#how am i meant to get any work done under these conditions

[sidprescot]

trying to dodge major story spoilers while still acquiring secret Knowledge

[xo-cod]

OP plz i am o b s e s s e d with all the bg!Simon stuff u put out bc it's just so *g o o d*, it's my Roman Empire fr fr ✊😔😩🖤

On that note,, I'd love to see the 141 as their whole security team esp when popstar's made it really big, so reader needs /all/ the big burly men protecting her 🫣

-🔒

this was so cute!! i write this au just for you and the two other people that enjoy it frfr 🥹🩷😙 lmk if you'd like a more in depth version! :")

the way bg!ghost would see you getting anxious at the sight of his team. he might be the most biggest but his team certainly do not lack their own respective height and muscles 😮‍💨🫶

his first thought would be to immediately calm you down, he knows they all can look incredibly intimidating together

"s'ok, they're with me alright?" ghost's voice is gentle, soothing as he speaks to you

he needs a clear word to see how you are and where your head is at and when you start to warm up to the team, he's right behind you

soap, gaz and price are dressed in formal wear just like ghost, their muscles all but bulging and straining against their shirts.

a range of weapons are strapped to their waist, hidden discreetly under their blazers

each of them donning a pair of sunglasses, standing tall in their stance

you can feel ghost's hand touch the small of your back and usually under any other condition, you would've taken the time to appreciate how good it felt against you

but a set of three different eyes analyses your every movement, your breath held as you await the criticisms but there is none

to your surprise all three men crack a small smile, each one different yet almost tender in their own ways

"easy sweetheart, we're just here to help" gaz's voice is gentle, calm, trustworthy.

"yeah, you won't even know we're here hen" soap is next, removing his sunglasses as he takes a cheeky smile at you

"you'll be safe with us, we're here for your protection" price's voice is soothing, his deep voice echoing pleasantly in your ears as you take in all three men carefully

and once you get acquainted with them, you get along with all three fairly quickly

cue ghost getting jealous when you start going to them instead of him :(

but they're seriously intimidating, sometimes without even trying

whenever a supporter wanted a picture or an autograph, all four men were stiff and rigid around you. like four impenetrable walls, caging you inside safe and soundly

it was a nightmare to even use the bathroom alone

whenever someone calls your name, all four men snapping their heads so worryingly fast you'd fear they get whiplash with the way they turned

if paparazzi was harassing you, they'd just need one collective look from the 141 to back off immediately

the dominance each man exudes is different and dependant yet potent, you can tell they don't mess around with their job and the tasks they've been assigned <3

also when someone attempted to try and throw something at you, resulting in said object hitting ghost's broad chest and bouncing off to the floor in front of his feet. the man barely flinching through it all as he looked back up to the person who threw it.

ghost's eyes burning behind his balaclava, taking an intimidating step forwards

soap and gaz immediately grabbing the man by his arms, barely using any of their strength to restrain

"now you've gone and done it, huh" price chuckles but it's not the one you're accustomed to. no, this one was was sharp and cold. this meant business

and for all their hard work you, of course, spoil them. which also turns soap and gaz into little children opening presents when you get them something they had been dying for, pouncing on you for a hug

price chuckling and telling you that you didn't need to do this but you obviously bought something for him too. his heart melting as he looks back and forth from his present and then to you. bringing you in for a gentle hug and a forehead kiss

ghost watching with a roll of an eye but a hint of a chuckle, his eyes on you the whole time. though he thinks he's being neutral, you note how his pupils dilate when he's by you

for a look that's only reserved for you only, "that's my girl"

[mirobami]

How about a reader who is from the rival family of the momobami clan. The reader is extremely smart and better than everyone in the momobami clan, but she has no interest in standing up to them. Please

↳ better yet withdrawn

♥ GENRE: sfw.

♥ CHARACTER(S): bami clan.

♥ SYNOPSIS: in request!

♥ NOTE: this one was interesting i had to write it

The L/N clan, known by the Bami clan as their enemies, was nothing more than a simplified version of them. While the Bami Clan had separate branches for a variety of areas, the L/N Clan depended on a single heir. The heir was picked in each generation through a ritual. The ritual would be done on each child in order to make it fair. The child chosen would be called the Superior and the others would get to be normal.

With the newest generation, Y/N had been chosen to be the Superior. She had heard about the Superior’s training. It was extremely rigorous and an arduous process. Her curriculum differed from everyone else’s, with more subjects. The textbooks grew heavier with each passing year. However, she had been conditioned to take in all this knowledge and keep it with her. Once, she had asked what was the purpose of all this.

“In case you are ever forced into something, you have what you need.” 

She didn’t understand. Years later, she’d be entering the prestigious Hyakkaou Academy. She already knew the reputation of this school and how to gain it. Through gambling, she’d make a place for herself, only to be safe. She knew that as long as she was safe in this school, she could continue her studies. What she hadn’t known was that she entered right as the school was in pandemonium with an election. Somehow, the second she walked in, she could sense more than that in the air.

Terano had been wheeled past her, her eyes closed as she strategized her next move against Kirari. But something lured her into turning around. When she whipped her head around, she saw her enemy standing there with a blank face and curious eyes. This was the girl that her family had said needed to be eliminated on the spot. The entire clan agreed to set aside their differences when the time came to eradicate her. “You.”

Y/N tilted her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are.”

“Don’t act stupid. You know exactly who I am.” Terano had no patience for her, she needed to warn the others. If Y/N was here, it meant that everything they had ever worked for would come crashing down around them. “You’re the one taking everything from us.”

“I’m not sure how that’s possible, I have been studying all this time. If you’ll excuse me.”

That was how future interactions went with the Bami Clan. Terano had notified the rest of them that she was here. Tension ran amidst the clan and it was not, for the first time, directed at one another. They needed to get rid of her quickly. The first person to try was Miyo. She had tried to subtly poison Y/N, just like she had with Yumeko. But Y/N raised an eyebrow at her, sniffed, and said, “You have poison on you right now. Please do not get near me.”

The next person to attempt was Rin. He had asked her to gamble, but she declined, reading her book. When he looked at the cover, it was something about philosophy. Her, reading about morals? That was impossible. He asked one more time and Y/N sighed. “No, thank you. I will not gamble with you. I am asking you to leave.”

It was a fruitless attempt each time. The clan members were all getting paranoid and twitchy, thinking that at any moment, she might poison them or manipulate them into handing over their heirship. The rest of the school could see how they bristled at the sight of Y/N, who hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, she was staying right in the middle of the pack, almost under the radar but not enough so that the clan wouldn’t detect her. She found out what was wrong and why the clan hated her so much, not to mention piecing together the reason as to the ritual. She was the person that could defeat them with a single blow. They were terrified of that. If she stood up to them and helped out the school, they would have no choice but to back down.

Kirari had said that she’d take care of things. This was why she had Y/N right in front of her. “You and I have some things to talk about.”

“Really? I don’t recall doing anything wrong.”

“Our families are in dispute. You are more than capable of destroying our family. We are here to--”

Y/N let out a long, loud sigh of exasperation. She had set her bag down on the floor, crossing her arms as she leaned back against her chair. “Let me put this in a language you all can understand, because I know this message will be passed along. I. Do. Not. Care.”

Kirari blinked. The words were rude, but the tone was something different. She didn’t care about the family dispute? Or was it that she didn’t care about Kirari’s words? “Listen to me--”

“No, you listen to me. Your family has been trying to get me to do things that I don’t want to do. Miyo tried to poison me, Rin tried to get me to gamble and I’ve heard enough things about him, Terano attempted to coerce me into handing over a property of mine, everyone has tried to eliminate me or get me out of this school. I don’t care about the dispute. Frankly, I don’t care about the election either, I don’t want to be president.”

“Are you aware that you’re something of a martyr to the other students?”

Scoffing, she uncrossed her arms and leaned forward. “I’m not dead yet. I have not been swallowed or devoured in your aquarium of torture. They are putting their faith in the wrong person because I don’t care about this rivalry. Future generations can continue, but for me? I don’t plan on standing against you guys. Do what you want. Just let me study, it’s hard enough to get some quiet around here and I have to deal with interruptions?’ Y/N stood up and grabbed her bag, making her way out before she turned around. “By the way, your best strategy against Terano is not what you think it is.”

Kirari sat down, before getting back up to go to her aquarium. There, she saw an isolated fish wandering around. The other fish seemed to move away from it, some daring to get close before darting off once more. No matter how many times this happened, the fish didn’t do anything. It was docile, seemingly indifferent to what was happening. Kirari smiled. She was an interesting person, to say the least. She couldn’t wait to see what more she could bring to the table.

[j0kers-light]

Hi Chaos,

You literally inspired me to get a tumblr account. You’re work is sooooo good xx

Could you write a one shot with J and a Celiac reader ( someone who can’t eat gluten)

Thank you! Don’t overwork yourself and take as much time as you need xx

HI MY BELOVED ANON!!! 🖤✨

I feel beyond honored to have inspired you to create a tumblr! My job here is done. I cannot thank you enough for reading, so I'll keep writing! (p.s. I am terribly sorry for the wait!! 😔)

Now as for your request. I could not extend it into a oneshot so please don't be upset with me, I converted it into a head canon. Let's discuss gluten free! 👩🏽‍💻

Here is the credit I referenced as well as asking Mama!

Celiac Disease: an illness caused by an immune reaction to eating gluten. Gluten is a protein found in foods containing wheat, barley or rye.

The universe must truly hate you because you cannot digest precious bread normally. It sucks that there's no cure, but at least there are alternatives so its not life threatening.

Bless Gaia for gluten free ingredients, without it you risk weight loss from vomiting and constant trips the bathroom doing you know what. 👀

You are aware of your diagnosis so the solution is simple. Don't eat gluten.

Over the years you learned how to adapt and avoid any possible flareups and integrate new safer nutrition sources into your diet.

You are vigilant when eating out, always looking for that GF logo on menus and if its not listed, you alert the staff of your condition.

That means you typically research the restaurant beforehand to check if they cater to celiac eaters.

While cooking at home, you use special flours, avoid certain condiments, and processed foods, and you are big on cross contamination.

If someone else cooks, you are asking what ingredients they used to protect your immune system reacting.

It’s not being rude, this is your health at stake!

Joker hardly notices your condition because you tend to keep it under wraps. He just thinks you’re just very food conscious or hip to trends.

Joker will make fun of your fancy artisan bread or whenever you make food from scratch though.

The only time it becomes a problem is when Joker drinks. You already know how that's gonna go.

You weren't planning on watching the game tonight but lo and behold, the tv is on.

It was honestly just background noise until Joker came home, surprisingly to watch said game. He was already rowdy as he landed on the couch with a slight bounce.

You gave him the side eye when he cheered loudly at a score being made. "I didn't know you watched sports, J." you said.

Joker snickered. “It’s ah.. en-ter-tain-ing.”

A distinct crackle rang out in the room as Joker popped open a beer. You turned your nose at the can. You haven't had beer in years since being diagnosed.

Joker on the other hand downed it in one gulp before opening another. Of course he had a low alcohol tolerance. Why were you surprised?

You must've chuckled because Joker's green eyes were instantly on you.

"Something funny, doll?" He arched an eyebrow at you waving him off. "Its nothing, J."

"Ya want one?" He was offering you the forbidden wheat. Did he know that you were celiac?

"Uhhh no thanks. I can't."

Now that got his attention away from the tv. He seen you drink alcohol before, why couldn't you drink some today? Unless….

You could practically see the complex math symbols floating around his head. Your big baby was so confused.

“I can't drink beer because it’s made from gluten." you explained.

It still didn't click upstairs. "Didn't know you had a thing with gluten, Bunny." Joker mused.

"Yeah well, me and her got a love/hate thing going on. I'm not mindful— she lashes out and makes me sick. It sucks having a malfunctioning immune system."

Silence fell over the two of you as Joker processed what you said.

He kinda understood what you meant but he was still at a loss. You ate bread. A lot in fact.

Was it a special kind? How could you separate the good bread from the bad? Was he overthinking this? Probably so, but now he had some research to do tonight while you slept.

Joker needed to know everything about his Light.

If you were secretly beefing with gluten, he needed to know study possible tactic to join the fight and protect you properly.

“I’ll … ah protect you from the bad gluten, Bun.”

You eyed Joker after hearing his random comment. He looked so unbothered— already focused back on the game as if he didn’t declare war on a protein.

Maybe he couldn’t hold his beer after all.

You just giggled and climbed into Joker’s lap as the two of you finished watching the rest of the game.

[becauseplot]

Okay, here we go. Basic outline for the ending of 90 Seconds to Midnight AU, just so I have it on the record and it doesn't get lost to the abyss that is my brain (or DM rambles.) Tbh details of this are still subject to change because I can never make up my mind about things. Spoilers for OPD episode 6.

In this AU, Liz still goes off on her own to finish her investigation of the Desconjuração. She doesn't need any of the others getting dragged into this, especially Thiago; he's done enough fighting, and his mental state is bad enough as is. She really doesn't know what she'll find, but it'll be nothing good.

Of course, when it has become clear that Liz has disappeared, the others begin to worry. No one knows where to start looking—but Thiago knows a thing or two about her private investigation, considering he worked as her sounding board half the time, and he notices that a lot of her notes are missing from the office. With the notes she left behind and from details he can remember, he's able to track her down to the New Dawn apartments.

He doesn't tell the others or the Order because he knows she won't appreciate an intervention, and she won't cooperate if she finds out Thiago handed over information from her "private investigation." He doesn't want to stop her (impossible), he wants to reason with her.

And he tries to reason with her. She tells him to go. He stays. They argue. They can't agree. Still, he refuses to leave. Even when he lapses into the Symbol for two whole hours, left alone when Liz went to confirm something with a police contact of hers, he refuses to leave.

They argue again. It's bad.

(“For fuck's sake, Thiago, you don't get it! I DO NOT WANT YOU HERE.”

“Well I don’t want you here either! But you are so I am and that’s just how it is!”)

They both need to cool off by the end of it. Thiago stalks into the nearest room---the bedroom---and shuts the door behind him. He sits on the bed and looks at his father's pocket watch, clasp melted and warped in the explosion. (He's not even trying to deny the urges anymore; the slow circular path of the second hand is calming.) He looks between the watch and some of Liz's investigation notes on the nightstand, her frantic half-asleep handwriting all over them. Liz, meanwhile, sits down at the table with her notes and documents piled under her elbows and her mother's rain-wrinkled photo in her hands.

Eventually, Liz goes into the bedroom. She lies down on the other side of the bed, her back to Thiago. Thiago knows she likes her space; she wouldn't be in here, with him, if she didn't want to be in here, with him. No words are said, but he lies down and scoots in close and just...taps his forehead against the back of her neck.

The next morning is when the occultists abduct them.

It's important to note that Thiago's mind is hanging on by a thread at this point. After the torture and nightmares at the hands of the Escriptas, Thiago loses his feeble grip on reality and is officially at the mercy of Death. And Death takes all. He knows he's been living on borrowed time since Santo Berço. he was never meant to escape the Symbol. he was just delaying the inevitable. but he understands now. when Death comes for him, he won’t fight it. there is no point in fighting it.

What Liz sees, when Thiago is unceremoniously thrown back into their cell, is her best friend, eyes heavy and distant, face haggard, somber, older. She sits with him and tries to help in whatever way she can, trying to guide him back into awareness when she can manage it and talking to him when he’s lucid and holding his hand firmly through it all. (This concept is touched on by Inktordem Day 9.)

The group comes and rescues them as normal. Being around more people he recognizes is helping Thiago be more present, but he does drift off in the din of the crowd once or twice and needs to be hurriedly guided back so they can start picking their way through the monsters in the orphanage. (Thiago’s overall condition is deeply alarming to the boys, because even when he was lost to the Void in Santo Berço, he didn’t have such sudden lapses like these. He just seems so…tired.)

When the degolified shows up in the corridor, Thiago fully freezes. he’s right back where he started. Full circle. It’s finally come to finish him, hasn’t it.

Liz doesn’t even think twice, she grabs his hand and starts running, dragging him behind her. When it comes time, she shouts at him to help her find the rabbit doll, trying to give him something to focus on. She just has to keep him moving, they’re almost there…

And just as they’re leaving, Gal arrives.

The way I see it, he uses his ritual to bring them both up. Both of their lives were determined unnecessary for the Desconjuração. Using Joui’s sword, Gal cuts Thiago deep across the throat, then whirls around and stabs Liz through the chest, one fluid motion. They fall to the ground.

They're thinking of their parents and they're thinking of each other and they're both choking on their blood and the dust beneath them and their hands are searching, him barely finding her, her barely finding him, and the world is fading, fading, fading, it's not fair, we never got to know, we were never given the chance, it's not fair, my hand in yours, none of this ever mattered, I'm sorry, I think I love you, I'm sorry, at least I'm with you, I'm sorry, it's not fair, I'm sorry.

They bleed out into the dirt, together.

[strawbrerian-writes]

About Damn Time

This fucking thing was meant to be my contribution for @elucienweekofficial day 7 Prompt: AU. Did I get it complete in time? No. Life got in my way. Oh Well.

So here's a smutty, more plot than I meant it to have, really long Elucien one-shot. Which I am completely dedicating to @separatist-apologist for being a wonderful human and inspiring me and so many others out there.

Title: About Damn Time

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

Elain planned to have a quiet, cool day off. The universe took one look at her plans and said "bet."

Elain Archeron was convinced that a good cup of coffee could stop wars.

She was equally convinced it was a lack of a good cup of coffee that caused them.

It was 7:30 in the morning, and she was struggling. Summer was in full swing. As a landscaper, she preferred to do her work as early as possible. It was both better for the plants and for her employees’ disposition, as working conditions from eleven on in the summer were the stuff of nightmares.

The sun would be relentless. The heat would climb well into the nineties and the “feels like” would push it into triple digits. Most people would retreat to the air conditioning or find some body of water and stay there.

If the heat weren’t bad enough, average eighty percent humidity meant that even standing outside for five minutes kept her entire body soaking wet without her consent and her hair threatening to mutiny even in its braid.

The heat wouldn’t stop the bugs, though. They’d swarm, getting stuck in her sweat and biting any skin left exposed.

Elain loved it. She loved the messiness of it. The way the dirt was always cool beneath her fingers, the way the right plants flourished under the burning sun. She was made for sunny days and warm weather and mess.

She wasn’t crazy, though. Even she had her limits. Like the fact that it was 90% humidity and 90 degrees at seven-thirty with the weatherman calling for over 100 degrees by noon when she’d meant to be up and at the jobsite by six. She’d had three of her five employees call in, taking advantage of her high temps’ policy.

She usually wouldn’t mind. Had even decided last night to call it, herself. She texted all clients on the books for the day to let them know her crew would get to them the following business day and turned off her alarm.    

Until her favorite client called that morning.

The director of the public library was in a panic, begging her to get the landscaping done before the summer reading program finale. Tomorrow. It was their biggest program of the year and auditors from the state were coming in.

“We have the potential to bring massive grants if everything goes off without a hitch. We could finally start the renovations we need. I know the weather is bad, Elain, but please I’ll pay double. Out of my own damn pocket,” Helion begged, his usually rich, smoky voice taking on a whine.  

“It’s not just that, Helion,” she sighed into the receiver. “I’m down three guys today due to heat. You know my temps’ policy; I can’t make them come in. It takes four of us total to do a job that big in a day.”

“How many do you have?” he responded quickly. Elain could hear shuffling in the background and a woman’s voice murmuring. Likely his wife, who has hired Elain on several occasions to spruce up her gardens.

“Including myself, three.”

“Great! I have a meeting this morning and then I’ll be out to help. Sylva is grabbing Aodhan. He’ll meet you in, what? Thirty?” Helion was determined. She’d give him that.   

“Aodhan Vanserra?” Elain questioned. She started to gather her things for the day. She knew the moment she answered the phone she was going to go. “Is he back in town?”

“He likes to get his hands dirty, and he’s strong. Put him to work wherever you need him,” Helion said loudly. She heard more scuffling, doors being shut and then her friend was back in a whisper, “Beron kicked him out, cut him off, and nearly killed the poor guy. Do not say anything about his ear.”

“What’s wrong with his ear?” Elain whispered as well. Even though she was in a room by herself and presumably no one could hear her.

“Later,” Helion hissed, then louder, “and you’re not paying him, dear. I am. As a thank you for this. Truly.”

“I didn’t say I’d do it,” Elain lied sweetly. Of course, she had already shoved the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could pull on her brown work boots.  

“E-laain,” Helion whined, drawing her name out ridiculously, “but you love me.”

She sighed theatrically. “You know I do. You don’t have to pay extra. Just take care of your step-son and provide us with lunch and hydration.”

“Deal!” Helion’s shout was nothing short of triumphant. “Love you, too. See you soon.”  

He hung up the phone, leaving Elain standing in her living room shaking her head.

Elain couldn’t bring herself to say no to Helion.

She’d spent most of her days in that library. Helion had become one of her closest friends over the years. Before he was director of the library, he was a high school history teacher and headed up the gardening club. He was probably Elain’s most favorite person outside of her family.   

So, she threw her hair in a rough ponytail and rushed out the door. Between the two employees who agreed to work the heat and Aodhan, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad day. She’d be starting later than she wanted but with any luck, she’d been done before they all melted into plant food.

She’d do just about anything for her clients, especially Helion.

Well, except give up her morning large, iced coffee. He could wait another ten minutes. She was feeling chocolate peanut butter and whipped cream this morning.

“Elain?”

Every muscle in her body tensed. She squeezed her eyes tight, counting to three before she turned around.

Standing in line just behind Elain was her ex-boyfriend, Graysen Lorde and a very petite, beautiful woman she’d never seen before. She had beautiful ebony skin and sleek, black hair down to her shoulders. They were both dressed for work, Graysen in the gray slacks and a white button-down that indicated it was Thursday, the woman in a sleek, black pantsuit and heels.

“Graysen?”

What was he doing here? Last she’d heard he moved, took a high paying position at a new bank out west. Not to mention, he hated coffee.

“I thought that was you,” he said with a nervous smile. “You look…good.”

Elain glanced down at her clothes. She was rushed this morning, grabbing the first set of anything she could find. Which meant wearing a pair of canvas shorts with tears from work, a white tank top with a dirt stain along the bottom hem where she’d undoubtedly rubbed her hands without thinking, and an oversized green flannel one of her little sister’s friends had left behind years ago, in an attempt to hide the stains and tears of her work clothes.

“Thanks, just heading into the office,” she joked lamely. Graysen was never a fan of her “blue-collar” job. When they met, she was a bank teller working through community college. She spent her days in business casual clothing, hair always curled, and her makeup flawless.

No dirt under her nails. No sweat. No mess. No fun.

Graysen looked as he always had. Handsome face, sandy brown hair cut close, clothes tailored perfectly to his body. He looked like he’d put on some muscle, and maybe gotten a little tan somewhere.

“You’re Elain Archeron?” the beautiful woman said smiling, her voice deeper than she expected. It was almost musical. Graysen coughed a little and seemed to give her some kind of a look from the side.

Elain tried to brush it off. They had split over a year now, halfway agreeable, but she knew her ex to twist everything to his advantage. There was no telling what he’d told this woman.  

She collected herself, standing a little straighter. She brushed her hands off on her shirt. “Uh, yeah…yes. I’m Elain Archeron.”

“Oh wow! You did the floral arrangements for my sister’s wedding this past February! The Rosenbluth/Cress wedding,” the woman smiled brilliantly, her pearly white teeth shining. She seemed…genuine. She even reached out her hand to shake Elain’s.

Elain remembered the wedding. It was a Valentine’s wedding. The bride wanted every pink, red, and white flower in existence. If that wasn’t a tall enough order, she’d waited until a week before the wedding to order anything at all. A week before Valentine’s Day. Every shop in a fifty-mile radius was booked up, and no florist would take her on.

Then someone had given Elain’s name to the bride’s mother.

“I remember her,” Elain mused. She took the woman’s offered hand in a firm shake. It was surprisingly calloused – just like her own. “I’d done some floral arranging before, but nothing to that scale. It was a nice challenge.”

They moved up a bit in line. She snuck a glance at Graysen. His face was quickly losing color.  

“Oh, don’t be modest! She asked for the moon, and you gave it to her. You pulled an absolute miracle out of thin air,” the still nameless woman gushed. Elain was starting to blush. There was something so kind and sincere about this woman that it put her at ease. She just had one of those sunny personalities that drew people in. Elain couldn’t help but like this woman. “I honestly wish I would’ve known about you sooner, and I wouldn’t have wasted my money on the hack who did our wedding.”

Wait, what? Elain’s brain stuttered. She prayed the shock didn’t show on her face. Our wedding?

“Cora…” Graysen started, a hint of warning in his voice. He had a thin line of sweat beading up on his hairline now, his face completely pallid. The woman paid him no attention.

“Don’t you remember, babe? The flowers were half wilted before the ceremony was even over. It was a disaster,” Cora – his wife, apparently – went on seemingly oblivious to the sudden tension in the atmosphere. “They were sunflowers, even. Hardy things, right? Perfect for a fall wedding, but no…the guy had cut them too early, didn’t care for them properly and they were dead before nightfall.”

In that moment, three things became absolutely certain to Elain.

First, Graysen had lied to her when they broke up. He’d said they’d drifted apart, and it just wasn’t working out anymore.  

Second, he had to get married within weeks of breaking up with her. Which meant either the man who took six months deciding on which tie to wear to a Christmas banquet suddenly decided to add some serious spontaneity to his life, or ...

Elain didn’t want to think about or, because the last thing that was very clear in that moment was that this woman – Cora, Graysen’s wife ­– had no idea who the hell Elain really was.

Cora kept talking, but Elain couldn’t hear. Her heartbeat was thumping so loud in her ears she couldn’t hear anything besides her own panic and rising anger. She was vaguely aware of the line jostling her forward. Cora was still smiling, going on about the wedding and flowers and what a wonderful job Elain did for her friend.

Bile was rising in her throat. She had to get out of here. She’d send Helion out for coffee. He owed her, but she had to leave.

“I couldn’t remember if you wanted Lemon or Raspberry, so I got one of each,” a confident, low voice broke through her panic. Elain turned to the source and looked up…and up.

A very tall, very handsome man in a black t-shirt and jeans was standing beside her holding out parchment wrapped scones in one of his massive hands. The other hand held two coffees by the bottom, impressively long fingers keeping them steady. She looked farther up at the curve of his nose, those full, full lips and the familiar cut of jawline. At the rich, auburn hair pulled into a tight bun. At the long scar running along the side of his face.

Oh thank God, she knew this man.

“Babe?” he said it as a question, head quirked slightly. Elain could have kissed him. Might have, had she not been frozen in place.

“Lemon,” she blurted more forcefully than she’d meant. She grabbed the correct scone from his hand and one of the coffees, as if he’d gotten it for her. She smiled gratefully at him. “I’m feeling lemon today. Thank you, Lucien.”

His name rolled off her tongue with ease.

Lucien grinned. “A little sour today, sweet-tart?”

“Don’t you mean sweetheart?” she teased back, trying to appear effortless. Graysen and his wife were still standing there, after all, watching with interest. Though by now color had started to return to Graysen’s face.

“I said what I said,” Lucien smirked proudly. He turned to the other two. “Good to see you again, Gray.” He nodded. “Cora.”

“That explains it!” Cora exclaimed, clapping her hands cheerfully. She turned to her husband. “That’s how you knew to recommend Elain! She’s Lucien’s girl.”

Graysen’s eyes hardened imperceptibly. His ears were turning red, a sign of rising temper. Elain held her smile as Lucien stepped a bit closer to her, claiming her space. At least now she knew how Mrs. Rosenbluth got her number.

“Yes ma’am,” Lucien answered for Graysen, still grinning like a fool. “Graysen mentioned how difficult a time your friend was having around the office one day, and I kindly offered my girl’s assistance.”

Graysen’s left eye twitched. “Yep.” He said, lips popping hard on the ‘p’. “That’s exactly right.”

Elain had to fight down a nervous laugh. This all felt so absurd.  

“It was good seeing you again Cora, Graysen, but I’ve got to get my lady to Pops. You know how he panics,” Lucien laughed. He gestured to the door, arms encircling Elain and ushering her toward it. “I’ll see you around, Lorde.”

Graysen nodded curtly, Cora giving an enthusiastic wave.

“It was nice to meet you, Elain!” Cora called sweetly. Elain smiled back, raising her coffee in the air as if in a wave.

“You too, Cora!”  

When they were outside the doors, Elain turned to Lucien. “Glass doors, Elain. He’s still watching,” Lucien said, smiling widely. Elain chanced a glance through the windows and sure enough, Graysen’s eyes hadn’t left her.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, staying close to Lucien so as not to break the illusion. She looked down into her cup. “What is it?”

“It’s a Reese’s Iced Coffee, extra whip,” Lucien answered as he swirled the cup in his hand. “Which sounds absolutely atrocious with a lemon scone, by the way.”

Elain narrowed her eyes. “How?”

“Pops,” Lucien shrugged in response. He took a sip from his cup. “The coffee is amazing, though. I’ll give you that. Come on.” He motioned down the sidewalk, towards the parking lot a few buildings down.  

“Helion told you my drink order?” Elain questioned as they started walking down the street.

“Apparently you have him and mom both hooked on it,” Lucien explained. His russet eyes twinkled. “Though the scones were a guess.”   

“Oh,” Elain said softly. She eyed her scone for a minute, replaying the interaction in her head. She didn’t even know Graysen was back in town. Lucien seemed to, though. “Do you work with him?”

“Who? Lorde?” Lucien asked.

She gave a small nod.

“Not exactly,” Lucien shook his head. He wiped his mouth with the back of the hand holding the other pastry. “Different departments. Different floors. I really only see him at functions or in the gym.”

“When did he get back?” she asked. Elain didn’t want to seem like she was digging for information about an ex, but she was so thrown off by everything that she couldn’t help herself. She wanted answers. Lucien seemed to have some, at least.

“About two months ago, but I know he interviewed with Jurian back in February,” Lucien answered honestly.

“He works for Jurian?”

“Fuck no,” Lucien spat, his head whipping back and forth. He was smiling. “Jurian hates that guy.”

Elain giggled. They walked for a beat in silence before she was brave enough to ask.  

“So … did you know about…?”

“Only recently. He brought her a luncheon with my boss. He’s trying to switch out of accounting,” Lucien answered when she trailed off. “Until then, I didn’t know a damn thing.”

Elain and Graysen had dated on and off all through college. Lucien had been around for the entire disastrous thing.

She wasn’t as close to Lucien as Feyre was, but Lucien had always been an important part of Elain’s life. He’d always bought her flower seeds and pastries when she was down. He would drive her to the library on rainy days. He was at every party in college, living it up and chasing unwanted idiots off her and her sisters.

He walked with her in Feyre’s wedding, being both friends to the bride and groom. She was at the hospital with him the night of his wreck senior year.  His father was her first client when she opened her business. His mother her second.

But life took them in separate directions, Elain and Graysen got back together for the last time and Lucien just kind of…stopped coming around.

“He’s a bastard,” Lucien uttered as they arrived at their vehicles. “And he can’t hit his squats.”

Elain laughed. “Can’t all have thighs like yours Dump Truck,” she said with a smile, using his old high school nickname.

Lucien threw his head back and laughed uproariously.

“You know, I always did wonder where that shirt went,” he said, pointing to the flannel she currently had on. “Though how the hell you’re wearing that thing in this heat, I don’t understand.”

Elain looked down at it and grinned. “You don’t remember? You gave it to me after Jurian threw me in the pool at that kegger freshman year of college,” she said, ignoring his last comment. He didn’t need to know how it comforted her to wear it.

“You were in a white dress. Seemed like the right thing to do,” he shrugged. He had a lazy smirk still plastered to his face as he leaned against the side of his sedan.

“So, you do remember,” Elain narrowed her eyes at him.

“Guess so.”

“Then why’d you say you wondered where it went?” she asked exasperated. She sat her drinks down on the hood of her red truck.

“Something to say, I guess.” 

Elain shook her head. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was flirting with her. She did though. Lucien had only ever seen her as he saw Feyre, a silly little sister he had to take care of.

“Thank you, Lucien,” Elain said genuinely as she unlocked her truck door.

“What for?” he teased. He didn’t move, just stayed against his sedan, watching her with those rich reddish-brown eyes.

“The coffee, the scone, helping me out of an awkward situation.” She paused and gestured to her chest. “The shirt.”

He shrugged. “It was the right thing to do. You looked like you were gonna throw up or stab him.”

Elain giggled. “Which time?”

“Both,” Lucien chuckled. “Same look, different guy.”

“Well, I appreciate it,” Elain said softly. “Both times.”

“No problem, sweet-tart.”

She couldn’t help smiling at him. Lucien was kind. Fun. “My hero,” she said rolling her eyes dramatically. He chuckled.

She needed to leave. She needed to get in her truck, back out, and get to the library before the heat got any worse. She couldn’t make herself do it. Not with him smiling like that.   

“I’m not getting my shirt back am I?”

“It’s been six years, Dump Truck. Give up.” He laughed again. Big and bold. She liked it. “I’ll see you around?” she asked, turning to get into her truck. She had to force herself to move.

“Yep, in about ten minutes,” Lucien said with a smile. Her hand stalled on the silver door handle.  

Elain cocked her head in confusion. Lucien’s smile only widened.

“Pops said you needed help,” he said, voice low and dangerously close to making her swoon. “Looks like I get to be your hero a little longer.”

**

“Two weeks! Two fucking weeks after you broke up?”

An older woman on the treadmill three machines down shot the three of them a dirty look. Elain mouthed “I’m sorry” before turning back to her sister. “Nesta, keep it down.”

“Like hell,” Nesta spat, flicking her long brown hair over her shoulder. “I own the place. I’ll talk however I want to.”  

After leaving the coffee shop, Elain went straight to the library, followed closely by Lucien’s silver sedan. Her two guys were already there, shovels and rakes in hand. So was another man, who she could vaguely remember as being Lucien’s older half-brother Aodhan. He was shorter than Lucien, with brown hair not red. He was also missing the top part of his left ear. Per Helion’s instructions, she said nothing about it.

She’d shaken the cobwebs from her head and began to bark orders. She put her guys doing technical work, like trimming the hedges, weed eating and edging the property. When Helion came out ten minutes later, she made him get out the old zero turn he let her borrow and mow the entire lawn. The two brothers she put on hauling mulch, bags of topsoil, and garden stones.

All in all, they managed to get done in record time. Every one of them were drenched in sweat and red as a beet. Elain had never been so thankful for the heat. Her face had been scarlet for hours, ever since Lucien whipped his black top off ten minutes into the job, exposing a massive expanse of golden-brown muscle. When he commented on her flush, she brushed it off as the sun disagreeing with her pale skin.

She went home after, to shower and eat and maybe nap. Anything to get her mind off the sweat dripping down Lucien’s spine as he hauled a bag of topsoil across the lawn and the surprisingly dirty thought she had of tracing its path with her tongue.

Predictably, her mind bounced from one extreme to the other. She drifted back to that morning, and her interaction with Graysen. She couldn’t believe she did know that he’d gotten married.

So, she did what any woman in shoes would do. She wound up in a social media deep dive that was borderline stalking.

Graysen’s page turned out to be an information desert. Cora’s was also surprisingly sparse. There were lots of photos of cheerleading competitions, a few of her family – all beautiful – and a ton dedicated to a dachshund named Buttercup. Nothing actually personal.

Finally, after a good hour of deep diving into her ex’s life – something she’d swore she wouldn’t do after the breakup – Elain hit paydirt.

An obscure friend of a friend of a friend, who Elain didn’t even bother to remember their name, had posted a photo of a Graysen and Cora’s wedding, two weeks to the day that he broke up with Elain.

She read every single comment under the post. Then she put on her gym clothes – an adorable neon pink matching shorts and bra set, with a baggy band shirt – and left to find Nesta.

“You sure you can trust whoever posted it?” Gwyneth Berdara – her sister’s best friend — huffed out on the stair climber beside her. Elain liked the redhead. She was quiet and friendly, but a firecracker when pushed. She was a good foil for her sister’s outright bitchiness.

“Yeah, I knew he moved out west,” Elain managed out as she worked through her exhaustion. “Apparently, she’s from out there. I found the engagement announcement online.”

“Why bother with an announcement at all with how fast they got married?” Nesta spat. Her anger was rising, Elain could tell by the silver sheen crossing her sisters blue-grey eyes.

“They got engaged on Christmas,” Elain stated. She waited for it to sink in.   

“You broke up in September,” Nesta said finally, voice cold as ice. She slowed to a stop on her machine.

“We did,” Elain nodded, trudging on the stairs.

A beat.

“That motherfucker!” Gwyn shouted.  

The old woman on the treadmill threw her hands up and stalked off mumbling. She’d likely left to find the owner, Cassian, who would likely tell her he had as much control over his wife and her friends as he did the weather.

“Language, Berdara!” the deep voice of their trainer barked as Azriel turned the corner into the room. He stopped by Gwyn’s machine and leaned his tall frame around it, facing Elain. “Who are we calling a motherfucker?”

“Why do you get to say it?” Gwyn complained, shoving at him while still keeping pace. Azriel stepped back and ran an olive-colored hand into his black curls.

“I’m not yelling,” he stated drily. He pointed to the logo on his shirt. “And I work here.”

“Shouldn’t that make you less able to curse?” Gwyn asked, teal eyes narrowing as she glared at their trainer.

“Elain’s ex,” Nesta interrupted from the other side, still seething.

“Why do we care?” Azriel asked, ignoring Gwyn’s question. One dark eyebrow disappeared behind the black curls twisting over his face like shadows as he faced Elain. “You guys broke up over a year ago.”

“Because he lied to me,” Elain grunted, stomping at the machine, as if it were the cause of all of her problems. She was struggling now. It was one thing to think they’d broken up amicably. It was another to admit that he’d lied to her. He’d cheated on her. “He got engaged at Christmas.”

Azriel shrugged, “he moves fast I guess.” Gwyn groaned and slapped the emergency stop on her machine.

“The fucking useless douchecanoe shit stain on the underwear of existence was cheating on Elain the whole time they were together, you thick, beautiful fucking dumbass,” Gwyn snapped, shoving her index finger into Azriel’s chest to emphasize each word.

Elain slowed to a stop; eyes opened impossibly wide. She’d never known anyone outside Cassian or Rhysand to speak to Azriel that way.

Azriel was slack jawed. Gwyn was breathing heavy, finger still shoved into his chest.

“I…” he started. His voice was breathy, low, as if the words were stuck. Hazel eyes bored holes into Gwyn’s baby blues, “am so sorry Elain.”

She did not believe for a single second that he gave any thought to her. His tongue came out to swipe at his lower lip. Gwyn’s hand slowly fisted into the top he was wearing, right over the logo he’d pointed out earlier.

Elain whipped her head around to her sister and mouthed the word “when?” She discretely pointed between the the red head and the bodybuilder.

Nesta shrugged, a wide grin on her face, and shook her head. “Now?” she mouthed back.

“I feel like I’m interrupting something.”

Elain knew that voice. Had heard it all day long.

She looked away from her sister to where Lucien had walked up beside her machine.

Holy fuck.

She’d thought he looked nice earlier, shirtless and in jeans. But now���Lucien in athletic shorts was…almost better than coffee.

“No, we’re good,” Azriel said, not breaking eye contact with Gwyn. “I’ll meet you by the squat rack, Vanserra.” He grabbed Gwyn’s hand on his chest and leaned in. He whispered something in her ear and the red head actually wobbled.

“You good, Gwyn?” Nesta asked slyly.

The woman in question nodded. “Uh yeah, I just…forgot to eat lunch. Gonna go…fix that now,” she said before hopping off the stair climber. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, catch you later Gwyn,” Nesta waved her off.

Elain couldn’t help but notice that while she was talking to Nesta, she kept glancing back to Azriel. She also noticed the slight tilt of his head as he walked off.

“Okay then,” Lucien stared for a moment before shrugging.

“How are you not exhausted?” Elain asked him before she could stop herself.

Lucien grinned, rubbing his shoulder. “I’ve always had really high endurance,” he remarked, then winked at her. “Can’t help but notice you’re here, too.”

“I bounce back quick,” she quipped, unable to hide the little grin tugging at her lips.

“Hurry up, Vanserra!” Azriel called out. Lucien shrugged, nodded acknowledgement at Nesta and sauntered off to the weight racks with the visibly agitated trainer.

“When the fuck did that happen?” Nesta hissed, pointing at Lucien’s back.

Elain followed her finger to where Lucien had started to cool off at Azriel’s instruction.

Elain laughed brightly. “That has never happened. He just helped me out today at the library job. Well, and with Graysen.” She added as an afterthought.

“Helped you with Graysen?” Nesta quirked a brow.

The sisters resumed their climb. Elain wasn’t sure how long they’d be going today, she always just followed Nesta’s lead. Some days it was quick. Some days she couldn’t move when she got home.

“Yeah, he saved me from the whole encounter. Pretended to be with me, bought me a coffee and scone. Gray was starting to look like a tomato before we got out of there,” Elain smiled. Nesta gave her a side-eye.

“Pretended huh?”

“Don’t you start,” Elain warned. She hated her sisters’ meddling. From their attempts to set her up with moody Azriel, to dragging her clubbing all over the tri-county area, to one horrible incident involving a bag of flaming dog shit on an ex’s porch, she was done with letting them get involved in her love life.

“Whatever you say, Elain,” Nesta murmured unconvinced.

They continued their steps in easy quiet, the silence broken only by huffing and groaning. It was shaping up to be an ice bath kind of day, the rate they were going.  

Elain tried to get her mind off the burn in her calves or the way her sweaty hair kept clinging to her face. She kept glancing around the gym, watching the television in the corner playing basketball or trying to look out the windows at the sunset. Her eyes were traitors though. They kept going back to the weights. Where Lucien and Azriel were warming up, directly in front of them.  

Lucien had already taken his shirt off, the blue fabric flung across one of the chairs lining the back wall. His wine-red hair was braided away from his face and knotted at the top. He was wearing gray shorts.

Short, gray, athletic shorts that left nothing to the imagination. His thighs were on full display and Elain, for the first time since she’d heard her sister start calling him it, fullyunderstood why he was called Dump Truck. They were sculpted, thick and led up to an ass she wanted desperately to sink her teeth into.

She didn’t want to look at the front. She was scared to look at the front. The man had to have a shortcoming somewhere.

Nesta whistled. “You think Feyre ever tapped that?” she stage whispered, breaking the very comfortable silence in the most awkward way possible.  

“What? No!” Elain exclaimed. Lucien glanced up. He tossed her a grin and a little wave before readying himself for a pullup. She hoped like hell he couldn’t hear them.

“Oh, come on, they used to spend all that time together. They were practically inseparable,” Nesta drawled out. Had Elain been paying attention, maybe she would’ve seen the sly smirk gracing her otherwise elegant sister’s face.

“She was with Tamlin,” Elain pointed out. Her face twisted into a scowl. “Lucien would’ve never havedone that to Tamlin.”

“She wasn’t always with Tamlin,” Nesta sing-songed. “Remember when he keyed up her car? He told Jurian it was because he caught them in bed together.”

Elain tripped again. She hadn’t heard that. She’d never heard that. “Lucien admitted that?”

“No. Tamlin told Jurian he walked in on the two of them,” Nesta explained slowly. She waved a hand dismissively. “But that is just rumor.”

It better be, she caught herself thinking. She wasn’t sure where the possessiveness came from. Wasn’t sure she didn’t like it though.

“It better be, huh?” Nesta teased, answering her thoughts. Or, what she apparently had let slip through.

Lucien was breaking her concentration. It was his fault. Yes. His fault.

“What is he even doing here?” Elain tried to divert her sister’s attention. She did not want to talk about whatever feelings she may or may not have for Lucien Vanserra.

“Cass swiped him,” Nesta sighed, allowing herself to take the bait. Elain quirked a brow. Her sister pointed to Lucien. “Cassian wanted him on as an investor in the beginning. I put my foot down. Didn’t want Vanserra money if it meant being tied to Eris in any way.”

“Oh.” Elain understood that. Eris and Nesta had a … thing, once before. It didn’t end well. It was just another one of the many ways Lucien had been around forever.

“Yeah, anyway we ran into Lucien the other night at the movies. He was busy telling Feyre about how he couldn’t work out at the office gym anymore and Cass swooped in. Got a new client and Lucien agreed to a small investment in the business.”  

“He…couldn’t work out at the office gym?” Elain asked quietly.

Nesta shook her head. “Didn’t ask why. I just overhead him say he’d kill something or someone if he went back.”

He’d mentioned something earlier, but it would entirely too self-absorbed of her to think he couldn’t work out there anymore because of Graysen.

“Are you ok? Honestly?” Nesta asked, her soft voice barely heard over the whirring of the machine.

Elain sighed. “No. I’m angry,” she admitted, for the first time out loud. “He lied to me. For a very long time, apparently. And he did such a good job of it I never questioned it.”

She could feel the tightness in her chest building. She was angry. At Graysen for lying, at herself for falling for it. Strangely, there was no jealousy. She’d let that part go. Let him go. She wasn’t sure how easy it would be to let the anger go, though.

“He’s just…such a douchecanoe,” she hissed, using Gwyn’s earlier term.  

“Do you want me to stab him?” Nesta asked seriously beside her. “We’ll call Rhys to hide the body.”

Elain blinked at her big sister. Nesta slowly cracked a smile, and they both erupted into a fit of giggles. Tears of some twisted mirth sprung to Elain’s eyes.

“Thank you, Nes,” she smiled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You know Rhys isn’t mafia.”

“We don’t know that,” Nesta said conspiratorially. She winked one blue-grey eye. “And besides, even if he wasn’t –“

“Which he’s not.”

“—he’d do it anyway. He loves us,” Nesta paused for a second, smirking, “well he loves you. And he loves Feyre and Cassian both enough not to fuck with me.”

“You know one day we’re going to walk in on the two of you in matching pjs, wearing face masks and watching ‘Mean Girls’ together,” Elain sighed out rolling her eyes. She’d never understand her sister’s relationship with their brother-in-law.

“Elain, honey, you know that wouldn’t happen. Rhys and I are far more ‘The Devil Wear’s Prada’ type,” Nesta said in a faux-haughty tone that had Elain laughing again.

This was why she sought out her sister. Nesta was her rock. They lapsed back into a companionable silence, working out beside each other while watching Azriel correct Lucien’s pull up form. She knew Nesta never missed an opportunity to ogle Azriel when he was training – and unfortunately was aware of how good a night Cassian would have. Typically, Elain would be right there watching the tall, dark trainer in utter appreciation as well.

Today though, she took the opportunity to watch the muscles in Lucien’s back work.

She’d spent a large portion of her workday dreaming about those muscles. The way sweat traveled over the striations. The way she imagined they might feel under her fingers. Her core started to ache as she watched his face, reddened from the exertion, twist into a determined grimace. She could easily imagine that same face over her, working hard to keep his own orgasm at bay as he pounded into her –

“Well, you know the best way to get over someone is get under someone else,” her sister interjected, breaking Elain of her reverie.

Oh God, please don’t let her have said something else out loud.

“What?” Elain asked in a daze. Nesta said nothing, just arched one flawless brow and inclined her head towards where Elain had been focused. “I’m already over Graysen! I’m mad at the lies, Nesta!”

“So? Sex is a fantastic way to work off frustration,” Nesta crooned, reaching up to shut off her machine. “Come on, we’re done for the night. Let’s go cool down.”  

**

Elain walked down the hall of her sister’s gym rubbing her neck. Nesta had turned their cool down into a thirty-minute yoga session. She had adopted her husband’s obsession with stretching, and Elain often had to suffer for it.  

Nesta had deposited Elain in her own personal office, pointing out a small wardrobe with a handful of spare clothes. She had said that Cassian had a late meeting with an athletic director from the college looking for a better outfit for conditioning and weight training. As soon as Nesta made her appearance and went over the financials, she’d be free to take her sister out for drinks.

“And hopefully find you a rebound,” Nesta had added with a wink.   

Elain had passably cleaned up. Nesta’s clothes always fit a little loose in the chest, but this dress was a wrap, thankfully.  

“The place is really lovely,” a low, melodic voice drifted around the corner up ahead of her.

Elain blinked for a moment. She vaguely recognized that voice, but she couldn’t quite remember where from.

It had been a long day.

“You said the locker rooms are this way, right?”

“Yes ma’am, let me show you Mrs. Lorde,” Cassian’s booming voice carried, maybe a little louder than necessary. As if he wanted to be heard.

Realization dawned on Elain just as the shadows of two people, one tall and bulky the other petite and lithe, became visible.

Nesta’s office was in the same hall, right past the locker rooms. Nesta had been in a meeting with Cassian and some athletic director.

Elain had been in Nesta’s office.

Oh shit, Cassian was trying to warn her.

Oh fuck…Mrs. Lorde.

Elain had glossed over it in the woman’s bio, the little tidbit of information irrelevant as she was too busy hunting for evidence of Graysen’s infidelity. But it was coming back to her now

All the photographs of smiling cheerleaders – smiling college cheerleaders.

Cora Lorde was the athletic director of the cheer department at the local college.

Cora was Graysen’s wife who seemingly had no idea her husband had been leading a double life.

Cora was walking down the hallway that very second to look at the locker rooms.  

She saw a foot round in the corner and ducked into the nearest door.

Straight into said locker room.

Someone else was in there, too. She was vaguely aware of hearing the shower running as panic overtook her hearing.

She squeaked for just a moment and survey the room for the best hiding spot. As she wasn’t flexible enough to fold herself into the lockers, the shower stalls were really the only place available. Surely the woman wouldn’t want to check the conditions of the stalls.

She ran to the closest shower stall door, shoved it open just enough to slide into and quickly closed it, throwing the lock into place. She released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She was in the clear.  

She kept her eyes on the door and threw her hands out behind her. She intended to back into the corner of the stall, hug the wall and wait for trouble to pass.

Only, her hands didn’t hit the cold tile she was expecting. Confused, Elain spread her fingers along the surface. It was hard and wet and warm…and hairy.

“Fuck me,” she moaned. This was not her fucking day.  

“If you insist,” the fleshy, hairy wall behind her murmured in a familiar, smoky voice.

Great. She’d ran into the wrong locker room.

Elain twisted around, coming face to chest with Lucien, again. She meant to tell him to keep his hands to himself, or to scream, or do something. Instead, she stared.

And stared.

Lucien was naked. Completely naked, all that glorious golden skin on display and so close if she stuck out her tongue she could trail it along his chest like she’d been dreaming about all day. He was also wet, water droplets running the length of that powerful body. His broad shoulders blocked the spray from hitting her directly. His hair was loose and drenched.

Elain was in danger.  

“As fascinating as this is, I don’t think for one second you’re in here to actually fuck me, Elain,” Lucien said. This close she could see his chest vibrate with his words.

It caused a small stream of water to dislodge from the dip of his collarbone. Elain’s brain, which was already working at half capacity, had finally short circuited the second she realized she was standing in the stall with a naked Lucien fucking Vanserra.

She didn’t hear what he said. Couldn’t hear anything. All of her senses, all of her focus was on that single stream of water flowing down, over his chest into the dips and ridges of his abs, down further until it got lost in the line of red hair trailing down to the edge of what could only be described as the most beautiful dick she’d ever seen.

Lucien’s dick.

Lucien’s very erect dick.

Lucien Vanserra’s very erect, very large dick that was an inch from touching her hand.

“Holy shit,” she breathed. Elain’s legs chose that moment to finally give out, too.

Strong hands shot out to grab her arms, steadying her. He immediately angled his hips backwards to put space between them. Not that it did much good in such a small stall.

“Never had that reaction before,” Lucien chuckled nervously. He cocked his head. “Are you good?”

No, she wasn’t good. Right now she couldn’t decide if she was doing great or she was delusional. How is it that someone that handsome, that kind, that…fucking wonderful also had a dick like that. The universe was not fair.

She couldn’t look away from it. Even though Lucien was trying to angle it away. She felt like a creep, a drooling pathetic creep but … hot damn.

“You’re going to give me a complex, Elain,” Lucien joked shyly. Elain nodded.

“A god-complex,” she whispered reverently. How long had it been since she’d been with anyone? It was Graysen she remembered, at least two months before the breakup.

“Did you just call my cock a god, Elain?” Lucien said astonished. His large hands shook her shoulders gently, breaking her line of sight with his member. Her brown eyes immediately snapped to his. He looked equal parts amused and concerned.

Elain parted her lips, she meant to reply. Honestly, she did. But she heard those familiar voices carrying into the locker room. She jerked around, out of Lucien’s hands and peered down. The shower door would hide their bodies…but not their feet. There was a gap about a foot wide, and this was the first stall in the locker room. If anyone looked, they’d see two sets of feet.

“What is going—”

Elain cut Lucien off by jumping him. Literally.

She scrambled up his tall body, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and locking her feet together behind his waist. Lucien’s hands darted to thighs to keep her steady. He opened his mouth again and Elain began to shake her head viciously.

“COVER YOUR JUNK!” Cassian bellowed. “LADY COMING IN.”  

Both of them whipped their heads to the door. Lucien angled his body, trying to keep the water from hitting Elain too badly.  

“You sure you want to see in here? We try to keep it looking decent, but the guys can be animals. As you can see both rooms are roughly the same set up,” Cassian’s voice, back to a normal level, still carried as he spoke.  

“You said this room had an extra ice bath?” Cora’s voice floated in. Their footsteps were louder, closer. They were standing just a few feet away.   

Lucien’s eyes went wide in understanding. He adjusted his grip on her, keeping her flush against him. She dug her fingers into his shoulders.  

“Yes ma’am, right this way,” Cassian continued, footsteps carrying him right past the shower stall.

Elain trembled, burying her head in Lucien’s neck. A large, strong hand came up to rub soothingly on her back.

“I don’t have too much longer,” Cora said. Cassian’s footsteps halted. “But I wanted to see, you said this room had a sauna but the women’s doesn’t?”

“Not exactly. It’s a co-ed sauna,” Cassian explained. “Both locker rooms exit into a short hall that leads either to the sauna or the pool.”

“Oh! I understand now! How fantastic!” Cora exclaimed. Elain heard her clap her hands again. “I hate to rush you, Mr. Marcellus but I do need to get out of here.”

“Of course! This way, please.”

Elain held her breath as their footsteps retreated, their voices getting quieter.    

“You good?” Lucien whispered in her ear. She shook her head, finally releasing her breath but not raising from his neck.  “Want to get down?” A pause. Then she shook her head again. He smelled good. She wanted to stay there.

If she got down, she’d have to face the fact he was naked. That she very much liked that he was naked. That for some reason the universe decided she would be the pincushion they’d poke today, and all she wanted was to be held.  

Then preferably held down and fucked by that big, beautiful cock nestled under her ass right now.

So, no. She didn’t want to get down.

“To be honest,” Lucien began to murmur, one hand still running the length of her spine while the other was wrapped around her lower back for support, “I thought I’d have to at least take you on a date before I got you to shower with me.”

Elain looked up cautiously from his neck. Chocolate brown eyes met deep russet. He was smiling. “Y…you thought about taking me on a date?” she asked. Her brain was still mush, still struggling to catch up.

“Elain,” he said her name slowly, reverently. She liked the way his lips moved with the syllables, the way his tongue flicked his teeth on the ‘l’. “I’ve wanted you since the day Jurian threw you in that pool.”

Wait…what?

“Wait…what?” she whispered. Lucien’s responding grin was nothing short of foxlike.  

“I’ve been crazy about you, Elain Archeron, since the moment I wrapped my shirt around you. It was the first time you smiled at me. Just me. I’ve been a goner since. And when I saw you in it again today…” he groaned. She felt it as it bubbled up his chest.

“I smiled at you before that,” she whispered again, afraid if she spoke any louder, she’d wake up from this dream.

“Not like that. Not like I was something…special. The only goddamn man in the room. Not like I was your hero,” he rasped out. He was struggling with something. Elain realized she’d been subconsciously rocking her hips against him in the tiniest motion.

“I already told you that you were,” she smiled, rocking her hips gently once again. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Lucien shut his eyes, a muscle in his jaw feathering. He was barely hanging on. “You kept getting back with Lorde.”

Elain’s heart skipped. She brought her small, calloused hand to his chin and tilted it down until he opened his eyes. She hoped to convey everything in her look because words were beyond her. “I’m not with him now.”

“No…you’re not.” Lucien’s eyes fell to her lips, barely a breath separating them.

Elain held his chin, her thumb coming up to caress his bottom lip. “I would’ve chose you,” she breathed against his lips. “Had you said something, Lucien, I would’ve been yours.”

“Elain…” he breathed her name against her lips, the feel of it somehow more erotic than if he had kissed her. His chest was heaving with his breaths, so deep and uneven.

She leaned in, as close as she could without touching. “What are you going to do now?”

Lucien answered by kissing her softly, barely a brush against her lips. It sent lightning down her spine all the same. “I’m going to do exactly what you asked…if you’ll let me.”

“What I asked?” She was breathless, delirious. Her hips still rocked gently into him, his hands now guiding the movement. When had they gotten there?  

“When you ran in here…now sweet thing, can you remember what you said?” Lucien teased, voice barely more than a rasp. A smile tugged at the corners of those lips.

She nodded. Oh, she remembered.

Lucien tsked, tapping her thigh with one hand in warning. “Words, please.”

“Fuck me,” Elain demanded, loudly.

“With pleasure,” he growled.

It was an unleashing. Lucien turned, slamming her against the back wall, water now spraying down on the both of them. His mouth slanted over hers, full lips sucking her bottom between the two. She opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss, his tongue claiming her mouth for its own.

He pinned her against the wall with his hips as his hands roamed her bare skin, pulling and tugging her dress open to give him more to touch. One hand ran the length of her body, skimming the side of her breast, her neck, her ear before delving into her golden brown locks and yanking her head back so his lips could wrap around her pulse and bite.  One calloused hand slipped under the fabric of her dress, sliding up and up her thigh until it rested on the curve of her ass, kneading the the flesh there.

“Sweetheart…where are your panties?” He breathed against her neck, tongue slipping out to lick a long stripe up to her ear.

Her giggle turned to a moan. “I…I don’t wear them to the gym.”

Lucien’s answering groan was nothing short of pornographic. He wrapped his large hand around the sweep of her ass cheek, squeezing and spreading while his pelvis ground into her. She could feel that cock, now somehow sandwiched between them. She’d been too delirious to know how it had gotten there. Until that moment her hands had barely left his shoulders or left the tangle of his long red hair.

She had to feel him. Had to touch him. The urge was overwhelming.

She reached down, fingertips skimming the top of the rounded head of his cock. He was weeping at the slit. She gathered the liquid with her index finger and used it as lubrication, rubbing it around the sensitive head. The tip alone was large, the length of him thick and long. She was fascinated with the silky, hard feel of him.

Elain relished in the strangled cry Lucien gave into her neck as his mouth worked her pulse there. She wrapped him in her hand and began to pump. He jerked, once, twice in her hand. She squeezed a bit tighter, made another pass around the top when his larger hand snaked between them and stopped her. He gently pried her hand off him.

“I’m not going to last,” he breathed heavily next to her temple, “all day…all my fucking life I’ve been dreaming of this. There’s no way … I won’t last if you keep on.” He began to lower her feet to the tiled floor.

One calloused hand came up to cradle her cheek, running his thumb along her jaw. The other ripped the last tie holding her dress together. The dress finally fluttered open, revealing her sun kissed skin and total lack of undergarments.

Lucien groaned. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he growled. He bent down under the spray, taking one peaked nipple in his mouth, nipping and sucking. The other he took in his hand, kneading and pulling at the flesh until Elain whimpered.  

She reached for him, but he angled his hips away again. “Nuh-uh,” he mouthed around her breast. He took one long, biting suck before pulling off with a pop. “Give him some time to cool off before I embarrass myself, sweetheart.” He moved his head to her other breast. “Give me some time to appreciate these gorgeous tits, huh?”

She nodded, bringing her hands up to tangle in his hair, nudging his head back towards his intended goal.  

Taking her lead, Lucien’s mouth descended on her previously neglected breast and went to work keying her up. He alternated between flicking the nipple with his tongue, nibbling at the soft flesh, or downright sucking it. His hands stroked down her sides, skimming her curves, nails grazing as he worked up and down. The sensations were intense, overwhelming. She’d never come from nipple stimulation alone, but…fuck.  

One hand slipped between her legs, long fingers slipping between her folds. The second his finger hit the slick of her his head pulled away from her chest and came to rest against her forehead.

“You are so fucking wet,” he moaned, eyes shut tight. “Is that for me?”

“No,” she lied breathlessly. “Watching Azriel work out got me all hot and bothered.”

“Yeah?” he asked, cracking open his eyes. His fingers didn’t stop their slow movements. Up and down the seam of her, not once touching her clit or her opening, carefully avoiding where she wanted him most. “You’re such a pretty little liar.”

“What makes you think I’m lying?” she tried to sound offended, but his teasing fingers stole her resolve.

“Azriel wasn’t at the library, Elain,” he chuckled darkly, his eyes boring into hers. “I saw how you kept looking at me when I was working.”

“How…how was I looking at you?” Her breath hitched. She tried to move, twist her hips or grind or do anything to get him to touch her where she wanted. She pulled his hair, raked her nails along his skin, but he was steady. Undeterred.

He dipped his head down to the curve of her ear and whispered. “Like you were in that weight room. Like I was a piece of fresh meat.”

“Felt…objectified, did you?” she whined. He pinned her hips back against the tiled wall with his free hand. Lucien nodded sardonically, parting his lips to no doubt give some asshole response. “Want to know a secret?” she interrupted him, voice shaking.

She leaned up as close as he allowed her, her lips grazing his jaw. She’d never been good at dirty talk. Graysen had hated it. She had no idea if Lucien would find this hot or tell her to shut up. “I had to take my panties off in my car after the coffee shop.” He went still, breath frozen in his chest. “I’ve been so wet for you all day, Lucien, that it’s been rubbing me raw,” she moaned, laying it on a little thick but he seemed too far gone to notice.

She took a deep breath and nipped at his jaw. “So won’t you please stop with the teasing and just fuck me already?”   

Lucien said nothing. He trembled in her arms for a moment, as if to collect himself. He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes again. She could’ve sworn there was literal fire staring back at her. In one swift movement, with no warning, Lucien filled her with his long middle finger. His pointer and ring finger held her open while he twisted slightly, crooking that middle finger and dragging it down inside her.

Elain nearly screamed. He quickly covered her mouth with his own, swallowing the sound. His tongue swept in, licking the length of her mouth while his finger pistoned in and out, dragging down with each thrust. It was incredible, but she needed more. Felt so selfish that she needed more.

She wiggled her butt and Lucien obliged, adding another finger, stretching her deliciously. She could feel how tight she was around his fingers; how great the stretch was. She knotted her fingers in his hair, tugging, keeping him against her.

He'd moved in closer, no longer angling himself away. He ground his cock against her hip for just a bit of his own relief as his fingers dragged her closer and closer to orgasm. She reached again for him, and he grabbed her hand, pinning it over her head, lacing their fingers together. Lucien shook his head against her, a clear no. He delved his tongue back in her mouth.

Elain moaned obscenely as he began to fuck her mouth in time with the fingers fucking her cunt. He devoured it, drinking in her sounds like a dying man. Just as she began to tremble, that weight in her core building and building, Lucien thrust in a third finger, scissoring the three a bit, stretching her beyond anything any man had ever done. He was readying her for his cock, she realized.  She was almost a goner right then with that thought.

Then Lucien ground the heel of his hand against her swollen clit as he thrust those fingers one last time. Her released slammed into her harder than she’d ever felt before. She saw stars. Every muscle in her body contracted, her abs caving in on themselves, her legs shaking uncontrollably. She may have screamed. She’d opened her mouth but either no sound come out, or the pounding of her heart in her ears was so loud she could hear nothing else.

Lucien hauled her against him, holding her tight between him and the wall, stroking her sides in soothing gestures as she started to come down.

“You with me?” he laughed shit-eating grin spread across that handsome face.

Elain nodded deliriously. “H-holy shit. Holy fucking shit. I’ve never … never…” she trailed off, head shaking, legs still trembling. Lucien laughed again, the sound the sweetest thing she’d ever heard.

“Should I stop?” he murmured before he kissed her gently one more time.

Elain shook her head viciously. “I’ll kill you,” she hissed, nails digging into his shoulders. “If you fucking stop now, Lucien Vanserra, I will kill you.”    

Lucien erupted in laughter beside her, his whole body shaking. The movement rocked through her as well, and Elain was acutely aware of him still holding her up and open. He had been lining up his cock against her entrance, the tip she had been playing with gliding through her slick. Now, he was holding back. She tilted forward a bit, dragging her still quivering cunt over the head.

“I don’t have a condom, Elain,” he whispered tightly, moving his hips so his cock ground into her slickness broadside, giving her delicious friction. “I am clean though. Haven’t…haven’t in a while, and I’ve been checked since.”

“I’m on birth control,” she said quickly. “I get checked once a year. I’m good.” She was going to die if he didn’t get inside her.

Lucien grinned, lining them up, leaning down to take her mouth in his as he slammed home with one powerful stroke.

Oh fuck…

Oh fuck…

“OH MY FUCKING GOD, ARE YOU SERIOUSLY FUCKING IN MY LOCKER ROOM RIGHT NOW?” Cassian voice thundered through the locker room.

Elain froze up, her pussy clamping down so hard on Lucien’s cock they both had to bite the other to keep from screaming. One hand shot passed her head to steady them as Lucien’s legs began to shake.  

What did she do to the universe? Was she a puppy killer in a past life? Did she burn down a village full of orphans? Had she stepped on too many cracks and her dead mother was torturing her from beyond the grave?

“I’m running a gym, not a goddamn whorehouse, Azriel Singer!” Cassian swore, walking passed their stall. “Vanserra’s showering in here for fuck’s sake.”

“LUCIEN WAS LISTENING?” a high-pitched voice squealed from somewhere further down.

No…no way. There was no fucking way that this was actually happening.

Elain knew that voice.

She bit Lucien’s shoulder harder to keep from making noise. Her body trembled with silent laughter, sending vibrations through her core, which felt so…fucking…good. She just couldn’t enjoy it. Lucien made a small, strangled sound as his hips seemed to involuntarily jerk forward. She felt his cock jump, his body tense and his release fill her.

That fucker just orgasmed.  

She tried to look at him, but he was hiding his face in her neck. She shoved at him. He raised up sheepishly, golden skin nearly as red as his hair. A rush of fluid escaped her as he gently pulled out but didn’t set her down. I am so sorry, he mouthed.

“I didn’t know shit!” he yelled, voice cracking. Elain held on tight, trying her hardest to fight off a grin. Lucien looked like he was slowly losing it.    

“Get out Cassian,” she heard Azriel growl. “No one’s going anywhere with you standing in here.”

A low huff. “Works for me, just stop fucking in my gym!”

“We’ll stop when you stop,” she heard Azriel yell as footsteps retreated out of the locker room. Elain sighed, slumping against Lucien. Poor Lucien, who was still trying to avoid eye contact.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” Azriel called out again.

She froze again, inadvertently clawing Lucien once more. His eyes finally met hers. “The fuck you mean?” Lucien asked for her, just as freaked as she was.

“You’re pretty loud, Elain,” the woman said with a laugh.

Elain and Lucien untangled from each other. Lucien wrapped a towel around his waist, his still flagging cock still large enough to tent the fabric. Elain wrapped her wet dress back around her, long enough she figured until she could reach the towel rack.

They stepped out of the stall.

Azriel and Gwyn were standing there, both with mussed hair and angry red marks, sharing satisfied smiles. Azriel still had the rope of one of the spa robes tied around his wrist. “Looks like you had fun,” Lucien remarked, no sign of the embarrassed man from a moment before.

Azriel’s grin threatened to split his face. Gwyn just brushed her leggings off, a little self-satisfied smirk playing on her own face.  

Elain couldn’t say anything.

She was suddenly hyperaware of everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. Lucien being quick off the mark. Her own powerful orgasm – which apparently, she was screaming—and the fact she used Azriel’s name while Lucien had his fingers on her pussy.

Yup. She had to have been a puppy killer in a past life. She wondered if she passed out right now, if everyone would forget they heard anything at all.

“It’s totally cool, Elain,” Gwyn laughed, laying a delicate hand on her partner’s shoulder. “Azriel makes me horny all the time.”

“I’m going to die now,” she moaned. Lucien wrapped an arm around her, possessively, pulling her into his side. It was comforting.

“Nah, don’t be embarrassed,” Azriel said in a near sickly sweet tone. He was such an ass when he wanted to be. “It was a good line.”

“How come we didn’t hear you?” Lucien asked, trying to throw attention off of them. His face was slowly returning to its normal hue.

“I gagged him,” Gwyn stated, matter of fact, shrugging her thin shoulders. “And having a twin sister constantly around means you learn to be quiet.”

Elain and Lucien just stared in confusion. She couldn’t speak for Lucien, but Elain just had so many questions. She opened and closed her mouth a few times. She felt like a fish gasping for air, but she just couldn’t make the words come out.

“We were fucking in front of the security cameras,” Azriel answered their silent question. He pointed to the other end of the locker room. “There’s a camera on the storage room on the other side of the lockers. We’ve got equipment in there there Cass wants surveilled, so no…we aren’t pervs with cameras in the showers. It’s not even really in the locker room.”

Elain cocked her head. Honest to God that thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. “Why in front of the cameras?” Lucien asked for her, pulling her in a little closer.  

“He ate your sister out on my desk last week,” Azriel stated plainly, turning to point at Gwyn. “She just fucked me on a new machine he has to assemble.”

“You’re evil,” Lucien chuckled. “But we owe you one.”

Azriel nodded. “I want Eris’s address.”

All three heads turned to Azriel. Even Gwyn looked at him skeptically. “Why for?” she was the one who asked. Lucien quirked a brow, awaiting the answer as well.

Azriel shrugged. “He pisses me off.”

Elain and Gwyn traded incredulous looks. Gwyn opened her mouth, no doubt to tell her partner how stupid he sounded, when Lucien began to nod. “Totally reasonable,” he muttered approvingly. “I’ll text it to you.”  

“Good man,” Azriel tugged at Gwyn’s hand. “Round two?” Gwyn’s answer was a smirk that could only be described as devious.

“Cassian and Nesta are going out for drinks,” Elain offered as she wrapped her arm around Lucien’s waist.

“Fuck yes,” Az said laughing, dragging a giggling Gwyn out of the locker room.

Elain turned to Lucien, “so…”

“I was already so hyped up, and you were so tight – oh my god Elain I’ve never in my life … and then you laughed. Do you have any idea what that feels like when you laugh?” Lucien began rambling. His eyes were wild, and the pink began to creep up his neck. “I’ve never done that before…I swear I –”

“Lucien!” Elain finally shouted, grabbing him by his chin once again. She gently urged him to look at her. “It’s ok. Just…what now?”

Lucien stepped closer, until she had to tilt her head back to see him. He smiled sheepishly. “I meant what I said. I’m crazy about you, Elain.”

“And I meant what I said,” she said breathlessly. “I really do think you’re my hero.”

“Come home with me?” Lucien urged, hugging her to his mostly naked body. “Let me make it up to you.”  

“For the night?”  

“Forever.”        

[toon-bunny]

Cathal head canons!!! I'm crazy about this guy so please be warned that there is a LOTTTTT under the cut

voice: Andrew VanWyngarden. soft tone, high pitch, speaks kinda slowly, little bit of vocal fry. breathy/hiccup-y laugh. definitely has that muffled synthetic sound like the in-game voice too

speaking sample (please ignore the weird title, this is just a good compilation)

singing sample (I don't imagine them singing, but I do like the voice effect here and the cadence)

personality: extremely perceptive and smart. friendly, light-heartedly sarcastic guy with a metric ton of non-emotive autism. it's kind of deceiving? because when u think of non-emotive autism u think of a guy who never smiles or changes pitch but Cathal is passively very smiley and has a laid back demeanor. very interesting guy to me. he is VERY passionate about his interests, they just aren't indulged/taken seriously by others so it's believed he just doesn't give a fuck about anything. that and they're still not very animated when infodumping

background…

very alienated from living kind of outside of the cogs lifestyle. not that he should be pitied for not having to work, but how do you live and socialize in a culture completely dedicated to work when you don't Do That. but I think he would have odd friendships with other sellbot managers and probably some others

they have a good relationship with dad of course. I like to think that Allan Gets him and doesn't give him a hard time for his perceived lack of passion or anything like that. but giving him a very cushy job and continuing to encourage him w/ said job that doesn't interest him is just how Allan thinks is the best way to support him. I don't remember where I read this but I love the idea that Allan isn't emotionally getting anything out of his job either BUT he's better at masking that and believes he will if he keeps doing his best - it's "supposed" to feel good. sorry wait this is just me thinking about Allan

I do like the idea that, in addition to this job not really aligning with Cathal's interest, they also dgaf because no one would take them seriously in this position anyway even if they DID try. not only do they look silly and non-serious, they'd still be resented for having this position even if they proved they were qualified for it. so it becomes a feedback loop. I'm basically making a ton of reasons as to why he acts the way he does in canon which might seem excessive when ONE trait would explain it alone, but I really like when there are a bunch of experiences/symptoms/etc that foster a particular behavior/outlook and can't be untangled from each other

I think he likes TV shows because they kind of fill the void of connection with others… cartoons kind of endear them to toons but also whenever a character that represents someone like him shows up, they're 1) malicious and greedy, fat as shorthand for capitalist monster or 2) a selfish, stuffy nerd who's meant to be ridiculed by the audience. so no, liking cartoons doesn't necessarily make him more sympathetic to the toons' cause or push him to help, bc he's led to believe he also doesn't have a place in their society

all of the above points also make them a little intimidated by activism and seeking a better life. I think he got cornered into a particular brand of quiet nihilism. I am definitely inspired by this song

in terms of disabilities and conditions…..chronic insomnia from snoozing and lazing about all day, not getting any energy out when it's appropriate. CFS like crazzzzy. autism of course. and also ADHD's brother, cognitive disengagement syndrome

hobbies/interests…

expanding on their canon interest in TV shows, I'm handing my luv of animation to them, but I also think this is the type of guy who could watch scarier stuff and just enjoy the artistry of it. as in "oh wow those practical effects are so well done" (guy who's unfazed by the horrors). (I'm so jealous of this I want to have this ability)

I think they'd like retro games more than I do, he seems like they'd enjoy a good GBA title. maybe roguelikes and metroidvanias, stuff that could be considered tedious and punishing to some but a really fun and rewarding way to waste time to others. he's got a lot of time on his hands to metaphorically bash his head against the wall with more difficult titles ykwim?

this bit's inspired by my friend's AU Toon After Time, I can't undo the association between them and tech knowledge/know-how LOL. I knowwww he collects VHS tapes and other old equipment and can also troubleshoot anything to do with old TVs, VCRs, etc

other details…

I KNOWWWWW it's so cliche to give the cogs tails but I can't help it I LOVE ROBOT TAILS. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH. plus I love the idea that if cogs have tails, they are prehensile, but Cathal can't even be arsed and just lets it drag everywhere so it's all worn out and torn up from getting stepped on/caught in stuff. I also like the idea of it flopping VERY slowly once or twice if they're happy. like a very old dog wagging its tail

inspired by this post by bunglefication, I love the idea that Gizmo is treated well by Cathal and is more like a service animal to them :D so awesomes

bc my friend suggested "closet femme Cathal" once I am now 100% sold on Cathal dressing at least a little more femme at home 🌈 likes to get cutes with it for funsies. other than that, I like the idea of 90s tech guy/TTRPG guy type clothing for them. like imagine a Best Buy employee or Blockbusters employee in the 90s do you see my vision

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: It's Not the Fall (It's the Landing)

To save each other from Heaven and Hell, Aziraphale and Crowley become human. Things, predictably, do not go as planned. Crowley thought about what he’d come there to do. He thought about what it meant, in the context of God’s warning. Really thought. There wouldn’t be hopping from restaurant to restaurant with his best friend for the next six thousand years (give or take). There wouldn’t be any more miracles, or tempting. There wouldn’t be any skirting Hell’s wrath for eternity. And when it was over, the deepest, darkest, horriblest pits would be reserved for him. Crowley said, “Will you make me human, too?”

Length: 66,731 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit / Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: At Home, One Sitting, Angst, Canon AU

Triggers: Temporary Character Death, Alcoholism

Read it here, fic by Ginger_Cat

*Minor Spoilers* Alright buckle up, this one is insane! This has to be the craziest, most unique plot I've read for Good Omens. Every moment just punches you into a different direction. I found myself just going, "what the fuck? what the fuck?? WHAT THE FUCK??" I'm not even going to try to summarize the plot, there's too much to say and I think you should go in as blind as possible. Just trust it, let it whisk you away on this journey.

This isn't a dark fic necessarily, it ends in a very good place, but there are moments that were pretty brutal. It pushes Aziraphale in particular to places we don't usually see him. He is the reckless impulsive one here. At first his actions seem super out of character for him, but trust the process. There is more under the surface and an explanation for his behavior. By the end I was so excited about this characterization for him. Crowley, poor dear, goes through the ringer here. He slips up and confesses his love and suddenly his entire life is flipped upside down. Kind of literally? At any point he could have just said, fuck you guys I'm done, but he doesn't. His love for Aziraphale and humanity keeps him in the fight, even though I wouldn't blame him for turning to resentment.

Excellent dialogue, it really brings a lightness and humor to scenes that keeps everything balanced. The side characters are also top notch. Even Gabriel get's his moment of redemption. Pacing is lightning fast. You have to pay attention and keep up or you will get left behind. I think this could have used a little more breathing room in some areas, but it's a want more than a need. It's not a negative that it moves fast is what I'm saying. If I could have added time anywhere it would be to Chapters 15 and 16 because I am so intrigued by the concepts there. I could read an entire story of Aziraphale in those conditions (I really don't want to spoil).

I think based on how fast paced this gets, it should be read at home. There are a couple smut scenes, but it's really an at home read for the plot. And I would make the time to read it in one go. There's just a lot of threads that I think would make it difficult to leave and come back to. Plus you aren't going to want to stop! I didn't! I only planned to start it, but suddenly it's 3 AM and I've finished it. What a wild ride! A joy to read for that alone, but it's an excellent work of redemption and the lengths they will go to for love.

Read it here, fic by Ginger_Cat

[absolutleyynot]

The other post is private, not deleted, but someone wanted a properly detailed explanation, so I'm posting this again. However, I will delete the other post as I really don't want to get into a back-and-forth reblog game for very obvious reasons. And as Sybil—oh, pardon, I meant @throwaway45166—asked, here's the full reason why no one should commission from Flymarlo:

DO NOT COMMISSION HER @flymarlo!!!!

As an example, there was a GIF set of Wang Herun that was ordered as PRIVATE and provided via a private link. As you can see, it is no longer private and can now be found on this PUBLIC link (its on her blog please I am lazy), despite being PAID for as a private GIF set.

proof:

(and that was provided by herself I can show full screenshot of that once I am home)

commssion people who are worth the money and are not scamming you instead. AND NEVER PAY WITHOUT PAYPAL BUYER PROTECTION AS A PAYPAL EMPLOYEE I CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH!!!

I strongly advise against commissioning any GIFs from @flymarlo. Despite glowing recommendations from some friends, who suddenly post in her name to tell how awesome she is (she is not). She offers "private" and more expensive GIF packs, claiming exclusivity for these so she can make them more expensive, but then resells them without permission. Essentially, she's been reselling property that rightfully belongs to her customers, all while lying about it.

Chargebacks are already in order & she reported her for potential tax evasion through PayPal because this kind of deceit has no place in our community. She charges extra fees for supposedly exclusive content, only to turn around and sell the same GIFs to others. The private packs you purchase are supposed to be yours alone, yet she treats them as her own personal profit source. When confronted, she refuses to provide refunds or remove the GIFs from public access and instead resorts to blocking customers to avoid accountability.

Sybil insists on payment upfront for her work but spins false narratives to deflect blame when issues arise. Her excuses are implausible, and we're pursuing a refund through PayPal. This is a significant warning to anyone considering working with her. She even charges extra for "priority" commissions but fails to deliver on this promise, often using your private GIFs to promote her blog without permission.

She’s recently tried to cover her tracks by claiming that she had money stolen from her, but we can prove otherwise with our screenshots and transaction records and even screenshots she herself provided to us.

Our requests were simple: either make the GIFs private again or refund our money. Instead of resolving the situation, she blocked us, avoiding any responsibility.

I am an paypal employee. As an example, she sold four GIF sets to a friend through my PayPal account since who cares. She then provided a "private link" to these sets (screenshot above), which she resold to about 20 other people. After squeezing out as much profit as possible, she started distributing the content publicly to promote her subpar work. Now that people are calling her out, she's getting her friends to post positive things about her. However, no amount of positive posts can erase the fact that she is a scammer.

I've initiated a refund chargeback with PayPal and will share the outcome here to ensure everyone knows the truth about her fraudulent behavior. Do not trust @flymarlo. She is a lying, deceitful thief.

DO NOT COMMISSION SYBIL – SHE WILL RE-SELL YOUR THINGS.

Explanation and proof as requested:

To clarify the situation, there were multiple transactions involved:

4 Private GIF Packs bought in 2 transactions all paid and delivered: These were four fully paid gif packs commissioned, consisting of 4 gifpacks by Sybil. They were explicitly paid for under the condition that they remain private. (see proof above) The transaction was closed and done with, with payment upfront (which is fine but many do the mistake to send as friend and family and that is another thing I want to warn about) & they were also finished upon the delivery of 4 links to the 4 private GIF packs. However, these GIFs were re-sold and published publicly (see above) without consent, violating the agreement she herself puts on her blog.

Situation 2 happened: not at all related to the transactions which were arleady finished above, Sybil had already created gifs from an actor of a popular tv show. Someone asked if she would post them, and she replied that she would only do so if someone paid. The idea of it was discussed but not finalized to my understanding (I have the screenshot of that at home on my laptop). Sybil then proceeded to post these GIFs without waiting for payment, acting as if there was an agreement when there wasn't. Because as you can see in her guidelines, she only consideres a commission when it is paid for. As a result, she decided to publish these gifs publicly, without payment, on her own. However, she now used the private GIFs from Transaction One as a "punishment" for a transac to re-sellf and for promotional purposes, which goes against her own terms and conditions.

These were 3 totally different transactions not related to one another and one payment does not influence the other payment. Hencefore Sybill broke not only her own contract, but also law and guidelines of paypal, which she now was reported for and a chargeback was claimed. Mind you I do work indeed for Paypal and our chargeback teams are heavily overworked so they do take up to 6-8 weeks as normal chargebacks from banks would work.

Either way I am not fully aware of what was discussed with these gifs I only got one screenshot if sybill which I cant access right now (its on my pc) where she already posted & provided the gifs without prior payment. and that is NOT how she works. she always works with payment upfront so it was her own doing of providing these gifs publicly (it is an open source gifpack as much as I can see) but yet after she publicly shared those gifs of Harry.

SYBILL WAS GIVEN TWO REASONABLE OPTIONS: to refund or to private those gifs again. She refused. So the provided third option was excecuted and accordingly to our guidelines and law, have taken the appropriate steps by reporting the issue to PayPal and providing evidence which will fall back on her paypal record, as most of ther sales are probably done (I am very sure of that) as friends and family, paypal will get suspicious of the many in and outs and the very big family she has and our tax evasion office will look into it as well.

The outcome will depend on PayPal’s investigation and the documentation provided. Paypal will rule in our favour of course as that is law and community guidelines but many MANY people (and please people STOP doing that) pay for commissions or similar as friends & family as they are asked to, and these people, when scammed, sadly have no chance to receice said money back. So while I do not worry about our chargeback, I will take it upon me to a) let people know to NEVER pay commissions as friends & family and b) know about how Sybill works.

As it is (where I am from at least) illegal to share private converations with people, aside of the small snippet from above, without her permission, I am not allowed to spread such outside of court or bank cases. And I am not stupid lmao. (us citizens, gdpr and privacy is actually a thing and not a hoax I promise)

As a worker at paypal, and also as an legal analyst on top, let me remind you of 2 things, law & paypal user guidelines:

By Law

Contract Law and Intellectual Property:

Breach of Contract:

When you commission a creative work, a contract—either written or implied—is established between the commissioner (you) and the creator (Sybil). This contract includes terms agreed upon by both parties, such as exclusivity, use rights, and privacy.

If the agreement specifies that the commissioned GIFs are for private use and should not be shared publicly, publishing them without consent constitutes a breach of contract. You could potentially claim damages for this breach.

Intellectual Property Rights:

Typically, the creator retains the copyright to their work unless explicitly transferred. However, the commissioner often has exclusive usage rights, especially if the work was paid for under the condition of exclusivity. Unauthorized public posting can infringe upon these usage rights.

Fraud and Misrepresentation:

If Sybil misrepresented the nature of the transaction (e.g., claiming the GIFs would be exclusive but then reselling them), this could potentially be considered fraudulent misrepresentation, giving you grounds to seek legal remedies.

PayPal Guidelines

Buyer Protection:

Service and Goods Transactions:

PayPal offers Buyer Protection for goods and services transactions, which means if you don't receive the item as described, or if there’s a significant misrepresentation, you may be eligible for a refund.

Since the GIFs were commissioned as private and exclusive, and if they were not delivered according to this description, you may file a dispute and escalate it to a claim.

Dispute Resolution:

PayPal allows for disputes to be filed within 180 days of the transaction. If unresolved, it can be escalated to a claim, where PayPal will review the evidence from both parties and make a decision.

The process may involve providing documentation, such as the original agreement, proof of payment, and evidence of the public posting of the private GIFs.

Digital Goods and Services:

While digital goods can sometimes be tricky to dispute, PayPal has policies in place for such transactions, especially when there’s a clear breach of the agreed terms.

Reporting Fraud:

If there’s suspicion of fraud, such as tax evasion or misrepresentation, users can report it to PayPal. PayPal may investigate accounts that appear to be violating their policies.

In this situation, the right steps have been taken by reporting the issue to PayPal and providing evidence to support the claim. The outcome will depend on PayPal’s investigation and the documentation provided. If PayPal rules in your favor, you may receive a refund. If not, you might need to consider legal action, especially if significant damages have occurred due to the breach of contract.

So back to human language, be happy I am at work or else I would not be in work brain - nevermind. Sybill had the option to handle this nicley, she decided to deny and block so now paypal will deal with it.

There also is a screenshot regarding the harry gifset but again, cannot do without her permission (even if she was the one sending it to me) but no no no no no no

either way, here is the long ass version and now I really have to go back to the office. people, please, never send your commissions as friends and family only, rather pay a little more in fee and be save.

[arcanescionmoved]

SHIPPING INFO: Caitlyn Kiramman.

ANSWER THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR MUSES SO PEOPLE KNOW HOW SHIPPING WORKS ON YOUR BLOG.

Tagged by: @misfits-of-zaun, @misstantabismuses, @independentzaun, @saviourofzaun Tagging: @hxundsprxdigy, @freedomsbounty, @legendscried, @bioniczaunites, almost everyone has done this already so XD

1. WHAT IS YOUR OTP FOR YOUR CHARACTER?

I won't lie, I absolutely love Caitlyn x Vi (violyn, what a pretty ship name), however, I feel liek saying OTP means I'm exclusive to such things? Caitlyn and Vi are soulmates in my eyes, they will always be meant for each other; however with roleplaying, there is so much more we can go into. And that includes OCs!! So while I love this ship, I am not exclusive to it and that's all I'll write.

2. HOW LARGE DOES THE AGE GAP HAVE TO BE TO MAKE IT UNCOMFORTABLE?

Caitlyn is around 25 years old (In her Baroness verse its conditional. could be 25 as well or older as 35/38). I would say the most I go with with caitlyn is perhaps 20 years pushing it. In reading it, I'm not bothered as long as things are tagged, but arcane is filled with very dark themes and its there. Caitlyn in IC setting would not go any further then at most 20 years difference.

3. HOW FAR DO STEAMY MOMENTS HAVE TO GO BEFORE THEY ARE CONSIDERED NSFW?

For me, I'm not troubled by anything nsfw, whether its sexual, violence, or other topics in that area. So in terms of sexual relationships, I feel like for it to be considered nsfw is when hands start moving. They could be fully clothed, but its still the groping, hands slipping under shirts/pants, even intense make-out sessions I think would all quality for being nsfw.

That being said, nsfw for me is more of a warning to those who write with me. just hey, this is getting spicy and if you don't like it turn away because I typically do write out nsfw scenes including smut. I enjoy the writing of it because its a part of the characters and their developing relationship.

In terms of violence, again, its part of the story, no matter how ugly it is. I would say nsfw in violence if blades/weapons come out, and the writing is visual it would be marked as well.

5. WHO ARE OTHER CHARACTERS YOU SHIP YOUR CHARACTER WITH?

Alright, the fun part!! So, I haven't been around much to truly establish much, but I have a few ships that I've gotten to play around with!

Naturally, I have Caitlyn and Vi, and what I love about my ships with them is like, with everyone I write with the ships are different. Caitlyn has different connections with different Vis because all writers play them differently! I first started writing with @freedomsbounty and her Vi, and we kind of changed things up where Vi didn't walk away in teh rain in that angst, but actually decided to embrace her feelings and then promised to return. So its definitely a different way.

But then I have my ship with @misstantabismuses which is far more in depth with spreading out the timeline to be longer, rather then working in what looked like 'days' in teh show. So its this first developed partnership/friends, bonding on a level of noticing each other and then in time this whole '...oh shit.... I think I like her what do I do' and exploring this sort of long-term development from work partners to friendship to lovers.

So I of course love exploring with any Vi and I'm open to it (which I hope it would be known that I would never force a ship! I do ship them but I am not going to be like 'your vi has to like caitlyn' sort of thing).

As for other ships, some I'm exploring is with my Baroness Caitlyn, she has a relationship with Jinx as well! Its definitely a unique perspective in the mirror reflection of Piltover Caitlyn being with Vi, but here Zaunite Caitlyn is with Jinx. There's also an exploration between Baroness Caitlyn and Sevika, where Sevika works for Caitlyn in a sort of 'trade off contract with Silco where Sevika is now her body guard. Fun things to play with!

I also am open to other ships not just exclusively romantic. For example, @legendscried Jayce and Caitlyn are absolutely in a found family relationship. They grew up both as misfits, both having heritage from other lands, and just overall connecting with each other and finding comfort in the other. They develop a brotherly/sisterly bond and its a very strong one. I briefly touched based with @astrxae to and the possibility of Caitlyn having a big sister in Irisa which will be fun to explore!! And then oh, Oh the twisted AU with @independentzaun where Caitlyn and Jinx are half sisters! This whole complicated mess with that and the whole "How far will you go to take care of your sister" while also, ALSO dealing with the resentment of teh past and unable to forgive and forget. And then having Vi in it with her head going 'your her half sister, i'm her half sister, but caitlyn and vi aren't related' like the mind fuckery of this whole situation is absolutely hilarious!

But yes, that being said, I'm open to trying so many things and open to exploration of all ships if we plot and play around with it!

6. DOES ONE HAVE TO ASK TO SHIP WITH YOU?

Yes. While I am open to shipping, I don't like being thrown things at with no plotting behind it. That being said, I'm very much an open communication channel, I have tumblr DMs as well as Discord (I prefer discord cause I can sometimes get obsessed and excited and write PARAGRAPHS worth of things). But I'm very much one for establishing a relationship before writing it. I like to make sure like, a character will click wiht Caitlyn and that chemistry through OOC talking.

I'm not one to be like 'we have to write 5 threads to see if chemistry works', but my form of checking on chemistry is talking ooc and seeing how one action reacts to the other and so on. If that chemistry is establish, then its ten times easier to start writing a ship.

So basically, come talk to me OOC. 99% of the time, I'm sure i'll ship, I just need to be able to talk and ramble and plot with you.

7. ARE YOU SHIP OBSESSED OR SHIP MORE-OR-LESS?

So, I don't quite understand this just because, I don't know? I love ships, but not exclusively romantic. I'm in for all the ships, whether its romantic, platonic, even antagonistic! I'm here to write and enjoy teh development between characters. So if I develop a ship it happens.

8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SHIP IN YOUR CURRENT FANDOM?

I love all my ships, I have several of them so its more, like, I just enjoy writing them! Whether its Caitlyn x Vi, or exploring the realms of other ships, I wouldn't say I have a favorite. Because all of them are my favorites, that's why I'm writing them! A few to list that I'm enjoying playing with are Caitlyn x Vi, Caitlyn x Sevika, Caitlyn x Jinx, Caitlyn x Ran, I also have my platonic ships with Caitlyn x Jayce, Caitlyn x Irisa (OC). There is also an new antagonistic ship i'm getting with Caitlyn x Neopolitian which is going to be a very of Sherlock x Moriarty which is gunna be hella fun I bet!

Honestly, if we have a ship, its a favorite.

9. FINALLY, HOW DOES ONE SHIP WITH YOU?

Message me and go 'CAN I OFFER YOU THIS MUSE!?' and then we talk. Really simple. I won't automatically say yes, but like I said. OOC communication and checking chemistry by talking.

[tanglesoup]

so i kept saying that i was going to post my oc and now i am after finding all of the art i still have saved on my phone (i have more of them i just haven’t got pictures of it all since they’re on the board that’ll be ordering back). before i give an introduction under the cut i’d just like to give the context that this was for part of my higher art project focusing on design (it wasn’t solely about them it was about a whole game) and the design was for a brand new sonic riders game that also happened to be a crossover with sonic prime which at the time had just released its first season. i’ll give more context in another post featuring other art i had to do for it but this post is about my oc!

everybody meet everett! they use they/them pronouns and they’re a snow leopard!

they live in the caves at the mountain tops of the stellar mountain range protecting their world’s prism shard known as “The Atlas Star” (protecting it similarly to how knuckles protects the master emerald of how thorn rose protects the great green). most days are spent on guard protecting the prism from the only others that they know, those others being the babylon rogues who would love more than anything to get their hands on the shard. they aren’t always alone however as they have a chao companion who often keeps them company while they’re guarding the shard and helping chase away the rogues whenever they get too close. when the day’s hard work is done however everett will sit and stare out at the stars reading them and hoping and wishing on them for good fortune to come.

it just so happens that one of these nights while hoping for good fortune that something peculiar happens to the snow leopard as they watch a blue blur crash into the evergreen forests below the mountain. i wonder what that could be…

i chose the name everett because i saw from multiple sources that it meant “brave” and felt that fit them well having to fight for their shard constantly and put the shard before themself a lot. i’ve also always associated snow leopard with being very brave animals living in the snowy and mountainous conditions that they live in naturally. the name also kind of sounded like mount everest which was also fitting.

when it came to making their design i knew i wasn’t going to go for typical snow leopard colours because this is a sonic oc we’re talking about and hedgehogs aren’t exactly blue in real life. i was either going to go with dark blue or purple spots and i, obviously ended up going for the purple to match the purple present on the atlas star. the blue colour however wasn’t completely lost as that then became their eye colour! their markings were surprisingly hard to figure out and keep consistent throughout their design but i ended up figuring something i felt was good eventually. the star marking on their forehead is really something i should’ve included from the start since everett is really closely connected with the stars (wether that be the atlas star, the stars on their gear or the stars they watch every night) but it didn’t click until later when i needed to fill a blank void on their head. the hair tuft was also another later edition, so late in fact that it wasn’t present in any of the pencil drawings of them. i added the hair tuft purely because they looks strange without having anything on their head and it turned out very cute!

their extreme gear was very simple to come up with as i just wanted to have fun and mess around with the colour scheme for their board since i was stuck without a very varied pallet for sonic and jet. their goggles are the original blue that i mixed for the sonic art i made for the front cover of the box art along with a lighter and darker shade. their gloves have textured grips on their fingers and palms to aid in climbing slopes and rocks easier and it isn’t seen here but their snow boots have paw print markings on the bottoms of them. i gave them scuffed knee pads because i liked the idea that they weren’t a very experienced flier on their extreme gear which has lead to a lot of falls on their knees during their practice attempts. even if they aren’t a good flier though they’re a very good snowboarder.

i loved designing everett and they’re probably the best thing that came out of that art class. i’d like to sincerely thank everett for getting me that B in higher art thank you. even though i don’t take art anymore i’m still going to draw everett because why the heck not, right?

[broken-hearted-butterfly]

I suppose I'm mortified, in a sense; being so seen puts me in an unwillingly vulnerable position. It also makes me feel as though I haven't done enough of a job to seem as "on top" of everything as everyone else. We've all got our shares of issues, but I also remind myself that most people don't cope with the scale or depth of my personal issues.

What I'd perceived in myself as edgy banter was perceived as a potential cry for help, at the very least as something meant to be brought to attention. I didn't see the scope of my behaviors and, while I had the dim notion of it beginning to get worse, the scale of it wasn't clear until it was actually brought up with me.

I'm reading aggression where there simply isn't any; I fear that if my service relations don't improve, my job may be at risk. It was repeatedly stressed that I wasn't in any trouble, that there was merely concern for me, but that alone left me feeling like I'd made a huge mistake. Masking isn't the right choice, as much as it would be a solution for the immediate issue; it would burn me out very badly.

The customer service persona itself makes me feel like an ass, I can't talk to a grown adult as one would a child; pitching my voice up plays hell with my dysphoria. It's so clearly fake, the enthusiasm fake, the smile fake, and yet people eat it up. I've been overly aggressive on register, playing up the saccharine to an almost frighteningly comedic degree and the actual venom underneath has never been commented on - it's in high favor with everyone I've used it on.

The communication feels like natural autism issues, magnified. Expected to read minds and interpret queries based on singular words or phrases I've never heard in my life, I feel like an anthropologist trying to navigate this job and the clients in it. I don't know if I want technician work, it's a constant flow of customer service and I already know I'm not a good fit for it. No one expresses a need for help, just a mere expectation to be catered to. Incapable, one singular item, needing a person to perform the role of a machine and treated as a machine would be.

After 5 1/2 months, I'm still living paycheck to paycheck. I just learned the days I'd taken off for a medical procedure could have been put in as sick days, meaning I wouldn't be $200 short on my current check. No one had told me. I didn't know, and no one had told me. I have another doctor visit approaching, and still have to schedule with another. I know what I likely need to help my body, I'm just not in a position to fully have access yet.

I could tell it wasn't getting any better when I realized how much I was beginning to detest coming home to roommates. One becomes aggressive when their methodology is questioned or if they're asked to attend to chores, while the other suffers under the weight of her own success - how will she be able to prepare for her 6 month internship when she has to attend a wedding and a cruise in the same month? Everyone is so loud, I just want to be left alone, and that was one of the early signs that something was wrong.

I have been offered three consecutive paid days off. I am considering the offer. I would like to be given at least a week each 3 months, just for my own sake. For my mental health, for my physical health, for my overall wellbeing.

I don't want others to see this and assume that it's the new normal and become unwilling to engage with me because they're expecting friction. They will want to avoid me.

I suppose the fact that it's become visible upsets me in part because I was taught to keep my head down and my mouth shut. I was nearly baker acted in high school once the curtains began to lift on my abuse situation, and it made the abuse escalate. Doctors seeing some conditions and commenting on how they could be due to stress, my father replying sternly that he had no idea what could possibly stress me so badly. I don't feel like I fully know how to cope with my stress - the gentle self care methodology doesn't feel fully in line with the emotions I feel. I didn't even notice my stress, telling myself to try again try again without actually seeing ways to effectively reduce my stress. Being singed out for not being able to manage it is embarrassing, even when it comes with a message of other people being willing to help. I feel as though I don't want the help, I don't want the pity. I want the pity, I want others to see the stress I'm under. I don't want to be pitied, I can manage my own self. Sometimes I wonder about that. I want the recognition until I actually receive it and then it becomes upsetting.

[wytfut]

Work Ethic

Way back in the old timey days, when I first started out with Lincoln Hoot and Hollar... Being a young man with long hair...

I’m sure I was criticized regularly behind my back on the job. Long hair was still taboo, especially in this kind of work environment, and my fellow employees with flat tops and crew cuts....   this would be the tail end of this type of critique. After I started lots of “long hairs” came to the phone company. And to top it all off, absolutely no skills for this job.

I had zero experience in much of nothing. No idea what work ethic was. My folks in my opinion were easy to roll over on my wants and needs. Yeah, I was a selfish lil bastard... and didn’t even know I was doing it. Pretty much stumbled around in life completely out of reality of what was going on. I still to this day kick myself fairly regularly when I miss obvious situations. I am not captain obvious.

But to be real... all types of work with physical labor, does take skill. A simple shovel is a worthless tool in the hands of an amateur. A 2 pound hammer becomes dangerous. And hand drills become weapons. Climbing a pole was a terrifying thought.  A guy just doesn’t pick this stuff up his first time, and if he isn’t paying attention (me) it’ll be a very big learning curve. Before the phone company, I had done nothing, as I was sheltered from anything hurtful or dangerous.

Very hard to believe knowing all of this that I made it 30+ years there. 

My first day at the phone company, I was still under the impression I was going to be a mechanic (job I applied for). Quite the mental shock when hauled out to a job site, and I ended up rolling up “sod” all day, in a school yard.

Being a “long hair” and zero experience, I’m sure now the words were flowing from my fellow workers.

This line of work was hard physical labor. Much of it I couldn’t accomplish... mostly because I didn’t know how to do it let alone the strength of a 135 pound white kid. It had to get on everyones nerves. And I was far from a common sense kind of guy to be able to figure this out quickly. 

My first couple of years at the phone company, I was likely guy that none of the crews wanted. If I were to work on a crew, it most likely meant more work for everyone else, as I didn’t know NOTHING.

Thank goodness I was ignorant of my surroundings, and just stumbled thru it all, not knowing how it all really worked. Because of my oblivious ignorance, it didn’t bear down on my self esteem, .. um depression?

Must have been part of growing up... I don’t know when it happened, but from my memory, it wasn’t until the early 80′s that I was actually becoming accomplished with real skills. I was becoming a asset to the crews I was working with.

By the time I retired, new names were coming my way. Dinosaur, old school, old guard, etc. ...   you can decide whether these titles were compliments or not.

In the 90′s I became the Climbing school school instructor. I had some great assistants. I built the curriculum, and the actual physical structures, with help. Doug Schaefer, a fellow old school guy, and Ryan Koch a new employee fresh out of Norfolk linesman school. I don’t know how I got this position, but maybe Mike Michel thought I had the right temperament for it. And knew I’d do my very best at making it work to everyones benefit. I like to think that.

In this period at the phone company,  part of becoming a part of the construction dept. at LTT, you had to “experience and partake” in all forms of work, for a couple of months. And part of that, was working on the Aerial crew (climbing). 

We had a large run of new young guys with no experience with this type of work.... physical labor.

By this time I was was totally enjoying my career, well experienced, highly skilled in all the construction skills, with exception to splicing.

I never did understand the interest in that line of work, and I was never any good at it. Why would I want to do that, when I’m in excellent physical condition, especially for 45+ years old. I could outwork/climb all the new young guys easily.

Comments were in hushed tones “he climbs poles effortlessly, while my Dad the same age, can barely get out of his chair”. “how does he do that???”  “I can’t keep up with him” etc. etc. etc. 

As an instructor, and working side by side with these new guys on jobsites... I witnessed a few things that I still think about to this day.

Some of these guys wanted nothing to do with physical labor. Especially if they could get the very same money sitting on their butts splicing wires all day. 

And a lot of these very same guys had zero experience... just like me 20 some years before.  No skills. Don’t know how to “jump in and help”. DON’T KNOW THAT THEY DON’T KNOW. And there they were.. 

But there were a few, that trickled thru, with amazing natural skills, that adapted so quickly.....   made my head swim. Maybe their ethic was developed thru genes? Family events? 

Its very easy for an old guy my age and others to GROUP the whole age group as being “worthless” “no work ethic” “idiots” etc. etc. 

Not really sure where to take these examples of my life time. Maybe to explain that there are thru time always unexperienced guys. But as an old guy it appears there are more now than then? Scares me in the future. We will always need people with those skills.  

Today, I still chuckle when I see someone younger than me grab a shovel, with absolutely no idea what they are doing. Grab a hammer, and I flinch. 

[chefturnedtrainer]

A Birthday Reflection: When Celebrations Feel Hollow

Birthdays are supposed to be a time of joy, a day to reflect on another year lived, and ideally, feel celebrated by the people around you. But this year, my birthday was anything but joyful. It was bland, uneventful, and—if I’m being honest—disappointing. I spent half the day working remotely, and after lunch, I made the decision to go offline to spend time with my wife and daughter. Despite this, the weight of the day hung heavily over me.

In an age where we’ve become conditioned to social media validation, I couldn’t help but notice the silence. I received fewer than 50 greetings on Facebook, most of them from acquaintances or distant relatives. Two were from coworkers, and two others from my siblings. A couple of phone calls came in, but they were from distant family members. The absence that hit hardest, though, was the lack of any acknowledgment from my parents or my sister who works abroad. Not a single message or call from them on my birthday.

It stung, but not in the way it used to. It was more a dull ache than a sharp pain, and that’s what concerned me the most. The truth is, I’ve been distant from my family for years, starting around 2015 when I began being left out of family gatherings. Each time I expressed hurt or tried to distance myself, I was branded as uncaring. The irony was that during times of financial crisis in the household—when my parents struggled to pay for electricity, food, or other basic needs—I stepped in to take care of it, no questions asked. I didn’t do it for recognition, but deep down, I wanted to be acknowledged for helping out. Unfortunately, my efforts were never seen or appreciated.

My father, in particular, has become a sore point in my life. He often compares me to my sister, who sends a significant amount of money every month to support their lifestyle. "Kulang kulang hapmilyun," he says, referring to the half a million she sends regularly. Meanwhile, I am constantly reminded of how little I contribute in comparison. It's hard not to internalize that, no matter how much I’ve done or continue to do.

The lies and broken promises only add to the strain. Earlier this year, he told me he couldn't send the house budget, so I covered it for the time being. He promised to repay me, but the money never came. I even bought a second-hand car, under the impression that repairs and a repaint would be covered by a mechanic he recommended. Turns out, there was no such agreement. To top it all off, the car I actually wanted—an old white Honda Civic that I’d driven for years—wasn't even an option. He refused to sell it to me, preferring to give it to a relative or scrap it entirely rather than let me buy it. Why? I still don’t know.

In just a few short months, my relationship with my parents has deteriorated. I’ve stopped pretending, stopped forcing smiles or pleasantries for the sake of peace. It’s a strange dynamic—being financially supportive of people who refuse to acknowledge your efforts or even treat you with basic respect. I’m still living at the family home, mainly because I haven’t finalized paperwork to get my own place. But I worry about what this environment will teach my daughter. Will she grow up thinking that this animosity is normal? Will she believe that this strained relationship with her grandparents is just the way things are?

This birthday wasn’t just a reminder of getting older; it was a stark reflection of how much has changed. A year that should have been filled with celebration felt hollow, not because of the lack of a party or grand gestures, but because the relationships I once relied on have frayed beyond recognition.

Maybe the lesson here is that not every birthday is meant to be celebrated. Sometimes, it’s just another day. But I hope as I move forward, that I can create a new kind of celebration—one rooted in the love and support of my wife and daughter, and not dependent on the validation I once sought from my parents or social media.

[mallahanmoxie]

i'm combing through the letters of thomas carlyle for various purposes (one of which is that i love him much and find his on heroes fascinating but it's all i've read of him besides his letters, i have yet to pick the sartor resartus, perhaps that would take me out of my reading rut, they say it's good; the other is, of course, just plain old work -- mentions of the 1851 exhibition) and jane welsh, his wife, is just like me fr fr. i also cannot find it in myself to answer my damn messages.

When I got your last note, I meant to answer it by the next post, but what I mean to do is precisely the last thing I get done, any thing, every thing rather than that! Of course the fault is in myself and not in my ‘contrairy’ circumstances—if I could rid myself of the weak notion that I am too bothered or too wearied out, for doing this or that for writing to you, for instance [...] Dont suppose, like a dear Babbie as you are and will always be for me, that there is any thing more in these long silences than a defective condition of my volition, the result in great measure of general ill health I am sure; for long ago, whatever thing I had in my mind to do, I did and the more hindrances, the more haste [...]

and then--well that's just relatable in general

Oh Babbie! how I wish it had not been your idea to pitch your tent in the “valley of the shadow of marriage”—it is a very relaxing air I am sure and peculiarly unsuitable to your constitution— But certainly i am not the best authorized person to tell people how they should manage their lives under that head of method having made such a mess of my own life—God help me!

Jane Welsh Carlyle to Jeannie Welsh, May 11th, 1851.

[ninjaghostdev]

My Neurodivergence

Hi 👋

This feels a little melodramatic, to be truthful. But I just wanted a place to write my thoughts down.

I’ve been on a hell of a journey lately, a lot of it discovering the quirks that make up my process, what interests me and why, and discovering all kinds of outcomes. But there are two major discoveries about myself I’ve only just learned in the past couple years. For the record, I am almost 38 years old as I write this. Had I any clue about these quirks, I wonder how different my life would have wound up.

The first major discovery:

ADHD.

I can hear the groans from all the way over here.

These days this “disorder” is a ton less scrutinized but when I was growing up no one had any idea what it really meant, hell there are movies that point out the super weird hyper kid in the corner who can’t keep his motormouth shut as simply “that’s the kid with not just ADD, but ADHD; steer clear of that nut case”. Not so anymore, as the condition has become so normalized these days it’s now seen as an endearing trait in media and they’ve even removed ADD altogether, merging it into a general “ADHD” umbrella.

3 years ago, I came across a simple YouTube short entitled “ADHD Simulator” and not 10 seconds in my jaw was on the floor. Every, SINGLE, frame showcased exactly what I’ve considered just normal brain doing normal things but painted under the light of.. maybe this isn’t normal afterall.

You mean to tell me… that there are people out there that DONT have a song playing in their head 24/7? They also DONT have 2 to 6 different conversations speaking over that music? They also DONT have that constant nagging voice speaking directly to you at all times reminding you of shit you were supposed to remember hours ago? They also DONT have another voice cracking the whip constantly reminding you to get shit done? All simultaneously? You mean there are people out there who can look at a task and just get the task done and not need to worry about getting 2 or 6 other tasks done first before they can get to that one? How do you just DO the dishes and not completely clean the kitchen first? I can’t even fry eggs on the stove without making sure every counter top is free of clutter that could get in my way first.. but then doing that might not leave much room for getting the dishes done.

See that’s the thing is it’s not “OCD”, it’s a need to break tasks down into smaller more manageable chunks but then the number of chunks adds up into something overwhelming. And when the mind of ADHD gets overwhelmed it shuts down or simply loses interest and off to the next thing we go. What passes off as laziness or slacker type behaviour being unable to focus on the task at hand winds up simply being a case of not enough time in the day to get all the foundational stuff done first.

Are you the type of person who can reasonably work on long term projects and be perfect happy? Then there’s me when I finally hit a challenge I’m either uninterested in overcoming or find it overwhelming to get to solving and just find myself starting a new project instead.

The more and more behavioural analysis I do on myself as I look back at my own history of decisions, big and small, and looking at how I dealt with situations and how things wound up the way they did.. every sign points to ADHD.

But ok, maybe that’s just confirmation bias. Maybe I’m looking for excuses to brand something on myself as a scape goat. So I turned to my family to ask them about it. We got my brother diagnosed back when we were teenagers, why not me? Turns out.. a lot of what I’m asking about my mother confessed to also having. Turns out, maybe the reason I thought I was more normal than I was was because by sheer coincidence almost everyone I lived with growing up also had it and didn’t realize it.

The name of the disorder also didn’t help to knock me off the scent. Because I’ve never had a problem paying attention to things. But that’s of course not what it really means. Sure makes my resulting grades in school make a lot more sense. A+ in the subjects I had even a passing interest in and teetering near D for everything else despite trying my actual best. Turns out people can still get decent grades in subjects they don’t care about because their mind isn’t constantly wandering off to something more interesting at the time.

So what does all this mean? Let’s play advocate for a minute and say I do have (undiagnosed) ADHD? What’s different now? Nothing.

Nothing changes. But, it does provide a ton of introspective insight into how I work, and I can try to work with that. I do plan to get officially checked for it, so I can definitively say one way or the other. But until then, if I could get the chorus from Weird Als Like a Surgeon on infinite repeat out of my brain so I can get to sleep already, that’d be great.

Aphantasia

No not the thing Bruce Willis has. That’s Aphasia.

This one’s a bit harder to nail down.

Where did you land on that scale?

Because to me? I sit someone between 4 and 5. I know what an apple is and what it’s supposed to look like. Can I visualize one in my head? Ehhhhhhhhhh. It gets tough. I have just about 38 years of life experience with working eyes to draw from. Like I said I can define the general appearance of an apple. Can I visualize one in my head right now? If I’m being honest, not really. Like it’s extremely vague to non-existent, likely best described as just abstract colors I’d like my apple to be.

Ross O’Donovan, aka RubberRoss, the animator, describes his own experience with it, as an artist and animator. Interesting right? How can someone illustrate.. without being able to visualize it in your head first? It’s a fair point, and that’s when Ross dropped the bomb on me: despite the fact that he can’t visualize a character like Goku in his head, he can define what shapes make up the character, and the rest comes down to what he called “muscle memory” from having drawn the character (usually from reference) so many times.

Suddenly, a massive aspect of my own life made sense, one that I didn’t even knew needed to be made sense of. I was watching that video and suddenly asking myself… wait.. other people walk around with photogenic pictures in their head of the thing on their minds?

I’ve always struggled with a blank canvas. Not just in the “I don’t know what to draw” kind of creative block, but in the.. even if I wanted to draw Sonic i dunno I know he’s blue and got big rectangles down his back and big red. Sites.

As a professional full stack web developer it’s got me in some.. interesting situations, where someone’s asking me to design a page… I’ve always had to work with designers for such situations. Once I got the mock up, I can crack my knuckles and get to work with the integration with convincing accuracy. But I needed that mock up first, you know?

This one’s still rocking my world a little. And I’m still trying to find some more information about it as time goes. Like, when I’m awake there’s nothing there but the ever increasing audible loudness of the conversations and looping music and of course whatever problem my brain has allowed me to focus on at that moment… but when I’m asleep, while there’s often nothing at all until I wake up, sometimes, occasionally, I dream very vividly; the dreams that stick with me after waking up are often very grounded in reality, with only a few exceptions in my life time. They’re things that can very much happen, and involve those who I have seen in real life. But the second I’m awake, poof.. gone.

Ok, it’s 2am now. I think my eyes are getting tired. Time to get some shuteye.

PS. Star Ocean Second Story R kicks ass.