjin is a fairly dramatic person, as you’ve always known, and a lot of his emotion comes out in artistic expression. therefore, you enjoy combining both of your passions by watching what are considered artistic horror movies. granted, those kinds of movies tend to be the most twisted ones of all, but at least it’s something you two can pause and talk about for a while together. you’ve searched around online recently to find an artistic horror movie you haven’t yet seen together, and eventually you found one.

so here you and hyunjin sit, comfy on your bed. hyunjin just got done with schedules and wanted to spend the rest of the night relaxing with you, watching some horribly messed up movie while snacking on candy he picked up from the convenience store on his way over. both of you have your gaze locked on the tv screen ahead as you lean against hyunjin’s chest, munching on the candies he puts to your lips now and again. his left hand remains less busy, resting on your waist and rubbing little comforting circles against the fabric of your pajama shirt with his thumb. by now he does this out of habit, not even realizing his thumb is moving.

luckily the movie doesn’t seem to have any jumpscares (your ears are spared from your boyfriend’s shrieks this time) but the increasingly unsettling, haunting vibes emanating from it are enough to have him watching through his fingers eventually, his arm no longer wrapped around you. the body horror doesn’t seem to help much.

you look up at hyunjin at one point, seeing his wide, shiny eyes watching the tv intently despite the obvious fear he has. you can’t help but giggle. not because you find his fear funny, but because he’s just so cute. you opt to wrap your arms around him instead, keeping your big baby safe in your embrace. he gratefully accepts and slides down in the bed a bit so he fits better against your chest.

unlike usual, you guys didn’t pause the movie during the entire two and a half hour runtime. but to be fair your arms were a bit full. once the credits begin to run, hyunjin quickly sits up in your arms and smooths his hair down, trying to appear put together.

"it wasn't even that bad. why are you laughing??"

jisung: one of the first things you and jisung bonded over was the fact both of you struggle with anxiety to some extent. the vulnerability you were able to share with each other was such a relief, and ultimately led to the relationship you two now share together. but despite the fact you and jisung get easily startled - jisung more so than you - you both are champs when it comes to all things horror.

jisung may jump into the stratosphere when he hears a balloon pop, but he talks excitedly every time you two watch a horror movie. the more gorey and psychologically damaging, the better. today, on jisung’s rare day off, it just makes sense to start a horror movie marathon at 10 in the morning. so here you two sit on your couch, deciding on which of the lined up movies to watch first.

ultimately, you two settle on the mist. it’s not a particularly intense horror movie, but it is one of your favorites as ‘creature feature’ is your favorite subgenre of horror. you can fondly think back on your childhood, watching the movie first with your mother. eventually it became your comfort movie, playing it in the background while doing things around the house. jisung hasn’t seen it before, at least not that he can remember, so he looks forward to seeing what about the movie you enjoy so much.

in fact, he’s so excited he talks throughout the movie, pointing out the little things he notices or things he finds the most fun. you don’t mind it, of course. you add to the conversation, smiling at jisung in entertainment. when you think about it, it really is entertaining that the man who will throw himself to the floor at the sound of a balloon popping can watch a man get chomped on by a pterobuzzard so easily. you chuckle, and can’t help but lean over and plant a kiss on jisung’s cheek.

"wh- what was that for? i'm cute? but i didn't even do anything?"

felix: you’ve always indulged in your horror fixes on your own time, just because it was more fun and convenient that way. and, on top of that, anything horror related isn’t exactly your boyfriend’s strong suit. but maybe tonight will be different!

you’re scrolling on your streaming service, looking for anything you haven’t seen at least 5 times already, when you come across the perfect one in the new releases. it’s one you haven’t seen since you were in your teens, when you and your siblings enjoyed watching it together and poking fun at the characters. it’s nothing too scary, honestly. so you call felix from his room to the living room.

he waddles up to you, his large pajama shirt bunched up slightly at his waist and his house slippers squeaking on the floor and his hair sticking up at odd ends. you smile at him, your heart warm looking at your adorable boyfriend.

“hi baby. were you napping?”

“mm-mm.”

“okay. would you like to watch a movie with me then?”

“ooh, okay!” he hurries to your side, snuggling up next to you and pulling the couch blanket over both of your laps. “what movie are we watching?”

“it’s called the strangers.”

one look at the movie’s cover art, at the three masked figures, and felix feels his body tense a bit. you quickly hop in,” it’s okay lixie! it’s really more of a thriller or suspense movie than a horror one.”

he nods slowly,“ okay..”

45 minutes in and felix is peeking from behind a couch pillow, jumping at the smallest sounds or view of the strangers. occasionally, he also lets out little surprised squeaks. he presses even closer against your side, threatening to crawl right on top of you.

you pout at the sight. your poor baby. you wrap your arms securely around his small frame, letting him ditch the pillow and hide his face in your neck. it tickles but it’s okay.

“hey sunshine, would you like to watch something else?” you feel him nod against your neck.

"can we watch pponyo..?" pponyo it is.

after a little while, felix settles back down, his shoulders slowly loosening after being so tense. although he still refuses to let go of you.

"it's okay, baby, i know you didn't mean to scare me. you might have to go to the bathroom with me tonight though."

seungmin: you love when horror movies affect you, particularly in a psychological sense. when horror movies make your heart speed up in your chest, and you need to hyperfocus on every potential detail or threat. but most of all, you love when horror movies are just absolutely out-of-this-world stupid; bonus points if they were produced in the 50’s-80’s.

so that’s what you and seungmin watch together most of all; old b-grade horror movies that the two of you can laugh at and make fun of together. last week it was the blob, and this week it’s killer klowns from outer space.

you lean your back against the arm of the couch and lay your legs across seungmin’s lap, where he absentmindedly pats or rubs them with his red-stained fingertips, sometimes giving your feet a tickle to bother you. seungmin’s shiny eyes are focused on the tv screen, an empty hot cheetos bag set beside him.

seungmin is the first to poke fun at the clown that captures people by distracting them with shadow puppets. “imagine being over the age of 6 and being lured in by shadow puppetry.”

you respond,” to be fair, if i saw someone make a hyper-realistic dinosaur shadow with their hands, i’d also be pretty impressed.”

“and that’s why you’d die first in the alien clown apocalypse.”

you give him an unamused glance, to which he just smiles back, in all his puppy-like charm. you roll your eyes and turn back to the tv screen, but can’t quite help the little smile from creeping up on your face as well.

“you’re an idiot, kim seungmin.”

the jokes and taunting continue throughout the duration of the movie. mostly towards the painfully 80’s characters, but occasionally towards one another. you really hadn’t planned on getting into such a debate about who would survive in the unlikely scenario that clowns from another planet would come to earth and start cotton candy-ifying the human race.

“obviously i’d just eat through the cotton candy like a sane person. look if you meet your demise to fluffy sugar, that’s between you and god.”

jeongin: if there’s one thing about your boyfriend, it’s that he doesn’t get scared or grossed-out easily. unlike you, who loves horror movies with a bit of gore in them just as much as the next person, but you can’t help cringing at it every single time. sometimes, depending on which part of the body is being injured, you have to just hide your face completely.

like right now, as you hide your face in jeongin’s shoulder, listening to the sounds of the train stewardess get her throat chomped on by a zombie.

jeongin just wanted to relax after a strenuous schedule today, surrounded by the comfort that you bring. you were happy to oblige, and you were excited to see which horror movie he’d pick out this time (you picked last time). and for the second time within the past month or so, he chose train to busan.

you love the movie, of course, but the first couple rampage scenes can be a bit much for you. so you snuggle even closer to jeongin, almost as if you were attempting to crawl into his skin for safety.

he can’t help but chuckle at you, which you can feel rumble through his arm. it’s just because you’re acting all cute. and it’s a little bit funny.

“it’s over. you can look now, babe.” he says, nudging you with the arm that you’re holding onto to get your attention.

you peek back out and continue watching the chaos unfold on the screen, as if nothing happened. with your head still on jeongin’s shoulder, you find yourself surrounded by his comforting aura as well, the smell of the body wash you bought for him a nice familiarity. the movie continues without much eventfulness. jisung walks into the kitchen very loudly at one point, and jeongin has to use the bathroom midway through.

but now, it’s reached the end of the movie. and if there’s one thing about your boyfriend… it’s that he’s not a man afraid to cry.

so here you both sit, wrapped up in each other’s arms under a blanket on the couch, crying as the end scenes play.

“god this movie sucks.” you sniffle.

“i know. it’s great, isn’t it?”

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 7 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, phone sex, daddy kink, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, webcam sex, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 6.5k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 7 | is it cool that I said all that?

Soon enough, June gave way to July, the mid-summer heat setting in across the city like a fog. The city became busier, too, thanks to the peak tourism season and school being closed for the summer. For once, you barely noticed - you didn’t have to worry about the influx of customers, the more crowded buses and metro cars with packed, sweaty bodies that you had come to dread. Now, you were happy to shell out the money for a taxi, or to call Steve’s car service, even when he wasn’t with you. You had felt strange about it at first, but he insisted upon it. And, of course, you had started spending most nights with Steve - still getting picked up from your apartment, going out to fancy dinners and bars, and then going home with him. You had started spending the night more often, too.

On mornings that Steve had work, he’d leave quietly, rarely even causing you to stir. He’d usually send a text, or on occasion leaving a note; something along the lines of stay as long as you’d like, I’ll see you soon. On occasion, he’d stay at your place, too. You were embarrassed by your tiny, cluttered apartment, thinking of his pristine penthouse. But, he never said anything. Sometimes, you’d find yourself stumbling up the stairs and into your bed, challenging yourselves to be quiet with the knowledge of Robin asleep on the other side of the wall.

It was a nice routine - in the time you had been living in Rome, you had been spending most of your summers working as many hours as possible to save for the upcoming semester of university, spreading your money as thinly as possible during the school year when you had to inevitably cut back on hours. But now, it was different - you were letting yourself actually enjoy the city. You would take yourself out for breakfast, sipping coffee leisurely in a cafe while the city woke up. You would go for walks, stopping in shops along the way. Normally, you’d take one look at the prices of anything and walk out empty-handed. But now, you decided to treat yourself. If you saw something you liked - clothes, books, trinkets, jewelry, fresh food from the market - you let yourself buy it, not feeling guilt anymore when you brandished Steve’s credit card. Even in casual clothes, you found yourself dressing nicer in your daily life, the way you had always wanted, but just couldn’t afford to. You treated yourself to the hair salon, manicure appointments, and even splurged on the extra spa options every now and then. It was all new, still.

“You going somewhere?” Robin had asked one morning over her cereal, eyeing you as you were pouring yourself coffee, already fully dressed for the day.

“Just the market - do you need anything?”

“Uh, no. It’s just - you look nice. That’s all,” she remarked, smiling a bit.

“Oh - uh, thanks.”

You had started to notice it, too - your face had grown a little fuller, your skin brighter, the dark circles under your eyes a thing of the past. At one point, when you walked past a mirror, you stopped in your tracks - you were glowing. You never knew what people had meant when they said that, before - but now you understood.

Then, of course, there was Steve. You were seeing him even more frequently, five or six nights a week. Sometimes, he’d even meet you for lunch, on the rare occasion that he actually took his lunch break. It was over one of these lunch dates that he broke the news - you were sitting at a cafe close to the city center, only a few blocks from his office. You sipped your coffee, eyeing the menu as he cleared his throat.

“So, um - I have to go away this week. Business trip,” he said.

You looked up at him, a wave of disappointment washing over you. You tried to shake it - it was stupid, why did it matter? You just did your best to keep your face neutral.

“Oh, really?” you asked.

He nodded, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair.

“I only found out this morning - Barcelona, just for a bit. Five days, I think. Six, if you include travel, I guess.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together. 

“Yeah, I mean - do what you’ve got to do. At least it’s not too far, right?”

“Not at all - five, six hour flight, I think.”

“Well - that should be fun. I went to Barcelona over winter break with some friends my second year - I mean, we stayed in a hostel and basically just fucked around in the city, but it was nice.”

Steve chuckled, picking up his coffee cup.

“Yeah, well, I’ll probably spend most of it holed up in a conference room or hotel. Besides, I don’t speak a lick of Spanish.”

You shrugged. “To be fair, you barely speak Italian and have been living here for, what, six months?”

“Yeah, okay, fair enough,” Steve said, holding his hands up in surrender as he rolled his eyes. “To be fair, a lot of people speak English. Still, pretty sad to live in Italy for the better part of the year and not know any of the language, right?”

He was smiling, shaking his head incredulously, but avoiding your gaze. It probably meant nothing, just him making a joke, but you couldn’t help but read a bit into it. There was something in his tone, something wistful, a bit self-deprecating.

“I could teach you,” you said softly.

“Yeah?” he asks, looking up at you.

“I mean, I don’t think you’d be fluent, I’m not a teacher or anything, but… some words, phrases, basics, things like that. If you want.”

He smiled, a bit more softly this time. 

“Yeah - that’d be nice.”

You both just stared at each other, exchanging smiles, the moment lingering. It was interrupted when your waitress returned, asking for your order. You glanced over at Steve.

“Okay - I guess the lesson one will be ordering in a restaurant, yeah?”

******

You stayed over at Steve’s the night before he left. Despite doing his best to move quietly around the room, you found yourself waking up to the sound of him zipping his suitcase, his silhouette barely visible in the dim, early-morning light.

“Mm,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes.

He froze, turning to you.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Sorry, baby - go back to sleep.”

“Are y’leaving?” you asked groggily.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m afraid I have to. But, I’ll be back on Saturday, yeah?”

“Hm, yeah,” you said, turning over under the sheets. You let your breathing slow, shutting your eyes as you heard Steve move about the room, grabbing some last-minute things. He whispered your name through the darkness, so softly that even awake, you barely heard it. But, sleep was pulling you back into its clutches, and you didn’t say anything, too disoriented to reply. In hindsight, he probably thought that you had fallen completely back to sleep. You heard him take a few steps until he was right next to you, crouching down to your level. He reached out slowly, placing his hand on the side of your head, gently rubbing his thumb along your temple.

“You know - I’m really gonna miss you,” he whispered. “I know I probably shouldn’t, but -”

He stopped, taking a deep breath. Then, you felt the warmth of his lips pressing to your temple, then he pulled away, footsteps carrying him towards the doorway.

“Did you say something?” you grumbled into the pillow.

His footsteps stopped. Then, from the doorway, you heard, “Oh, uh, no - just, go to sleep. You can let yourself out - I’ll see you Saturday.”

Then he was gone.

*****

You went almost 12 hours before you texted Steve. You weren’t entirely sure what the protocol with this was - should you reach out to him? Should you ask how his flight was, or how things were going? It felt strange, though, doing something a girlfriend would do. But, it felt just as strange to not talk to him.

You stared at your phone for a few moments, tapping your fingers nervously on the kitchen table. You stared at your text conversation, typing and erasing a few times. This was stupid - you should be able to just text him -

hey

It sent before you could think about it anymore. You groaned, letting your head fall forward on the table.

“What did you do now?” Robin’s voice asked from the kitchen doorway.

“Why do you assume I did something?”

“Well, did you?”

You rolled your head to the side to look up at her, sighing.

“I’m the lamest mistress in the world.”

Robin visibly gagged.

“Okay, first of all - never say ‘mistress’ again. Also, that’s not technically what you are -”

“Robs, I love you, but I don’t need -”

“What’s going on?” she asked, more sincere now. She slid into the chair across from you, the old rickety wood creaking under her.

You just flashed your phone at her, defeated. She studied it for a moment before leaning back in her chair, arms crossed.

“Yep. You’re lame.”

You groaned again, slamming your forehead on the table again.

“What do I do?”

“Well, why the fuck are you texting him, anyways?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s just - isn’t he away? For like, a week?”

You straightened up, furrowing your brow.

“Well, yeah.”

“So - why are you texting him? Like, are you trying to sext him or something?”

“What? God, no -”

“Then - huh?”

The look on Robin’s face said it all - somehow, not sexting him was infinitely weirder. Before either of you could say anything, your phone sounds off with a ding.

Steve: Hi!

You stared down at it, realizing one thing - somehow, Steve was infinitely lamer than you’d ever be. As you continued to stare at his message, plotting how to even reply, you were pulled out by Robin saying your name. You glanced up at her - had she said something?

“Hm?”

“I asked why’re you smiling? Is it him?”

You hadn’t even realized you were smiling. Suddenly feeling like a silly schoolgirl, you shook your head.

“Uh, no -”

Robin rolled her eyes.

“Oh god.”

*******

For that entire first day, you found yourself constantly texting Steve. Before, it had just been making plans, occasionally saying goodnight, letting him know you got home safe. But this was… different.

how was your flight?

It was okay, no complaints. Just tired. Did you get home okay?

yep thanks for letting me stay over

Never a problem - sorry I woke you up this morning.

…

…

…

oh you didn’t 

at least, i don’t remember that

A lie.

Oh, good.

It was easy, after that. He sent you pictures of the city as he drove through, as well as his hotel room.

ooooh, fancy

It should be, considering I’ll be spending most of my time here.

you’re not exploring the city at all? let yourself have some fun, old man

Ha. Wish I could - I’ll be at a conference or in meetings most of the week. Maybe we’ll go out for some corporate dinners, though.

sorry, i was falling asleep just reading about it 😴 

Oh, shut up.

you gonna make me?

He didn’t reply for a few minutes. You saw him start to type a few times, stop, and start again. Finally:

You’re going to pay for that later, you know.

i’m counting on it 😉

You didn’t hear much from Steve after that - it was silly to think you should, considering he had work to do. You went about the rest of your day pushing him from your mind - heading down to the market, cooking dinner for yourself and Robin, ending the night watching a terrible horror movie that you laughed your way through. It was pretty late, after you had been lying in your bed scrolling on your phone mindlessly for a while, that you heard from Steve again. But, he didn’t text - he was calling you.

The moment his name popped up on the screen, you sat up a bit straighter, letting your finger hover over the accept button. You weren’t sure why it was such a big deal that he was calling you - but, when you pressed accept, you felt your stomach flip, your heart rate speeding up a bit as you pressed the phone to your ear.

After a deep breath, you managed, “Hello?”

“Hey there,” Steve’s voice replied. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“Oh, no,” you assured him, shifting to fully sit up. “I was awake.”

“Okay, good - I wasn’t sure, I know it’s late.”

You pulled your phone away for a second to glance at the screen - 11:47pm.

“Yeah, I guess,” you said. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, something rustling on the other end.

“Just - well, nothing, really. I was just in bed, scrolling on my phone, normal stuff.”

“Normal stuff?”

“Yeah - you know, the rest of us are on social media, letting our brains turn to mush. It’s fun, you should try it,” you said sarcastically.

That earned a chuckle from him on the other end.

“Sounds great, but I’ll probably pass.”

“What’s your phone for, then?”

“Work. And contacting people, like you. Well, not like you, but - you know what I mean. Maybe taking a picture every now and then. What else would I need it for?”

You rolled your eyes. “What are you, 80?”

“Honestly? Feels like it sometimes.”

You laughed, settling further into your pillows.

“So, how’s Barcelona?”

He sighed. “Fine. I mean, I landed, checked into my hotel, and went straight to the conference. It’s the same shit as always - presentations, schmoozing people from other companies, meeting with industry big-wigs. But, at least there was a cocktail hour at the end.”

“Wait, are you drunk-calling me?”

“What? No! I only had a couple. It’s not - it doesn’t matter.”

You rolled your eyes. You could picture him, flustered and slightly indignant at the mere accusation.

“So, where are you now?” you asked.

“Back at my hotel. I - I just wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay - It’s nice, actually.”

A moment of silence hung between you, and you immediately kicked yourself for even saying it.

“I’m sorry, that was - I just meant that it’s - well, you’re -”

“What’re you wearing?” he asked, the words tumbling out.  You paused, your ramblings dying on your tongue.

“Huh?”

“I - I asked, what are you wearing?”

You looked down, brow furrowed. “Uh, like, an old college t-shirt, some shorts, just what I usually - wait, oh my god… are you trying to, like, have phone sex right now?”

“Well - it’s not - yes. Yes, I am. That’s how it’s supposed to start, right?”

You giggled, falling back on your bed. You probably shouldn’t be laughing, but you couldn’t help it - somehow, Steve was both the most suave and awkward person you’ve ever met, often at the same time.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, voice tinged with worry.

“It’s just - you’ve never done this before?”

“Is it that obvious?” he asked sheepishly.

“Well, yeah, kinda. But, don’t worry about it, you’re doing great.”

“Do you want me to stop? We don’t have to, I just thought you wanted -”

“No! I mean, when you said you’re going to pay for that later, I thought you meant when you got home. But… if you’re offering -”

A pause. Then, “Yes,” he whispered. “I’m offering.”

You laid back a bit more, biting your lip.

“Well, let me get a bit more comfortable, Harrington.”

You reached down to the hem of your t-shirt, lifting it over your head with ease. Bare-chested, you hissed as the cool air hit your breasts, making yourself comfortable on your back again. Placing the phone on the pillow next to you, you put Steve on speaker.

“What did you just do?” Steve asked on the other end.

“Just took my shirt off, hope you don’t mind.”

You heard his breath hitch. “What kind of bra do you have on?” he asked quietly.

“Wasn’t wearing one,” you replied.

“Fuck.”

“Mm,” you said, taking one of your breasts in your hand. You began massaging it, rolling your nipple between your fingers until it hardened, before moving to the next one.

“They feel so nice in my hand,” you said breathily. “So soft, god, but not as nice as when you do it?”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, voice hoarse. “God, I miss your tits.”

“Mm,” you said, leaning into your own touch. “And they miss you. They miss your mouth on them, you know that? Now I’ve just got them all to myself -”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve murmured. 

You let your hand snake down, toying with the hem of your shorts. Then, slowly, you slide them off, shimmying them down your legs and kicking them off.

“Sorry, my shorts were in the way - had to take them off,” you confessed. 

“Yeah? You still got anything on, baby?”

“Just my panties - but, god, they’re soaked,” you said, fingers ghosting over the lacy fabric. 

“Yeah, I bet,” Steve said, voice a bit rougher. “My voice gets you off that much, huh?”

“Mmm hm,” you said dreamily. “But, there’s a problem.”

“And what’s that?”

“If I had to guess… you’ve still got all your clothes on, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said. 

“Well, I’m not touching myself until your cock is out.”

And with that, you heard rustling on the other end of the phone, and the distinct sound of a belt hitting the floor, followed by fabric. God, he wasn’t even dressed for bed, yet.

“There you go,” you whispered. “That’s more like it. Are you hard yet?”

“Yes, Jesus, I’ve been half-hard ever since you picked up the phone.”

“Good,” you said.

“But - I’m not doing another thing until you start touchin’ yourself,” he said firmly. “Can you do that for me?”

“Anything you want, daddy.”

You heard him groan, and you smirked to yourself. You let your hand wander over your clothed cunt, finally allowing your fingers to slip under the waistband. You ran your fingers up and down your slit, soaking them in the wetness there. When you finally came in contact with your clit, you gasped.

“What are you doing?” Steve asked, voice gruff.

“I’m so wet,” you breathed. “My fingers are coated - I - I’m rubbing my clit. Nice and slow.”

“Good girl,”  Steve whispered. “Does it feel good?”

“So good,” you admitted. 

“Does it feel as good as when I do it?” 

“No,” you said. “But still - god, it feels so nice.”

“Do you touch yourself a lot?” he asked. “When I’m not around? Tell me the truth, baby.”

“Yes,” you breathed. “I do.”

“Do you think of me?”

“Mm hm, I think about you when I make myself cum, all alone.”

He sighed on the other end. “Yeah, I bet you do. Because you’re fuckin’ mine.”

“I’m yours,” you echoed, picking up speed on your clit. You gasped.

“Do you ever use toys to get yourself off?” he asked.

“I - ah! Fuck - yeah, I do. I have a - shit - a vibrator.”

A pause on the other end. Then, “Take it out, baby. I want you to use it.”

Even though you knew he couldn’t see you, you nodded, reaching towards your nightstand and shuffling through the drawer until you found it, a little purple thing that had been getting less use lately than usual.

“I have it,” you said, settling back down. “But… I’ll only start using it if you start touching yourself, now.”

He groaned. “Fine, I will.”

You heard him hiss, then his breathing start to quicken.

“I’m stroking my cock, baby - god, I’m so fuckin’ hard right now - just thinking about your pretty pussy, how good it feels around me.”

You sighed, turning on the vibrator in response. Upon hearing the sound, Steve groaned. You pressed it to your clit, crying out the moment it made contact. Your back arched, your hips bucking into it.

“Oh, god - this feels so good,” you said. 

“Are you using it?”

“Yeah, right on my clit - it’s so good, it’s too much -”

“Yes, play with that pussy, baby,” he said, voice strained. “I want you to fuck yourself on your fingers, can you do that for me?”

“‘Course I can,” you whispered. “After your cock, I can fit anything inside me.”

He let out a guttural groan. In response, you took your free hand that had returned to massaging your breasts and brought it downwards, coating it in your slick before letting a finger slip inside you. After a few moments, you added a second finger, stretching and pumping as you circled your clit with the vibe.

“Mm, that feels good. I miss having you inside me, though,” you confessed.

“Fuck - yeah? You do?”

“Mm. Nothing makes me feel as good as your cock, sir.”

“Damn right,” he said. “I’m just picturin’ you, all spread out, touching yourself - are you close?”

“Yes,” you admitted, hips bucking to your own touch. You added a third finger, curling them inside of yourself, finding that one spot that made you see stars.

“Are you close?” you asked.

“Yeah, fuck, I am - you should see this, sitting here, cock in my hand - wishing it was your pussy, or you mouth. It’s like your pussy was made for me, I wish I was buried inside you right now -”

You felt your abdomen tighten, your heart rate quickening. You moaned, fucking yourself on your fingers faster.

“Shit, Steve, I - I’m close, I’m gonna cum -”

“Cum, baby, please,” he begged. “And say my name when you do it - I wanna hear you -”

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed, “I’ll cum for you, I’ll scream your name as loud as you want -”

“Good girl,” he grunted, his breathing labored.

You pictured it, Steve jerking himself off to the sound of your voice, the very thought of you getting him off. You gasped and moaned as you touched yourself, your walls starting to clench around your fingers. You thought of Steve - his hands on you, his voice in your ears, his cock inside you, filling you to the brim. You could feel it, your soft walls wrapped around him, him pounding into you, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as you both came -

Before you knew it, you were coming, your peak hitting you suddenly. You screamed, head thrown back as your cunt squeezed and pulsed around your fingers.

“Steve! Fuck, oh my god, I’m cumming -”

“Shit - me too, princess. Oh -” he growled your name as he came and you convulsed and moaned as you thought about it, him spilling into his hand, your name on his lips.

You rode out your orgasm, brow sweating and breathing heavy as you came down from your high. You dropped the vibrator, the stimulation becoming too much. You just heard Steve’s labored breathing on the other end of the phone, both of you needing a moment to gather yourself. Eventually, you withdrew your fingers from yourself, grimacing. Your hand was soaked, coated in the evidence of your orgasm.

“Christ,” Steve breathed after a while, finally breaking the silence. “Baby, that was so fucking hot.”

“Yeah?” you asked. “What would you rate it?”

“Five out of five stars,” he joked. “Definitely would do it again.”

You laughed, slapping your palm to your forehead as you stared up at the ceiling. You had a stupid smile on your face, you could feel it. But, you didn’t really care - he wasn’t even here to see you.

“Same,” you said. “So, turns out you are good at phone sex.”

This earned a laugh from Steve on the other end, much to your satisfaction.

“Oh, yeah - but, I’m only going to get better with practice. Couldn’t hurt, right?”

You felt your face heat. You bit your lip, nodding.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Practice makes perfect.”

“Good,” he said. “Because whenever I'm away, I'm planning on doing this a lot."

That time, you let yourself giggle into the phone, practically giddy. And, you tried to ignore the small part of you, deep down, that ached.

******

The next day, you hardly heard from Steve, aside from the odd text exchange here and there. That was fine enough with you - Robin got it in her head to go out again, and you opted to go along. You finally met Vickie, who met you at the bar - she seemed lovely, and exactly Robin’s type. You had been spending so much time with Steve, that you had forgotten what it had felt like to be a normal 20-year-old. So, when you stumbled in the door at 3am and collapsed in your bed, you had hardly thought about Steve at all. That was, at least, until the following day. When you woke up, it was nearly noon, a headache already forming as you blinked groggily in the morning light. You reached for your phone, squinting as the newest message from Steve flashed across the screen:

Good morning :)

morning

After a few minutes, a response:

Did you just wake up?

yeah

Robin and I went out last night

i’m kinda hungover

Should you have told him that? Or, was he going to judge you, reprimand you, ask where you went? Then again, did he have any right to?

That sounds fun. Well, not the hangover, but going out. I hope you had a good time :)

Seemed legitimate enough - over text, you learned, Steve really only knows how to be genuine.

it was, i’m regretting it now tho

Well, take it easy. I’m heading out now, I’ll probably be busy most of the day.

What were you even supposed to say to that? Have fun? Of course he wouldn’t, it was a 12-hour workday. Did he even want you to say anything to that?

ok ☺️

It wasn’t until quite late that night that you heard from him again. You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth when his name popped up on your screen - but now, he was FaceTiming you. Part of you wondered if it was an accident, if he meant to just do a voice call instead, or perhaps not call you at all. Still, you quickly spit out your toothpaste and fumbled with the phone to answer. Steve’s face popped up, looking expectant. It had only been a few days since you actually saw him, and you felt your heart tighten anyway.

“Hey,” you said, trying to mask your surprise as you made your way back towards your bedroom. “What’s going on?”

Something faltered in his face, only for a split second - for all you knew, it was a connection glitch.

“Oh, nothing - sorry, should I not have called?”

“No! No, it’s fine, I just - didn’t take you for the FaceTiming type.”

“I’m thirty, not eighty.”

You rolled your eyes, plopping down onto your bed and settling until you were sitting up cross-legged.

“Allegedly, you old man. How was your day?”

He sighed deeply, in a way that you almost wished you hadn’t asked.

“Fine, I guess. Long. We’re really close to closing a major deal, but… it’s just -” he sighed again, rubbing his hand across his face. “Well, I won’t bore you with the details. But it’s taking longer than expected, and we’re really hitting some roadblocks.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, frowning a bit. He looked tired, and stressed. All you wanted was to reach through the screen and kiss it better.

“It’s alright, I’m not expecting you to say anything - I don’t even know why I’m even telling you, I just -”

“-wanted to vent,” you finished. “Yeah, I get it. You can talk about these things with me, you know.”

He smiled wearily. “Thank you. Really.”

A moment of silence passed, before he spoke again.

“So - was your day at least good?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, it was fine. Nothing too exciting. Just did a lot of cleaning around the apartment, to be honest. Cooked dinner, had a night in. You know, nothing crazy.”

“Are you feeling better?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah - nothing hydration and Advil couldn’t fix. It wasn’t too bad.”

You squinted at the screen for a moment, and realized he was sitting at a desk.

“Are you - are you FaceTiming me from your laptop?”

“Uh, yeah - why?”

You just giggled. “Nothing, it’s just… of course you are.”

He rolled his eyes, visibly fighting a smile. “I was doing work, and… I don’t know. I guess I just really wanted to see your face.”

You felt something warm in your chest, spreading through you until your ears tingled and face heated. You did your best to ignore it, just smiling back at him.

“It’s nice to see you, too,” you admitted. You felt a yawn coming on, but did your best to stifle it. Still, Steve apparently noticed, as his face set into a frown.

“Are you tired? I can go, if you want.”

“No, it’s okay! Seriously. If I hang up, I’ll just be on my phone for the next two hours, anyways.”

“As long as you’re sure -”

“I am.”

He nodded. “Okay. And I didn’t - I don’t want you to think I called for the same reason I did the other night, by the way. At least, not if you don’t want that.”

You felt your face flush at the memory.

“Then, why did you call? Just to see me?”

“Well, yes. And… this is going to sound stupid.”

“Try me,” you whispered, settling further into bed by the minute.

“I just - I haven’t been sleeping that well, since I’ve been here. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s just being in a hotel, but I usually get used to that after a night or so. But… maybe it’s just because I haven’t been sleeping alone much lately.”

Oh.

“Do you want me to stay on with you?” you asked softly.

He nodded, glancing down to avoid your gaze.

“Okay.”

So you did. You both just started talking, about your days, the book Steve was reading, the TV show you were binge-watching. What you did around the house that day, a quick tour of your (now cleaner) bedroom, which led to him asking about the photos pinned you your wall, and the tchotchkes on your bookshelf. You got the “grand” tour of his hotel room, which he evidently had been spending very little time in. Slowly, you began to carry more of the conversation, his responses coming slower, becoming shorter. You were both in your beds, lying sideways - he had set the computer on his lap, now barely visible through the dim light. 

After who knows how long, you realized you had been talking and hardly heard a response from Steve. You paused, only hearing his slow, deep breathing. He was asleep, finally. Your initial response was relief - he needed to be up early, and if this is what it took for him to finally fall asleep, that was enough for you. But, another small part of you was indescribably sad. Sad for the man on the other end of the call, who was still a boy in so many ways, who couldn’t spend his nights alone, but probably often did…until recently.

“Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered. He, of course, didn’t hear. Maybe that was for the best.

When you hung up, it didn’t take you long to fall asleep. Your last thought before you drifted off was of Steve, and the way he had said I just really wanted to see your face.

*******

For the rest of Steve’s trip, you two fell into a routine - he’d call you late at night. You’d chat about your respective days, just catch up. Sometimes, he’d vent about his frustrations with work; other times, he’d just keep asking about you. It was the night before he came back that it came up.

“You’ll probably be relieved to come home tomorrow,” you said.

“Definitely,” he admitted. He was ready for bed, only wearing a white t-shirt from what you could see on-camera, back pressed against the headboard of his bed. He sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “I really need a break, even if it’s just for the weekend.”

“Yeah,” you said. “We don’t have to do something on Saturday, by the way. In case you’re tired from traveling.”

“No! I mean, I want to see you. My flight gets in around 9am, so maybe we can do dinner?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” you replied, fighting the encroaching excitement at the thought of being with him again. “Just let me know.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, after a moment. “Wait, it’s Friday night - why are you at home?”

There’s an unspoken question in there: you didn’t stay home just for me, right?

You shrugged. “Robin’s out with Vickie, and - I don’t know, I thought about going out, doing something, but I just didn’t really feel like it.”

“Oh, okay - just making sure. Because, you’re twenty - if you want to do something fun over the weekend, it’s okay -”

“Almost twenty-one,” you joked, not even thinking as you said it. He paused, eyebrows raised.

“Almost? Is your birthday soon?”

You looked up, shrugging. “Oh, yeah - it’s next week, on the 18th.”

“Do you have something planned for it?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, not really. Maybe Robin and I will go out to dinner with some friends, or something. I don’t know, I’ve never been big on my birthday.”

He paused for a moment, and you were suddenly afraid that he’d ask why. But, he didn’t. Instead, he just said, “Well, your 21st birthday is kind of a big deal.”

“I mean, in the States, yes. But, I can already go out to a bar here, so the novelty’s kind of worn off. Just means I’m another year older, really.”

“But, still… it’s worth celebrating, right?”

You shrugged, maintaining an air of nonchalance.

“Sure, I guess.”

It went silent for a moment, Steve evidently starting to open a new tab and start typing on his computer.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Nothing, just… thinking.”

You just shrugged, choosing to not even worry about it. Knowing him, he was probably responding to work emails, despite it being nearly midnight. 

“You don’t want to do too much of that, you know,” you said sarcastically.

Steve scoffed, tearing his eyes from the screen back to you.

“You know, I’ve been keeping a list of all these clever quips you’ve been throwing my way,” he said.

“Oh yeah? What are you going to do with that?”

He smiled then, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Make sure I find ways to shut you up, once I get back.”

You nearly choked on nothing, ears roaring as the blood rushed to your head. Steve must’ve noticed how caught off-guard you were, the way your mouth hung open, eyes wide. He smirked, clearly self-satisfied. That alone helped you regain your footing. In a measured voice, you replied:

“I hope that’s a promise, sir.”

His eyes darkened a bit, and he smiled.

“Take your clothes off. Right now.”

Who were you to say no to that? 

******

When you woke up the next morning, strangely, there wasn’t a text from Steve. You frowned at your phone, blinking groggily. It was Saturday, and nearly noon - after spreading yourself on camera for Steve, both of you coming together with each other’s names on your lips, you had fallen into a deep, blissful sleep. Despite your lie-in, Steve should’ve touched down back in Rome by now. You had figured, at the very least, that he would’ve sent you a text with instructions for tonight.

You groaned, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, before slowly rolling out of bed. As you padded down the hallway, you heard movement in the kitchen. Robin must’ve already been awake. You prayed that she had already made coffee - if she hadn’t eaten yet, maybe you two would order something, or go out.

“Hey, Robs?” you called, stifling a yawn. “Is there coffee on? Because if not -”

You stopped in your tracks. Because, standing in your kitchen with Robin, was Steve. He was dressed casually, just in jeans and a black t-shirt, leaning against the counter with one hand shoved in his pocket, the other grasping a mug. He straightened up when he saw you, smiling.

“Oh - hey,” you said stiffly, trying to figure out if you were still dreaming or not.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Robin said brightly. She immediately handed you a mug of coffee, knowing you well enough that she didn’t even have to ask. You accepted it, eyes darting back and forth between her and Steve.

“I - what are you doing here?” you asked. Realizing you sounded accusatory, you added, “It’s just - I hadn’t heard anything, I didn’t realize you were coming over -”

“Oh, this is a surprise,” he assured, smiling. Even after a week of not seeing him in-person, you felt your heart quicken at the sight of him - how boyishly handsome he was, how he stared at you like you were the only thing in the room.

“A surprise?” you echoed.

“Yeah,” Robin added. “See, Steve asked if he could come over - wait, how did you even get my number?”

Steve shrugged. “I’ve got my ways, Buckley.”

Robin just rolled her eyes. “Well, anyway - Steve came over because, well, he wanted to talk about some stuff. Well, ask me about - why don’t you tell her?” she asked, redirecting her attention to Steve.

“Right, yeah, okay.”

He locked eyes with you, grinning. “Pack your bags, we’re leaving today, for a week.”

“Leaving? For where?”

“That’s a surprise,” he said. “But, we’re taking a trip, just you and me. And, I came over to run it by Robin, and to assure her that I’m not planning on murdering you. Which, by the way, I would’ve done by now if I wanted to.”

Robin shrugged, taking a sip from her mug.

“Can’t ever be too careful.”

You shook your head. 

“I - so, what’s going on? Why is this a surprise? And, don’t you have work?”

“I took the week off,” he assured. “In my seven years in this company, I’ve never taken a vacation. Not a personal day, anything. I’ve accrued a lot, and this is a pretty damn good reason to use it.”

You cocked an eyebrow, confused.

“What is?”

Steve’s eyes flitted up and down your form once, before settling his gaze back on yours, smiling warmly. You were still in your pajamas, and probably should’ve been embarrassed. But, with the way he was looking at you, you found it hard to be.

“This vacation, it’s my gift to you,” he said. “Happy birthday.”

*******

author's note: thanks for your patience, everyone. The next last few chapters are going to be longer, and have a lot more "plot" (aka fluff and angst). I also can't keep a taglist for this fic anymore - it's too long, which is a nice problem to have, but still a problem! To make sure you never miss an installment, make sure to turn on post notifications for the blog. Also keep an eye out for my new Steve series, coming soon. As always, thank you to Em - she knows why :)

KO-FI ♡

[princess-of-the-corner]

Entirely random digression but I ended up mussing on life swap Chloe and Marinette families and it fun how well it can work.

Dupain Cheng's:

Thanks to the support both in reputation and financing from Sabine's brother, their baker was commercialized and became a whole juggernaut unto itself which Sabine runs with a deft hand. Tom, who always had 'opinions' on how the city was being run got funding and became a powerful public speaker who eventually became mayor, selling himself as a "Friend o the working man." They are happiyl together, but very much as "Our family first" & "This is how business is done" type people.

As a result, Marinette while in practical terms kind of a class bully she is a very different type to canon Chloe. Marinette is subtle, she'll offer you help with things, even funding, but there's always something in it for her and she is a control freak once she has it over someone. Not loud and demanding, but more prone to withdraw her support and leave someone to flounder because that is how how its done. She gets the lead roles because she can provide funding for Nino's film for example and so people want to stay o her good side.

Its more subtle, but that also means its harder to address.

Bourgeois:

Andre never made it as a famous film director, but has landed on his feet working for the cities tourism board and making films and advertisement campaigns that have seen modest success and popularity. Audrey still writes for a fashion magazine but more in a support role, she gets brought in at times to provide expertise for notable projects and is respected in her field, but never really broke water into being a public persona or wealthy and powerful. They are comfortable. Also divorced cos they were high school friends who got married because "That's just what you do" and only realize it was maybe not a great idea later.

Chloe's not a bully, though she can at times be too intense and competitive for some people's liking its never out of malice. She holds herself to a surprisingly high standard because while Andre might baby her tot he point where its condescending & a little unhelpful. Audrey has higher standard, but isn't cruel, merely blunt, "You are a girl, you will have to work twice as hard for half the credit, it sucks, but its better you know that now, rather than think everything will just work out because of a positive attitude and some gumption."

Zoe likely lives with Mr Lee in America, or they got raised as sisters, not sure on hat or where I was going with this XD

See this is the kind of lifeswap I like where the nature vs nurture really shows off!

[palepinkgoat]

Weekly Tag Wednesday in which I'm enormously chatty

thank you for the tags @heymacy @mybrainismelted @thepupperino @energievie and @deedala !!!!

name: Karen

sun sign: Leo

your favorite beverage: spindrift (sparkling water with fruit juice. But I only like the lemon/grapefruit/lime etc "sour-ish" ones. The sweeter ones are too sweet for me) It's my special evening drink. I look forward to cracking a cold one every night!

what was your first pet + their name? a black cat named woody. He was probably at least 12 when I was born so I'm sure he liked me very much.

what kind of phone do you have? An iPhone but I don't know what kind. Maybe 14? Is that one?

what do you do for work? homemaker project manager/ part-time nanny

favorite vacation you've ever taken: County Clare, Ireland. We visited friends living there. One of them was writing his dissertation about Irish tourism of music and it's affect on small communities and had been really embraced by the small village. It was pretty rural but also near the Cliffs of Moher which are freaking regal. We also visited one of the Aran islands, Innis Oirr (Innisheer). Just amazing. Then we took an overnight trip to Galway, which was also fun. I never wanted to come home. I cried all the time because it was so beautiful. It was also my first time out of the country and I was a baby of 24. Our daughter's middle name is Clare in honor of County Clare. It meant that much.

how many alarms do you set for the morning? Two. I set two alarms every time I set an alarm no matter what time of day. Two alarms, sometimes three. Why yes I have an anxiety disorder, why do you ask?

do you have a skincare routine? I'm trying to use a face wash from Kiehls but usually I just put warm water on a washcloth and wipe it on my face. I can't really do anything to it or it gets mad. No multilevel routines, no makeup, no face masks. Naked.

favorite social media app that isn't tumblr: instagram

do you prefer movies or television? TV! So much creative stuff on tv. I've always liked TV. I think I like episodes and how they can be really contained. From this love I know that a 12 episode arc has Important Episodes during episodes 3, 6, and 10. If it's a shorter episode arc, it's whatever is the one before the last two.

which grocery store do you shop at most often? We are so needlessly complicated! Hahaha We have a couple box subscriptions (misfits market and a local farms basket). There's a world market here with wild amounts of produce, spices, etc where we get a lot of stuff. Then Costco. But if we need spaghetti sauce or vegan cheese and randoms we go to Publix, where we also get all 800000000 of our medications filled so we are there every couple weeks.

least favorite chore? I hate dishes until I'm actually doing them and then I'm like "this isn't so bad."

you have to listen to one musical artist for the rest of your life, and only one artist. who do you pick? So bands don't count? Because I'd pick Dark Dark Dark in a heartbeat. No? Okay. Then I'll pick PJ Harvey. Endlessly interesting and has an impressive catalogue.

[dragon-in-a-fez]

How was Antarctica? If you’re willing to talk about it! I’ve been wanting to do a trip to Antarctica (whether via employment or tourism) and am curious to know about other people’s experiences!

it was incredible. I think it precipitated like three separate early mid-life crises.

I'll tell you about my favourite moment. I was out in one of the small boats with about a dozen people, all fellow photographers, and we were rambling around this bay that was full of humpback whales, and we saw this baby - keep in mind, a baby humpback whale is still, like, the size of a small bus - playing in the water. splashing around, rolling over, acting basically like how you'd expect a human baby going swimming for the first time to act. and then after a few minutes we noticed there was another animal playing with him - a fur seal. tiny little thing by comparison, but they were clearly interacting. they'd wave to each other, mirror each other's rolls, poke their heads out of the water at the same time. two creatures who have no practical reason to interact at all, just having so much fun together. it was the purest expression of joy I've seen in my life.

honestly, the whole two-week trip would've been worth it just for those five minutes watching them.

[tinyraptorhands]

The Situation

((TW: childbirth))

"I am going to die."

Logan cocked his head, looking up from cleaning his gun. He smirked. "Rest never killed anyone, sweetheart." He looked over at you, sitting on the small cushioned outdoor swing. He sat on the porch, cleaning his shotgun. You watched him, bored out of your skull.

You sighed, your head hitting the back of the cushioned swing. "This is awfuuuulllll." You droned. You looked over at your workshop, the shed closed shut. "...Can't I at least-"

"No. We've been over this. Until our kid comes out and you are *fully* recovered-and I mean FULLY, you ain't doing a dang thing." He said sternly. You huffed, trying to fold your arms over your chest.

If the nine month pregnancy belly would let you. "I feel like I'm gonna burst." You bemoaned, poking your stomach. "This kid was supposed to be out by now..."

Logan sighed. "Yeah...can't blame ya there. Dr. Fang said you're due any day now." He set his pistol aside, and grabbed a clean cloth. He wiped his hands carefully of the cleaning residue and dirt, tossing it to the side once he deemed his hands clean. "Wei and Mi-An told me to tell you that commissions have been slow, so you don't gotta worry about that."

"Doesn't mean I don't wanna build something. I feel useless right now." You muttered, sipping on the lemonade you had made.

At least he let you do simple things like that.

"Well. You're not useless, I can tell ya that. You're creatin' a life." He said, chuckling fondly. "Pretty sure that's about as important as it gets."

You sighed. "Still. All I feel right now is sweaty, sticky and huge. Oh, and did I mention bored?" You drawled the last word, and slumped further into the swing seat.

"Your back's gonna hurt if you keep that posture up, hon."

"Shut it, you sexy yakboy, you." You grumped, and he barked out a laugh.

"Alright, alright. Let's get you inside, under the fan-"

"Logan!!" Justice ran up to the wooden gate of their home, out of breath. Unsuur followed closely behind. Logan stood up, sensing their distress.

"Whats goin' on, you two?" He asked, and you started to sit up straighter.

"Theres a buncha wild alpha yakmels over in the tunnel to Portia-and since it's mating season, they're all in a tizzy! The bus can't pass through!" Justice said.

"Plus. One also tried to mount one of the buses. I don't think that's good for sandrock tourism. I think." Unsuur added calmly.

"Ooh, some action!" You went to get up only to get a pointed stare from Logan.

"Absolutely NOT." He huffed.

"Uh, yeah. We uh...weren't planning to ask you this time 'round, builder." Justice said, scratching the back of his neck. You deflated.

"I can't even watch?" You pouted, sinking back into the swing.

"No. You're sitting here, and enjoying the day by relaxing." Logan said. "Besides. Andy is gonna come home from school any minute. Someone's gotta be here to greet 'em."

"And also, it's probably gonna be too action-packed and stuff." Unsuur added.

"Not helping, bud." Justice whispered to the granite loving man.

"Oh. Sorry."

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Justice, you're with me. Unsuur, go get Elsie."

Unsuur nodded. "Got it." He ran back into the town.

You whined. "You're bringing the whole *crew*?? It's like you want me to miss all the fun..." you grumbled. Logan looked at you, and sighed.

"Darlin'. Its a bunch of wild and angry yakmel. You seen one, you've seen them all. And I know you've taken down a bunch."

"Yeah, but I'm-"

"Bored. Yeah. I got it the first several times." He grabbed his pistol, quickly putting his bullets in. "Let me go grab a few things, Justice. I'll be just a bit." He walked back into the house. You sulked. Justice stood awkwardly for a few moments, then said;

"So...hows...baby stuff goin'?"

You shot him a look that could kill.

Justice winced. "Right. Shuttin' up."

Hours. It had been hours since Logan left. You helped Andy with his homework, then begged to go out to Auntie Vivian's place to play with Jasmine. Being the 'cool' adoptive mom you were (sometimes, that is.), you let him go play. If he slept over, which he sometimes did-especially recently, that was fine, too.

You realized you were alone.

Which meant no one to tell you you couldn't do anything deemed 'dangerous' or 'hazardous'.

Like banging out some *comissions*...

You went to the workshop on your property, feeling like you could take on the world.

But man, Logan was right. You must've sat too long, because your back felt like it was aching. Big time. You brushed it off, since you were carrying the equivalent of a large pumpkin in your womb.

And since the baby in your womb seemed to be asleep, you figured the time was too good to pass up.

And so, you rolled up your sleeves.

Time to get to wor-

The feeling of water trickling down your jeans made you pause. You looked down, noticing a dark trail running down your pant leg. "...Did I just pee myself?" You frowned.

Something in your gut was telling you no, this was not pee. You took a step forward, and then felt a small gush in your pants.

This was not pee.

"This is not pee." You echoed in disbelief.

There you were. In your yard, your monster-hunting husband was out at the Portia tunnel, wrangling a bunch of horny yakmel. You turned to Mel, the goat Haru gifted you before he left for Altara University.

"Mel." You addressed the goat numbly. "I think I'm in labor."

The goat bleeted.

You were desperate. You didn't know when Logan was coming back, but you knew you needed to get to the clinic. ASAP.

From what Dr. Fang had given you in the baby book, water breaking meant you were on a timer.

And then you realized that back pain? It wasn't from sitting wrong. It was coming in waves, along with the urge to push. "M-maybe I just have to go to the bathroom!?" You said to yourself as you saddled up Mel. The goat continued to chew on some hay, unbothered by her mistress' pain.

It was probably a bad idea, to try to ride her. But you were desperate. You tried to get up on her, but a sudden burst of pain made you scream and stumble back into the stable, startling Mel. "Mel, no-" she reared back, just in time for your reflexes to kick in as you rolled out of the way. You cried out in more pain as she ran out of the stable. "Dammit!" You cursed, trying to breathe through the contraction.

You had to *move*. You had to do something. You slowly got up. "...One...step at a time." You told yourself through gritted teeth. If you could make it at least to Cooper and Mabel's ranch, they could get the doctor and find Logan.

Logan.

Shoot.

You knew he was going to absolutely kick himself for this one. But you also knew you couldn't afford to think about him right now, as much as you needed him.

You grabbed the gate, swinging it open violently. Stumbling out, you panted. Each time you walked, you felt a throb of pain in your back, shooting down into your pelvis. "Back labor. Gotta be...back labor.." you grunted, and almost sobbed as you walked. You saw Mabel outside in her rocking chair, knitting some potholders.

Thank Peach!

"Mabel!!" You cried out hoarsely. She looked up, and dropped her knitting.

"Oh my stars! Sweetheart, what-Oh my-" she went over to you, as you fell onto all fours. "COOP! GET OUT HERE!!" She cried out, shouting in the direction of the barn.

Cooper, bless his soul, came out with a shotgun.

"Is it the Duvos soldiers again!? I came prepared this time!! Or is it finally those wolf-alien men that I-"

"COOPER!" You both cried out at the same time, yours punctuated with a groan.

"...What? Builder, what are you doin' on the ground? You lost something? And why's you leakin' outta you-" he stopped, suddenly realizing. "HOLY PEACH YER CALFIN' ON MY PROPERTY!?"

"COOPER NOT NOW!" Mabel cried out. "Go get Dr. Fang! And...Oh dear, Elsie isn't here!! Oh!!" She frowned. "Someone needs to get Lo-"

"Maaaabel!" Andy and Jasmine ran up to her. "We need a bunch of milk and-Oh!" Jasmine stopped, and Andy cried out.

"MA! YER-"

"Andy!! Go get help! Find Logan! Both of you!!" You cried out, the two kids running into the town. Cooper stood for a moment.

"...So should I-"

"GO GET DR. FANG!" Mabel yelled at him, and Cooper set off.

"Dangit woman don't yell, Peach's sake!" He muttered, running into town.

Mabel soothed you as she brought you into their home, sitting you down on their couch. "Just hold on, honey. Hold on." She helped you undo your jeans, "I've helped Dan Bi and Trudy birth their kids, I'm gonna take a look and see where you're at, is that alright, sweetheart?"

You nodded, feeling the jeans come off in a wet 'plap'. She pulled your underwear with it, and had you spread your legs.

You could see her head peek down between your legs, and she frowned. "I'd say your almost 8 centimeters! You must've been in labor all day without knowing it." She said softly. "Alright. Don't push yet! I know it seems like you need to, but breathe through it!" She rushed to the adjoining kitchen. "I'm gonna boil some water and get some towels ready!"

You moaned. "Logan....hes...I need him, Mabel..." You felt fat tears running down your cheeks.

"I know it, sweetheart, I know it. And he'll be here!" Mabel bit the inside of her cheek as she brought a pot to boil. She didn't add what she was thinking, 'I just hope soon...'

"GET ER' DONE!" Elsie cried out victoriously as Logan wrangled up the last Apha Yakmel.

Dirt kicked up as he grunted, Rambo bleeting as Logan tightened the rope around the wayward yakmel's horn. "Justice! Shoot the tranq!" He called out. Normally, he'd just put the beasts down, but Elsie wasn't having it. She had plans to move them to the other side of the Eufala, already calling in a few contacts to do so. Justice quickly shot the tranquilizer right into the beast's haunches. It slowed down, and then flopped over with a great sigh.

"Whoo! That's the last of 'em!" Elsie grinned, hopping off her horse. Logan tossed the rope to the side, and hopped off Rambo. He gave a pat to the goat's snout. "Alright. Now we wait for those contacts of your-"

"LOGAAAN!!"

The group turned to see the least likely person out in the eufala, Burgess. He was clumsily riding a horse.

"What in Peach's name is he doin' out here this late?" Justice huffed.

"Maybe he's going to council the yakmel?" Unsuur said. They looked at him. "...What? Sometimes a good scolding works wonders." Justice shook his head as Elsie face-palmed. Logan chuckled, but turned to the portly young man.

"Logan! Oh thank Peach. Y-you have to come back to town! Now!" He sounded panicked. Logan went to him, gesturing him to calm down.

"Burgess, bud. Calm yourself. Whats goin-"

"Yourwifeisinlaborandshesatcooper'sranchandshesinalotofpainandyouneedto-"

Logan immediately was on his saddle, taking off towards the town at break neck speed.

As the dust settled, everyone gaped at his retreating form. Burgess looked back, and then said, "I-I gotta go follow him! I'll see you all back at the town! Conserve water!" He said, carried. As he clumsily rode off, the three still looked at the settling dust kicked up by the steeds.

"...Did you all get that?" Justice asked.

"Apparently the builder's in labor." Unsuur said calmly.

"You would get all that, wouldn't you?" Elsie huffed. "Now we're down a helper."

"Elsie, aren't you a bit worried about her?" Justice asked, hand on his hip.

"Nah. She's tough, remember? Took on a buncha old world tech, monsters, geeglers, duvos soldiers *and* Matilda's crazy robot suit! She's probably handling this like a champ!"

"I CAN'T DO THIS! I WANNA GO HOME!! DAMMIT LOGAAAAN!!" You screeched, face red as you held Mabel's and Andy's hand.

"AAAAAH! THAT HURTS!!" Andy cried, grabbing his wrist of the hand you were squeezing.

"You *can* do this, sweet girl! You got this!" Mabel said, holding onto your other hand.

"Keep...pushing. You'll...be okay." Dr. Fang said in a calm voice, steadying your legs.

"Keep pushing! Keep pushing, CRAW!" X cried happily, sitting on the headrest of an armchair.

"AAASSSHUTUPX!!" You screamed through a contraction, and sobbed. "I...I'm dying. I'm dying!" You panted, tears and sweat ran down your flushed face. Mabel ran a cloth over your forehead, mopping up the sweat.

"I know, honey. I know." Mabel cooed lovingly.

"My hand..." Andy groaned. "S'gonna fall off..."

Suddenly, the doors slammed open, startling everyone. Logan came in, panting like a dog. "W-where's-!?" His eyes landed on you, and you cried out as another contraction took its hold.

Andy and Mabel moved away, as Logan ran over to you.

"Oh, oh darlin'. Oh darlin'. I'm here. I gotcha-"

"You took forever!!" You whined, "I-AAAUGH!" A large contraction had you bearing down.

Dr. Fang began to move quickly with his instruments. "X, get a towel."

"Caw!" The bird moved to the kitchen, grabbing a towel from the pot of boiled water.

Dr. Fang looked at Logan. "Grab her leg." He turned to Mabel. "You...grab her other leg." He looked at you as they did. "I see the head."

You sobbed in relief, knowing you were in the home stretch.

"The next...4 contractions. Push with all your....might." the doctor said, looking down. You looked at Logan.

He looked at you. You both nodded, and he kissed your forehead. He smelled like sweat and dirt, but you probably smelled worse.

"You got this, darlin'."

"I know..." you huffed. "I-I got this! I GOT THIS!"

It was something of a fever dream for you. You pushed, exactly four times. Logan was looking determined, and you could hear Andy in the background wrenching, with Mabel telling the boy not to look.

And then came the cry.

A tiny, shrill cry.

"Its a boy." Dr. Fang said, quickly placing the squirming newborn on your chest. The babe was a mess of vernix and blood, but you spotted the silver hair of your husband on his little head. And you sobbed.

"You're here...." you said quietly.

Logan's tears were silent, and he held you gently.

Suddenly, you felt a huge contraction again. You almost cried out, not making out what Dr. Fang said. "W-what??" You felt Mabel gently take the baby from your arms.

"You need to push again." He said again, his usually calm face now concerned. Logan paled, and so did you.

"W-why-"

"Theres another baby."

Before you could get over your shock, you felt a contraction. Logan took your leg, helping you push. You felt Dr. Fang's hands begin to work, reaching in.

"The baby...is positioned wrong. I need to maneuver them." He said.

"Is...is the kid gonna be okay!?" Logan asked, suddenly panicking. His head whipped to you. "What about-"

"Please. Let me work. Builder. Do. Not. Push."

Your body felt like it was being held in a pressure grip. You could feel Dr. Fang work, and Logan whispering words of encouragement and love. You gritted your teeth, fighting the urge to push.

Mabel held your baby, cleaned and now swaddled in a towel. She looked on quietly her face a mixture of concern and determination.

"Is...is everythin' gonna be okay?" Andy asked, tugging on Mabel's sleeve. She looked down.

"Yes, hon. It'll be fine. Your momma and Dr. Fang are amazing people. You'll see." She said, resting a hand over his blonde head.

After what seemed like forever, Dr. Fang suddenly said, "Push!"

You didn't need to be told twice.

In an instant, you heard another cry. You looked up, a baby placed on your chest. "A girl." Dr. Fang said, rubbing a towel over the smaller infant. You trembled, sniffling and crying as you held her. She cried, and so did Logan.

"Twins, darlin'! Y'gave me a boy and a girl! Twins!!" Logan cried softly, as Mabel handed him his son. You let Mabel clean your baby girl. You smiled.

"No wonder you were so fat." Andy commented happily. In a rare show of emotion, Dr. Fang bopped Andy on the head. "Oi! Jus' sayin'!!"

You laughed weakly.

Logan smiled at you.

You were amazing. You were a master builder. A hero of sandrock. His beautiful, strong wife, who loved him regardless of his past. You took Andy as your own, when he didn't even ask.

And now...You were a mother of three. Andy, and your newborn twins.

As Mabel handed you the baby girl, you noticed she had your hair. You smiled softly. Her little eyes opened, revealing steel blues. Logan's eyes. "Shes got your eyes." You said softly.

"He has yours." Logan leaned down to show you your son's eyes. Sure enough, he had your eyes.

As Dr. Fang finished cleaning and taking care of you, he nodded. "Congratulations." He said, bowing his head a little.

"Thanks, Dr. Fang." You said softly, voice hoarse.

"Yeah, thank you. You're a lifesaver." Logan added, coming up to him and patting his back. It made the doctor stumble a little, and he grunted.

"Yes. Well. I'll be back tomorrow. To get...the babies and your wife's vitals..." he said, and grabbed his bag. X trailed behind dutifully, crowing about needing crackers.

"Well. I'll take Andy and send him off to Viv's." Mabel said, and the boy frowned.

"Wait, I wanna stay!" He whined. Mabel tutted him, pushing him out the door. She turned to the two. "You both get some rest, I'll get Coop to help you get home in a few hours."

You both nodded. "Thank you, Mabel..." you murmured. She smiled at the two of you. Logan smiled back.

"Looks like we got alot of people to thank, huh darlin'?" He turned to you.

"Mm." You nodded.

"So...names?" He asked.

"Oh gosh. Uhm..." you sighed. "Actually...let's think about that in a little bit. I'm...really tired."

He smiled. "As you should be." He brushed a few hairs off your face. You leaned into his touch.

"I love you." You murmured.

"Love you too, my amazing wife." He kissed you softly, and you melted.

Life was pretty great.

"So...how many more you thinkin'?"

You smacked his arm. He laughed.

((Yeeehaw. Based this off my own labor. I didnt have twins though. Just back labor wheee.))

((Also Mel is fine.))