#i can absolutely go into excruciating detail but i will spare everyone from that for now

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

fly me to the moon is stancore

rises the moon is fordcore

[lasting-inkpressions]

Burning Up [1/4]

Summary: When she applied to be the secretary for managing partner Rosé McCorkell, Denali hadn't expected to end up working for the biggest pain in her ass, nor did she expect anything beyond a professional relationship.

Word Count: 4,365

Note: Originally titled "Work Wives".

Prefer reading it on AO3?

Denali stood in front of the familiar panelled wooden door, a brown leather folio clutched to her chest and a fresh cup of coffee in her right hand. She was dressed in a cream sleeveless blouse and a black pencil skirt finished off with nude heels. She stared hard at the frosted glass with a name embossed in gold lettering across it.

Rosé McCorkell, one of the three managing partners in S. Child, a top law firm in New York City. She was also a major pain in Denali’s ass for all of the six months that she had been here as her secretary.

Steeling herself for her usual morning meeting with her, Denali took a deep breath, knocked on the door and waited. Seconds later, she heard the usual clicking of stiletto heels on hardwood floor before the door opened to reveal the woman that was her boss.

As much as she was a pain in the ass, Rosé McCorkell was undoubtedly a stunning woman. Standing tall in her black heels, she wore her auburn hair in perfect curls, dressed in a form fitting navy power suit with the blouse unbuttoned just low enough that Denali could see the deep curve of her cleavage. Catching herself before she stared for too long, she snapped her gaze back up to Rosé’s face and plastered on a smile, hoping that the other woman hadn’t noticed her staring.

“Good morning, Miss McCorkell, I’m here to go over your schedule for the day.”

Rosé stared back at Denali for a moment, causing the younger woman to squirm a little under her gaze, before deep red lips stretched into her trademark smirk.

The same smirk that drove Denali absolutely crazy for reasons she didn’t want to think too deeply into.

“Of course you are, come in.”

———

7 months ago.

Denali sat outside the interview room, waiting for her turn to go in. She was surrounded by other young candidates, each of them looking well groomed, neat and manicured. Most of them were in blazers, suits, the whole shebang and here Denali was dressed in a simple white blouse and black dress pants, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail with black pumps on her feet.

She hadn’t really thought too much about it when she had come across the ad and applied for the position. She just needed a job after graduating from college, but now she wasn’t too sure on whether she had made a mistake applying to be the secretary of a managing partner at S. Child. Denali had thought it would be an easy job. After all, a secretary just needed to be organised and have a good head on their shoulders, right? She hadn’t thought it would be a challenge, but looking around her now, with so many tense faces and how the place screamed money, she felt like she was out of her depth.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to duck out…

“Miss Denali Foxx.”

Denali cursed under her breath for not noticing that the previous interviewee had already left the room. She stood and walked to the door, feeling the eyes of the other candidates eyeing her outfit in disdain. Bracing herself, she knocked on the door and waited for a second before entering, coming face to face with three women seated behind a lacquered wooden conference table. Denali took note of each one as she sat in the lone chair before them.

From the website she had briefly scrolled through, she could recognise the three managing partners - Jan Sport was on the left, followed by Lagoona Bloo in the middle and Rosé McCorkell, the managing partner that she was applying to be the secretary of, on the right. From what she had gathered, all three of them were charismatic, intelligent and ruthless in their own rights when in the courtroom.

Lagoona opened a manila folder, cleared her throat and smiled warmly at the blonde in front of her. “Good afternoon Miss Foxx, thank you for taking the time to come down for this interview.” Denali smiled back at her, feeling a little more at ease at how friendly Lagoona seemed.

“Good afternoon, and thank you for having me.”

Lagoona nodded and introduced the three of them, then began the interview by asking her questions, with Jan interjecting a few herself. Denali had managed to answer most of them confidently, only ever stumbling once. All the while Rosé, the one who would decide whether she would be hired or not, had remained silent, simply choosing to flip through the thin file that held Denali’s details, barely even sparing her a glance.

After about ten minutes of back and forth, Lagoona asked her final question, then turned to look at Rosé.

“I think that’s about it from us. Do you have any questions for her, Rosé?”

Denali gulped, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her as the other woman finally looked up at her, folding her hands and resting her chin on them. After a few excruciating seconds, Rosé leaned back in her seat, eyes still trained on the blonde woman before finally speaking.

“Yes, why should I hire you out of everyone out there? From what I’ve read in your file, you seem to be the most inexperienced out of all the candidates. Were you hoping to somehow find a sugar daddy here? I mean you clearly have the looks for it.”

There was pin drop silence at her question. Lagoona had her face buried in her hands and Jan was struggling between wanting to laugh and wanting to strangle Rosé. Denali however sat stone still as Rosé stared down at her, her expression bored as she waited for the blonde to reply.

Denali’s mind was blank for a second before rage filled her veins.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Resisting the urge to slap the woman in front of her, Denali reigned it in and instead plastered on the sweetest smile she could muster.

“Well as inexperienced as I am, I can guarantee that if you hire me, you wouldn’t be hiring a cookie cutter suck up that wouldn’t be able to look past designer labels or waste their time trying to be someone they’re not. I can also guarantee that you wouldn’t be hiring a pushover who would go crying to their mother when the job gets tough, and knows that their worth is much more than just a few flimsy pieces of paper that won’t tell you the things that really matter.”

Denali stood, smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt before looking Rosé in the eye.

“And the statement about me wanting a sugar daddy? I’d rather a sugar mommy than a sugar daddy, though from what I see, there aren’t any worth my time here anyways.”

Figuring that the interview was a lost cause, Denali nodded her thanks to a stunned Lagoona and laughing Jan, completely ignoring Rosé, and turned on her heel to leave when she was stopped by two words.

“You’re hired.”

———

Present day.

Grinding her teeth as she glared at the desk in front of her, Denali had to tell herself to calm down as the source of her irritation smirked in her direction. If there was one thing that Denali could not stand, it was Rosé’s way of constantly pushing her buttons. Oh, there was no denying that the woman was good at her job, but the way she seemed to ooze confidence and acted as if she owned the damn place? God, that just made Denali’s blood boil.

“Is something the matter, Nali?”

Denali clenched her fist at the sound of Rosé's nick name for her. It was as if the older woman knew that it riled her up whenever she called her that. Looking up at Rosé, Denali bit back an insult and instead forced herself to smile at her. “No, Miss McCorkell, nothing’s the matter at all. Everything is perfectly fine.”

Staring down at the defiant younger woman for a moment from across her desk, Rosé winked at her. “If you say so, baby.”

Denali gripped the pen in her hand tightly. She breathed through her nose, mentally counting down the seconds till their meeting was over and done with as she wrote down every point that Rosé had said. Quickly going over her notes one last time, she looked back up at Rosé. “Is there anything else, Miss McCorkell?”

“Rosé.”

Denali blinked.

“What?”

“My name. I’ve told you to call me that from the beginning.” Denali rolled her eyes internally as she shuffled the loose sheets of paper into a neater pile. “And as I’ve said before, I’m much more comfortable calling you Miss McCorkell.” She heard Rosé’s low chuckle and the sound of fabric shifting. Denali looked up and immediately dropped her pen.

Rosé was suddenly much closer to her than before, leaning against the solid oak desk between them, an almost predatory look in her eye as she watched the younger girl seated in front of her.

“I wonder why.”

———

“So have you and Miss McCorkell fucked yet?”

Denali glared at Kandy as she walked back to her desk. She threw her pen at the girl and missed as it clattered to the floor, leaving the other girl cackling. “No bitch, and that’s never going to happen. What the fuck even makes you think that?” Kandy sat on the edge of Denali’s desk, a shit eating grin on her face. “Besides the fact that every time you leave her office, your face is always so flustered-“

“Because she always pisses me off-“

“-it’s also the way she stares at your ass, like she can’t wait to get her hands on it.” Denali rolled her eyes and retrieved her pen from the floor. “No, she doesn’t. I’ve never seen her look at my ass before.” And Denali was pretty sure that she would have noticed that, seeing as she’d been Rosé’s secretary for a while now. Plopping herself in her office chair, she opened her folio and started to go through her notes, pulling out a stack of colourful post-it’s from her drawer to help with her organisation. Not to be ignored, Kandy carried on as if the other girl wasn’t trying to ignore her.

“Girl, you don’t exactly have eyes on the back of your head, do you? Trust me, she wants to tap that.”

Denali resisted the urge to strangle the Latina sitting on her desk. Sure, there was always some tension in the room when they were together, but that was more from the fact that Rosé loved riling her up. It had been that way since day one, and sometimes Denali questioned her decision to have accepted the job offer, but the money and benefits were too good to pass up for a fresh grad. She shook her head as she replied dismissively.

“Even if she does, I’m not interested.”

Kandy looked at her in disbelief, one brow cocked. “Are you sure? She’s got a great pair of tits.” Well, she couldn’t argue with that. Denali had noticed Rosé’s ample breasts seeing as the managing partner loved to wear outfits that featured them in a daring, yet tasteful, fashion. If she had met Rosé in a bar, she would definitely have approached her.

Of course, she wasn’t going to tell Kandy that.

“Look, no matter how great her tits are, it’ll never make up for the mouth that she has on her.”

Kandy tutted, picking at her nails. “I’m pretty sure her mouth would be preoccupied when the two of you-“

“KANDY!”

“I’m just saying.”

Denali sighed, rubbing her forehead. God, this conversation was giving her a headache and digging at thoughts she had been trying to avoid herself.

“Listen Kandy, if there is one thing that I would never ever do, it is to sleep with my boss-“

“Denali-“

“I don’t care if she’s staring at my ass, I don’t care what she thinks of it-“

“Girl-“

“Me fucking Rosé McCorkell is never going to happen.”

“Well, as enlightening as this conversation is, it might be a little inappropriate to discuss my preferences in the office, don’t you think?”

She froze at the familiar voice behind her as Kandy quietly excused herself.

Shit.

“Cat got your tongue, Miss Foxx?”

Fucking shit.

Denali slowly stood and turned to look at her boss, who had an amused expression on her face and a file in hand.

“I believe that you left this document behind in my office.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Denali moved to retrieve the file from Rosé, trying her best to regain her composure.

“Right, yes- Let me photocopy this for you right away, Miss McCorkell.”

Rosé smirked and leaned in, her lips almost brushing against Denali’s ear.

“Strictly off the record, I do think you have a very nice ass.”

Face flushing a bright red and rendered speechless for a moment as Rosé pulled away, Denali stammered out an excuse before speeding off to the copy room, leaving behind a chuckling Rosé in her wake.

———

Denali was waiting alone for the lift at the end of the day, tapping her foot on the floor as she watched the numbers on the screen climb higher and higher.

It had been a long day, and she was still trying to recover from the embarrassing situation that had happened in the morning. She had spent the whole day actively avoiding her boss, something that wasn’t too difficult to do since she had a long list of tasks from her. Every time she had to drop something off at the older woman’s office, she made it a point to do so when she knew she was out for a meeting or when she was engaged in a call so that Rosé wouldn’t be able to say a word to her.

If she had the opportunity, Denali knew that the managing partner would say something to further humiliate or incite her.

Also, the statement that Rosé had made about her ass was still fresh and in the forefront of her mind, and something Denali had completely not expected. She knew that the two of them butted heads all the time, and that Rosé loved to challenge her secretary and pass along little comments and nicknames just to get a rise out of her. She had suspected that was the main reason that Rosé had hired her, because she was someone who fought back, but that comment about her ass? That had blindsided her.

She didn’t want to admit it, but everything Rosé did and said had an effect on her, and had been for some time now, but that was something that was entirely inappropriate.

Denali shifted her weight, watching the numbers get closer to the floor she was on when she heard the faint clicking of stilettos behind her and shut her eyes, praying to whoever was listening that the person approaching wasn’t who she thought it was, or that the elevator would arrive just before she did. Thankfully, the latter happened as the lift doors opened and Denali quickly stepped into the empty cab, immediately pressing the close button while pointedly making sure not to look up. She let out the breath that she had been unknowingly holding in as the doors slid closed, but her relief was short lived when the doors slid opened again, revealing the very same woman that she had been hoping not to see.

Fuck.

Nodding in greeting, she stepped to the side to give Rosé space, and also to put as much space as possible between the two of them. Rosé nodded back, and stood next to Denali, facing the doors as they closed and the lift slowly descended.

“So where has my little secretary been hiding the whole day?”

Denali’s hand twitched at her side. “I’ve been at my desk the entire day, Miss McCorkell, completing the tasks that you assigned me to do.”

“Is that so? So the little mouse that was scurrying in and out of my office wasn’t you?”

Swallowing a retort, Denali replied with as steady a voice as she could. “I don’t know what you mean, Miss McCorkell.”

Rosé turned her head, an eyebrow raised as she looked down at the squirming girl. Before she could say anything, the lift dinged and a group of people entered, forcing the two of them to take a step back. Denali breathed through her nose, then noticed how close Rosé was to her now in the confined space, so close she could smell the expensive Chanel No. 5 perfume that she loved to wear. Her heart was racing, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the fact that Rosé was now standing close to her, or the fact that her words were replaying over and over in her mind.

Denali stilled when she felt a finger touching the back of hand. She looked down to see a perfectly manicured finger lazily tracing her knuckles before looking up at the owner of the hand, and felt all the air in her lungs escape.

Rosé was staring down at her, eyes a molten hazel and lips curved into that same infuriating smirk that drove Denali insane. She felt the other woman’s fingers slowly slip to the palm of her hand, the light touch causing heat to pool in Denali’s middle and her breath to shorten, and all the while Rosé never took her eyes off her. The younger girl swallowed and bit her lip, noting how the older woman’s heated gaze fell to her throat and then her lips, her palm tingling as Rosé continued to trace patterns on the sensitive skin of her palm.

Seconds later, their little bubble was broken when the lift dinged and people started to shuffle out. Rosé withdrew her hand, and made to leave too, but not before whispering in Denali’s ear.

“Never say never.”

Winking at the frozen girl, Rosé exited the lift, her hips swaying with each step as she left the building.

Denali was fucked.

———

The dynamics of their relationship had changed since that day. Rosé didn’t try as hard as before to get a rise out of Denali anymore. Before it seemed like she was aiming to piss her secretary off, but now it was the opposite. It was as if she was repeatedly trying to fluster her, dropping little teasing comments, purposely brushing their fingers together when passing Denali things, constantly staring intently at her with a knowing smirk on her face. It was slowly driving Denali insane.

She could handle it when Rosé was trying to piss her off, but this? This was completely different and she didn’t know how to handle this kind of attention from her. Denali always found herself blushing to her roots and stammering in response to these new interactions, which seemed to further amuse and encourage the redhead. With each interaction, Denali also found herself questioning everything.

Why was Rosé acting the way that she did?

Was she bored and simply wanted to find something to entertain her?

Was she just toying around with Denali and her emotions?

Sighing as she filled the cup of tea for Rosé’s potential new client, she shook the thoughts out of her head and walked back to the meeting room where he was waiting. Pasting on a polite smile, she pushed the glass door open and set the cup of tea on the table before a greasy looking man that looked as if he was in his late forties.

“Here’s your tea, Mister Tate.” The man smiled back at Denali, taking the cup of tea and sipping from it, all the while giving Denali a once over, much to her discomfort. Putting the cup down, he made a face. “Oh dear, there’s no sugar in this at all, is there?”

Denali blinked. He hadn’t mentioned any sugar earlier, and she had assumed that he wouldn’t need any. “My apologies, Mister Tate, let me get a fresh cup for you.” Reaching over to take back the cup, she was stopped when he grabbed onto her wrist, a sly smile on his face. “There’s no need to bother, it’s fine. After all, I have a sweet, pretty girl like you to entertain me while we wait for Miss McCorkell to arrive.”

Not another one of these men again. Forcing herself not to drop her smile, Denali replied in a tight voice. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr Tate.” She tried to politely tug her hand back to disengage his grip on her wrist, but before she knew it, he was on his feet, an arm slung over her shoulders.

“Mister Tate? No need for formalities, just call me Jim. After all, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around more often now.” Her stomach rolled at the pointed look he had in his eye, the widening smile on his face making him look even greasier. She knew his type and the implications behind his words, and had to force herself to hold in her disgust. As much as she wanted to knee him in the balls, she couldn’t do that here in the office, especially since he was a potential client of Rosé’s.

Swallowing the bile that was rising in her throat, Denali struggled to maintain being civil as she attempted to step out of his grip.

“Mister Tate, if you would kindly please let go of me, I-”

“Come now, Miss Foxx was it? Where’s your sense of hospitality? You forgot the sugar for my tea, but you look like you’ll make up for it-“

“What is going on here?”

The blonde felt a sheer sense of relief flood her when she saw the managing partner standing in the doorway of the meeting room, though the furious look in her eye was something unexpected.

Denali had never seen her this angry before.

The man however seemed completely oblivious to the rising anger of the other woman, and instead smiled at her. “Miss McCorkell! I was just getting acquainted with your lovely secretary here.”

Rosé glared at the man. “Mister Tate, I believe that my secretary doesn’t like your arm around her, and unless you’d like to lose that arm, I suggest that you take it off her.” Looking surprised, the man listened and took his arm off Denali, and she moved away, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Her eyes darted between the two as he stammered. “Miss McCorkell, we’re all adults here. I’m just having a bit of fun. Isn’t that why you keep her around? She sure is a stunner-”

Big mistake.

Rosé took a threatening step towards him, fists clenched and eyes glinting with unbridled rage at what he was implying.

“Get out.”

He gaped. “I- I beg your pardon?”

Rosé sneered, looking down at the now pale and shaking man.

“You heard me, you daft man, get out! I don’t need scum like you in my office, and I certainly don’t need your money. Now get out before I call security!”

Gaping like a fish out of water and scrambling to leave, the greasy man grabbed his bag and hurriedly left the office without looking back as Rosé kept her eyes pinned on his retreating back before turning back to face to her secretary. Denali gulped, and instinctively made to apologise, but was stopped when the older woman moved towards her and gently took her by the shoulders, examining her. “Denali, are you alright?” She asked, sliding her hands down and stopping to hold her wrists, rubbing soothing circles into her skin.

Denali hadn’t noticed, but she was shaking, and Rosé’s motions were slowly calming her down. Taking a shaky breath, Denali smiled weakly at her. “I’m fine, Miss McCorkell. Thank you for stepping in when you did.”

Rosé nodded. “Of course, how could I not? But are you sure you’re alright? Do you want to take the rest of the afternoon off?” Denali laughed drily, waving off the offer. “It’s alright, I’m fine now. It’s nothing that I’m not used to.” Rosé’s thumbs stopped moving and she frowned at Denali.

“What do you mean?” Denali blinked. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that.

“I mean I’ve had my fair share of creeps before-“ She explained with a fake laugh, trying to lighten the mood when she saw Rosé’s face darkening.

That wasn’t good.

“You mean here? In my office?”

“Well, er-“ Rosé stepped closer into Denali’s space, raising a hand to cup her face as she stared into the younger’s eyes, voice low as she demanded. “The truth please.” Denali swallowed, feeling the slightly murderous intent that the other woman was exuding, which contradicted the gentle hold that she had on Denali. Hesitantly, Denali nodded.

“..yes.”

Rosé clenched her jaw, taking a second to process what Denali had confirmed, before stepping back and letting go of her secretary. Denali could see that her hands were clenched into fists that Rosé quickly stuffed into the pockets of her suit when she noticed Denali looking at them, as if wanting to hide how she was trying to not lose her temper.

“I want their names.”

Denali frowned, confused. “Wha- Why?”

“So I can tear up their contracts. Anyone who touches you is not worth my time.” Denali’s eyes widened. This sounded like a rash decision, and she didn’t want to cost Rosé or the company money. Breaking contracts meant loss of income, which wasn’t worth it. Not when it was just a simple matter of harassment that she should be able to handle herself. “But Miss McCorkell, it’s not worth it, I can-“

Rosé shot Denali a sharp look at that, cutting her off. “No buts. I want their names on my desk by the end of the day.” Denali swallowed and nodded stiffly as Rosé held her gaze, eyes hardened before softening as she sighed. The managing partner turned to leave, but stopped at the doorway to give her one last meaningful look.

“Denali, don’t ever think that you’re not worth it.”

And she left, leaving behind a wide eyed and blushing Denali staring after her.

———

I have been hung up on the idea of writing a fic with a flirty boss Rosé and feisty secretary Denali. The sexual tension just writes itself.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (:

xoxo Vera

[songofsaraneth]

Ok now that I have time/space to breathe again, I wanted to do a writeup on the unusual reaction I had to the second Covid vaccine dose. I debated posting this, because I don't want to go against the "I was vaccinated and it's fine!" encouragement train. And I 1000% encourage EVERYONE to get vaccinated if possible. But I have not seen much documentation of the averse symptom I got, except in some case studies I specifically looked up so details below. Big TMI/gross warning however. 

Mostly I'm posting this because I had to do SO much self-advocating/arguing with the Dr at my urgent care clinic, and if you're not as read up on weird medical issues as I am, you might not be comfortable doing that. But IANAD, just describing my experience and what I read, which ended up being very long because it was awful and I have a lot to complain about I guess, sorry.

Basically: for me the vaccine triggered an inflammation response, which in itself is normal. The usual muscle aches/joint pain/slight fever. It also triggered an outbreak of ulcers in my soft tissues. Basically, a bunch of canker sores in my mouth/throat. I am already prone to getting these when I get sick or stressed out, so no biggie, annoying and painful but I could handle them. Canker sores are distinct from cold sores in that they form inside the mouth as crater spots, usually around the size of a pencil eraser (though can be bigger or smaller), and will develop a white film across the crater as they develop and start to heal.

An unfortunate fact I have learned: the mouth is not the only exposed “soft tissue” of the body. this group also includes genitals.

So 2 days after the vaccine I noticed a "burning sensation"/rawness downstairs, which turned into a sharp pain, especially when going to the bathroom. I obviously knew this was abnormal and because of what was happening in my mouth, had a pretty firm idea of what was happening, but was ready to brace myself through the healing process. However by day 5 I had 8 red, crater-like sores on the tissue of my vulva. Essentially they are open wounds, and urine is an acid, so you can imagine the hell that using the bathroom had become. Even just sitting hurt.

As someone healthcare-averse, even I knew this was untenable, and went to Urgent Care for the first time in my adult life. I told the NP what was going on, how they matched the canker sores (NOT cold sores) in my mouth in onset/form--and she immediately, without even looking, diagnosed me with herpes.

Lots of people have herpes or other STIs, and that's fine. I know I do not have any, and wanted to pursue treatment for what I was sure they were--Non-sexually acquired genital ulceration (NSGU). I had even found three case studies of COVID patients who had developed them. I had spent several harrowing hours on google images making sure that the sores I had did not match any STI I may have magically acquired during a year of social distancing. I even brought up multiple case studies, including a woman who had them as a Covid reaction in a neighboring state. Didn’t matter. She looked at them and went “Yikes! Herpes!” and prescribed me: 

1) an antiviral, which I said I did not think would do anything because the trigger for this was a vaccine not an illness. She said it was probably a herpes flare up already in my system. I reiterated that I have had similar sores in my mouth since childhood and that all my past doctors and dentists agreed it was not viral but something related to an immune response. She said the antivirals should clear them up in a few days.

2) a topical 5% lidocaine ointment, aka an oral grade numbing gel, which was essentially what I was after anyway.

I would have preferred a steroid course to the antiviral, but agreed to start taking them until she got the results of the bloodwork I needed to come in the next day for. I asked how many days after taking them I would expect to see a difference/if she would reevaluate treatment if they didn’t have an effect in a certain amount of time, and she said if they hadn’t cleared up by Monday then she’d look into other causes (spoiler, they did nothing in that 4 day span). to her credit, when she saw me pick up my bike helmet (because my car had been at the mechanic for a month by then), she was properly horrified that i was having to bike everywhere with this situation and printed off some coupons/called all the prescriptions into the grocery store pharmacy next door instead of the CVS my insurance likes a mile away.

So eventually I got home and took my pill & went to put on the ointment so I could use the bathroom for the first time in 8 hours. I’ll spare you the details but suffice to say I had an extremely, overwhelmingly painful 10 minutes of application. Like absolutely awful burning feeling. However once that faded, I was indeed actually numb, and so I figured it was worth it. Got my bloodwork done on Friday (biking there & home again). On Saturday, I thought that you know, maybe a prescription anesthetic shouldn’t be doing that or at least have some sort of warning? And read the details on the jar.

Good things about lidocaine: it is a powerful numbing agent and lasts pretty well for an hour or two.

Bad things about lidocaine: you cannot get oral grade lidocaine without added mint flavoring.

I happen to be EXTREMELY sensitive to mint. Like I still can’t handle breath mints or mouthwash, and used bubblegum flavored toothpaste until I was 14 and found a brand with half as much mint flavoring as is typical. Even if you’re not, mint has no business being anywhere near genital tissue. Even on an average person that could cause awful burning. to make a long saga shorter I had a very frustrating back-and-forth with urgent care involving many rerouted phone trees, visit in person, unhelpful receptionists, and attempts to find over-the-counter alternatives. All were fruitless so I just  suffered all weekend until the urgent care Nurse Practitioner called me back on Monday and was suitably apologetic/outraged about the mint thing, and looked up every OTC product that might work as a substitute, since she couldn’t find any prescription level without mint. On Tuesday she called back again having found this:

It’s 4%, so just below prescription strength, while not oral grade, it’s actually fine for soft tissues as long as not fully ingested/internally applied. And most importantly, ABSOLUTELY NO ADDED FLAVORINGS. there is also a spray version that comes in a bottle, which under no circumstances should you try because it uses alcohol as a propellant and I had a very bad 5 minutes after testing that one. But the cream one is fine and brings blessed numbness in around 5 minutes with only minimal contact pain--they are still open wounds after all. 

I use this for the next 7 days. By this point the sores have gotten worse and larger, and then started to heal and shrink again. Mouth canker sores go through a similar ~2 week process, so this is about what I expected.

Finally the results of my bloodwork came back, and I was negative for all STIs. The NP was dumbfounded and apologized, and agreed to look up more information/treatment options for cases like this in the future. I’m not surprised her reaction was to assume herpes as it IS very common, but I’m sure other women experience NSGU’s and receive improper treatment. If you look them up, they’re even mentioned as being predominantly a problem for “young or prepubescent women” which, reading between the lines--it’s not that these become less likely if you’re older or sexually active. Doctors just make assumptions and don’t always look past the easy answers.

So if you or someone you know ends up with these--from the Covid vaccine or as a complication of upper respiratory infections in general (as they ARE an immune response and can just Happen to you)--here is what works as treatment. If you can see a doctor you trust, still do that. But if they don’t listen or if for some reason you can’t seek treatment, here is the course of action I recommend: 

Pick up that over-the-counter Pain Relief+Lidocaine NON MINTY numbing cream ASAP. Sores go from “annoying” to “excruciating” in only 3 days, so it’s best to get in person or with rush shipping. Sit in front of a mirror and gently apply with a q-tip, and wait 5 minutes for the medicine to take effect.

Pat gently dry with toilet paper, don’t make wiping motions. If you don’t feel clean enough, pat more with a wet washcloth and rinse it out, or hope in the shoer for 5 min just to rinse.

There may be pus or reside from the ointment that doesn’t go away with just rinsing. Every 2 days I made a half-strength bath of epsom salts, NUMBED FULLY, and then took a 10 minute bath to fully cleanse the area. the salt will sting terribly if you wait any longer, so I recommend standing and rinsing after this time.

The vulva is more exposed to air than the mouth. this may cause the sores to crack/bleed as they dry out. to avoid this, after using the restroom and cleaning yourself, you can apply a thick coating of Aquaphor on top of the sores. It will need to be rinsed off before you apply more numbing cream however, so if that is too many steps I recommend just using the Aquaphor overnight.

You may think its ok to get up in the middle of the night to pee without the numbing cream bc you have to go really bad and just once will be fine but it is NOT you will REGRET IT.

Unfortunately if you have sores on both sides you may develop what is known as “kissing sores”, aka sores directly opposite each other that touch when the area is not spread open. this means that after an extended period of time (overnight), the sores will try to heal into each other and opening the area back up painfully rips the tissue apart. INStEAD of ripping them apart, take a washclosh, run it under warm water, and do a hot/warm compress on the area. this will loosen the sores back up and separate them painlessly.

This is not exclusive to people with a vulva, they can also happen on scrotal/anal tissue. However it does seem to much more frequently affect people with typical XX sex organs. 

If you develop these, PLEASE fill out an averse reaction form or your country’s equivalent. Also, I’m so sorry and if you need emotional support or have questions please feel free to get in touch.

Most likely, these will not happen to you--the vast majority of vaccinated people have not had this as a side effect. But it IS popping up more and more, and it is good to know about it in advance so you can be prepared to deal with and treat it without as much anxiety and all the hoops I had to jump through to get good care. Overall I’m still glad to be vaccinated, but if I had known this was a side effect, as someone already prone to canker sores I would have waited to vaccinate until my car was fixed a week later a the very least :|

[meepmoopfanfics]

you don’t get a win unless you’re playing the game: Daveed Diggs x Reader. Chapter 2.

Reminder: this is gonna be a long fic! please be patient :)

You are finally ending an excruciating first week of dance rehearsals.

You’re gearing up finishing Act I finally, your brain feeling completely fried from all of the material given, especially the vocal parts. You were so used to singing the melody line of all the songs and being given the alto part was a challenge in itself, let alone applying singing while doing the choreography. The dancing was second nature but you didn’t realize how much stamina you’d actually need to getting the notes out without sounding breathy, pitchy or exhausted. You did NOT want to embarrass yourself in front of the OBC when it came time to integrate.

You had only worked with the ensemble closely so far and were getting close with Stephanie, the universal dance captain of the show. She had mentioned to you that the principals and ensemble members would be having a little hang out session at her brother’s penthouse apartment downtown after rehearsals ended tonight.

“Brilliant work today everyone. I know it’s been tough. But take the weekend to really review the material and let everything sink in.” Stephanie’s eyes were lit up. The way she was so attentive to detail and every backstory of every movement was so inspiring and eye opening.

You wiped the sweat off of your face as you partner, aka M3, aka George Eaker, aka Cedric, gave you a wink and a thumbs up. You were way too lucky to be matched with Cedric. If you jumped across the stage, somehow you’d trust him to catch you with seconds to spare before landing.

The ensemble cheered together and began to pan out to the house to grab their things and head up to their dressing rooms to get ready for the party.

“Is everyone coming tonight?” Stephanie yelled excitedly.

You heard a cannon of yeses and hell yeahs around the group.

“The wolfpack’s coming too!” That was her nickname for the OBC crew. “It’s gonna be a raaaaaager!” She started gyrating her hips. Everyone erupted with laughter.

“A safe one at that, of course. Be on your best behavior around Lin… just kidding he’s an absolute child.

Alright now go, get out. Go get hot.”

You followed the ensemble up the stairs backstage to end up at your dressing room which you shared with W4, Michelle.

“Girl... what’re ya wearing tonight? I can’t decide.” Michelle asked while anxiously rummaging through her back full of scribbled on legal pads, muscle rollers, and random items of clothing.

You had packed your favorite black jeans that made your legs look flawless, your signature suede boots, and a Kith hoodie. You wanted to look put together but also casual and cool. Most importantly, you wanted to impress all of your idols. This was your only chance to give them the best first impression of you.

You thought about grabbing your Oakland sweatshirt that your parents got you as a gag gift for Christmas, in honor of your celebrity crush’s hometown. You immediately regretted even thinking of wearing it, as Daveed would definitely find it way too weird. You were from Massachusetts... not California. The Bay Area would be embarrassed for you.

“I just brought these little guys. All black, of course. Feel like it does the job. Also, the sweatshirt will let me eat alllllll of the pizza guilt free.”

Michelle stared longingly at your suede boots. “These are fuckin fancy!”

“They’re only Steve Madden!!” You were proud of your ability to find luxury looking goods for a cheap price. You don’t think that will ever change, even when you saw your first broadway check hit your checking account.

You were happy you could share a safe and fun dressing room space with Michelle and knew the two of you would become close friends.

You both ran into the shower room across the hallway, and quickly washed off. You decided you were going to straighten your long light brown hair. You loved your hair, but it got so curly and tangled when you sweat. Thankfully they were going to put you in a wig for the show instead of using your natural locks. Being a head sweat-er was the worst. Your makeup was minimal, as you looked best with a nice dewy makeup glow, with highlighted cheekbones. You wore a nude matte lipstick, which matched the natural color of your lips, and lightly liquid lined a cat eye over your big (insert eye color) eyes.

You saw your reflection. You didn’t know if it was the confidence of finally reaching your goal or if you just were having a good hair/makeup day... but you were stunning.

“Damn mama!” Michelle gasped as she saw your finished look. “Whose mans are you about to steal at this gig? Better not be Cedric, he’s mine.”

You laughed. You couldn’t help to think about who you already had your heart set on.

“Definitely not Cedric.”

Michelle opened her iPhone 11 plus and immediately opted for a mirror selfie. She quickly opened Instagram and posted it to her story.

You opened the app yourself to go check if it looked good.

Posted 32 secs ago

#MamaHam and #TheBullet hit the town 🎉

“Ready?” Michelle asked, putting the final touches of her gold Fenty highlight on her cheeks. “We should grab a quick bite before hitting the place. I plan on drinking my weight in Truly seltzers tonight.”

“Let’s get it.” You smiled. “I’ll call the uber.”

——

You called the uber, hopped in, and began driving downtown. You felt your anxiety creeping up on you.

“Trulys? Really? I’m gonna need to be doing shots of Jager in order to be able to speak a single word to any of these principals.”

“What are you... nervous? You already got the role. You’re equals with these guys.”

She wasn’t wrong.

“Guess I’ll just have to act as chill as possible. That’s the plan anyways... also Michelle, wanna know something ridiculous?”

“What?”

“I’ve had a middle school full fledged crush on Daveed since I can remember.”

She blurted out with laughter.

“Well girl he is on the market now. Shoot ya shot.”

You already knew this. Daveed was recently single and focusing on rebuilding himself up. His breakup with his last girlfriend wasn’t bad. It was mature and mutual. You knew he was taking time to himself, so you didn’t want to be overbearingly flirtatious when you first met him.

You also couldn’t stop thinking about your ex, whom you left last year around this time. His goals just weren’t lining up with your future. He hated musicals, he hated almost everything you liked... but you couldn’t stand the fact you shattered his heart.

“I’ll see what happens... after 5 shots.” You responded, winking at Michelle.

__

You arrived at the cutest little Italian place downtown in TriBeCa. You knew carbs and wine were the perfect pregame for this shindig.

After loads of pasta and splitting a bottle of wine, you began to feel the confidence needed to shake the nerves from you. You hit the bathroom to give yourself a double check before walking to your final destination.

—

As you walked up to the massive high rise residence, you couldn’t believe this was your lifestyle now. As you approached, you noticed an extremely familiar face exit the revolving door.

Holy shit, that’s Rafa.

Rafael Casal. Daveed Diggs’ best friend.

You stopped in your tracks stunned.

He turned his head immediately in your and Michelle’s direction.

“Y/N?! What’s going on?!”

“Shut up shut up shut up...” you whispered through your teeth. “Just keep walking.”

As he passed you both, he smiled, and turned into the Duane Reade on the corner. Probably picking up something he forgot.

You realized you would be on edge all night not being able to keep your cool. Rafa wasn’t even in the damn OBC and here you were, freaking out entirely on the freaking sidewalk.

Through the doors you went, passing the crystal clear marble floors, giant chandeliers, and up to the doorman.

“Can I help you beautiful ladies?”

Michelle blushed. The doorman was actually attractive.

“We’re here for Klemons? Penthouse 2?”

“Oh yeah! Hamilton!!! Love that show. Have fun!”

You hit the elevator as you looked down at your phone.

9:18pm

Perfect timing. Almost 20 mins late. Fashionably late, of course.

“Oh shit shit shit.”

You realized you haven’t changed your wallpaper from Daveed grabbing his crotch.

Michelle laughed as you fumbled to change your wallpaper to a pic of you and your family from when you were younger. Perfect. A conversation starter. Your overthinking was killing you softly.

Your teeth were legit chattering. You felt anxiety waves rush through your nervous system. The pit in your stomach grew. Your heart was beating a mile a minute. This was it. Your chance at something greater than you ever thought was possible to achieve.

The elevator doors opened to the open concept apartment. Voices were clashing over the blaring hip hop music in the dimly lit room. A full bar in the corner, Joe’s pizza scattered over the island in the kitchen. Beer pong set up on the dining room table.

There they were. Every single one of em. Scattered across the flat. Starstruck wasn’t even the beginning of what you felt.

Your eyes scanned quickly around.

There he was. Curly headed locks and all. Leaning up against the floor to ceiling windows that circled the place, holding a cocktail in his strong, large right hand accessorized with a few rings. Simply staring at the sights of the city. He looked like a million bucks and he was in a simple casual outfit. Light washed jeans, black boots, with his left hand in his black hoodie pocket.

Wait. You guys were wearing the same hoodie.

The same fucking hoodie.

Of course this would happen.

tag list:

@alexander-hamilhoe

[st-edna]

Time to Stop Associating “Eureka” with Archimedes and Focus on Shinji Aoyama’s 2000 Masterpiece

A travel in search of clarity and purification. Understanding and letting go.

A longing to reach the state of eureka.

Three surviving victims of a bus-hijacking in the remote areas of Kyushu island try to cope with their traumas, both individually and collectively. The healing threesome, along with an outsider to the incident, form a unity and decide to take a road trip to places an unknown serial killer is also visiting.

Whenever I mentally prepare myself to sit through an approximately four hour long film, I usually tend to lean towards ones that will make up for my by then weary mind with their solid conversations, striking colors and captivating plot events. So, naturally, when I stumbled upon Shinji Aoyama’s 2000 drama Eureka, a sepia film with a 3 hour 38 minute mark and not the most action-based structure, I flinched, hesitated, procrastinated and after several weeks, I finally sat down to watch it. I knew it could go either two ways: I could be bored out of my soul in the first half and shamelessly give up midway or I could feel the immense gratification of having enough of an attention span to help witness a masterpiece. I had given more possibility to the initial option rather than the latter, just to eventually be wronged. Eureka and I were the components of an intimidation-to-love trope because, without a doubt, it has become one of my all-time favorite films with solely the first watch.

I guess it would be fair to mention not everyone will appreciate it the same way, or even find enough patience to sit through the whole thing but I can wholeheartedly say, it is absolutely worth the time.

For a visual sequence where a particular trauma is in focus, it is fascinating how one feels so drawn in to the storyline without completely witnessing the actual event. Aftermath of gunshots, terrified looks on hostages’ faces, scattered dead bodies and a mad man are what we see; sexual assault and beating are what’s implied; and the exhaustive journey of dealing with survivor’s guilt, loneliness and the desperation derived from not being able to express yourself are what we are dragged in to experience.

Every little detail is presented in subtle harmony, quite contrary to what lies in the film’s essence. The severity of what each character is buried under is in an opposition with the monochromatic tones that paint each wide scenery even more peaceful than they already are. 

Eureka serves the role of an epiphany. The epiphany of realizing what you went through can be a part of you, but it does not have to define you. It does not have to play a role in the molding of the rest of your life. There are no set standards for what a survivor ought to fit into. It is a reminder that there is no one fixed method in mental survival and that surviving is not a crime.

Such heavy and sensitive topics couldn’t have been easy to portray within a film so quiet, so calming. The excruciating struggle of not being understood by friends and family is twisted around to assure that at least the viewer gets it. With every passing minute, you are faced with the reality of acceptance. How deceiving it is underneath all the agony. How it lurks in the fragments of that incident, waiting to find a chance to mislead you. Is the clarity you are craving in vengeance? In surrendering to evil? In art and nature? Or in a road trip? The answer to these questions are sneaky, and the painful confusion of sensitive minds are easy targets. The rest of the equation is self-explanatory.

I am forever glad I sat down on a Sunday evening to watch Eureka. By the end of it, it also becomes obvious that the duration is also an important factor in communicating the film’s message. Acceptance is time consuming, sometimes even annoying. Everything falls into line perfectly. Particular scenes and quotes still linger in my mind, increasing my admiration as time goes by. Its sepia covered features are all worthy of remembrance.

To cut a post that could easily turn into a full length essay short, if you ever want to feel atmospheric heartbreak and have nearly four hours to spare, I recommend you watch the masterfully crafted beauty that is Eureka. I really hope you cherish it as much as I do.

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 5

Previous: Codename First Heartbreak 

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X OFC/PI, Mentions of Kim Seokjin X OFC

Genre: Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Light Strangers to Lovers AU

Rating: PG13

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Swearing, Legal Alcohol Consumption

Summary: The search for Kim Seokjin begins, and our PI makes an unexpected acquaintance. 

Searching for Seokjin 

Present Day

         I’ll admit, the heartbreak Euna endured at the hands of Kim Seokjin felt a little too real, a little too personal, a little too familiar. Reading the chapters in her manifesto that detailed the love she had for him, reminded me of listening to Kacey Musgrave’s first album and asking, to no one in particular, who hurt you?

        Whether or not he realized it, their five-month triste had set in motion the ways in which Euna moved through her relationships with men. It was clear that their college love story created deep seated insecurity, one that caused her to shy away from dating. Shy away, and then lean in fully and totally in a manner that would make Charles Manson go “whoa step back”. But that’s a story for later, because Seokjin never felt the extend of Euna’s love. No, that was reserved for Min Yoongi. But again, a story for another time.  

        Kim Seokjin, being first on the list, was the first man I wanted to track down. He had practically no social media presence, no LinkedIn or job profiles, no known address. All Euna had to go off of was he worked at some bank in New York, but that was after graduation. Five years later, she didn’t know if he’d still be there.

        “Hi, I am calling for a Mr. Kim,” I say into my phone.

        “Which Mr. Kim would you be referencing?” The receptionist asks.

        “Kim Seokjin,” I respond.

        “Hmm, I do not have a Kim Seokjin in the directory,” She says.

        “Do you happen to have a forwarding number or address?” I ask.

        “No, unfortunately not. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

        “No, thank you,” I hang up and gently set my phone on my desk. Of course, he didn’t still work there, what promising young man would stay at a mid-tier firm when he had the potential for such greatness, as Euna described?

        I pick up my phone and dial my favorite number.

        “If this is to ask me to search something for you illegally, the answer is no,” My sister says, not bothering to begin our chat with any formality.

        “C, you know I have full access to the state database,” I remind her, twirling in my chair.

        “Then what’s your question?” She demands.

        “I need a national search,” I inform her.

        “No,” C says.

        “Come on, please?” I ask.

        “No,” She says again.

        “You know you’re the golden child, mom and dad already love you more, so can you help me out?” I plead.

        “You get one chance a year to use the ‘mom and dad’ card,” She reminds me.

        “Sis, this is an extenuating circumstance,” I tell her.

        “Lies,” She responds.

        “I’ll pay you,” I offer.

        “You do know the NSA taps these phones?” She whispers, knowing full well I do.

        I laugh a little too hard, “Then why are you absolutely dragging me?”

        “I can’t,” She tells me, voice returning to normal volume.

        “Fine.” I say, fingers moving swiftly over the keypad of my phone.

        “Why do you insist on putting me on speaker?” She groans.

        “It’s easier, I have many things to do,” I remind her.

        “Sure, you do, like find the pennies you lost in the couch. Still enough for rent, right?”

        “You can be such a bitch, you know that?” I snap.

        “You still coming out with us on Friday?” She changes subjects fluidly.

        “Well, I wasn’t-

        “You are coming, when’s the last time you, you know, hooked up?” She asks delicately.

        “I thought we were being tapped?” I laugh callously.

        “No no, that’s what you’re not doing,” She reciprocates.

        “You’re the worst, and I hate you,” I tell her.

        “Wear something revealing,” She suggests.

        “Don’t slut shame me,” I say.

        “You’re insufferable,” She responds.

        “Love you, mean it,” I tell her.

        “Love you, mean it,” She replies.

        If I know my sister, and I do, better than she realizes, tonight at the club she’ll have the information I need, the information to help me find not only Kim Seokjin, but the lot of them.

~~~~~

        Dressing in what my sister would ultimately call a boring, going to work outfit, I hopped into the Uber. I knew better than to drive, the full extent of the evening outlined in detail in a message from C. She always planned elaborate nights out, which resulted in black outs, drunk hook ups and dirty dancing. C wanted the nights to remain perfect blurred memories, fuzzy in our minds, growing more and more hazy as the years progressed. She knows well enough to schedule them quarterly, if not twice a year max, maintaining their elusiveness. She invites only the best of the best, her favorite people, and being the single younger sister, I am the pet project of all her married friends. It’s fucking excruciating. I would rather be shaving my legs dry than spend a drunken night with her friends who all remember me as the braces wearing tween they met me as.

        Tonight, will be no different.

        I enter the club, no cover, and slip my bomber jacket off as I walk towards the bar. My sister sits on a stool, laughing uproariously at her girlfriends, shoulders exposed as she downs what I’m assuming is a Lemon Drop. Spotting me, she waves.

        “You’re here!” She yells and eyes me up and down. “So glad you tried.”

        “I put make up on,” I tell her, blinking my eyes slowly enough that she can see the shadow and attempt at eyeliner. “I’m even wearing foundation.”

        “Wow, and what tween did you learn that from?” She asks, flagging down the bartender.

        I don’t dignify her question with a response, in turn favoring the bartender. He stares at me expectantly, “Tequila, shaken,” I turn to count the party, “Ten shots.”

        He nods before grabbing what I assume is the cheapest tequila from the shelf.

        “For you?” Elise asks.

        “For all of us,” I say winking. The bartender sets the shots down before asking if I want to close my tab. I nod, handing him my card without thinking.

        “Really? Two shots and you’re done for the night?” C asks me.

        “No, I just won’t be paying for them,” I reply laughing. Together we down our shots before turning to the dance floor. It’s a mess of sweating bodies, the neon lights illuminating fractions of everyone’s face, a nose here, an ear there, lips entangled over the beat of a Dua Lipa song. Clothing, soaked to the bone, clinging relentlessly onto everyone’s skin as they sweat through the music, liquor moving their limbs in wild gestures, inhibitions down, booties dropping. It’s euphoria and chaos, pleasure and sin.

        I fucking love it.

        My sister and I, though very different, have always had a shared love of dancing. Music bumping through speakers, full volume never being enough, in our blood. A part of us from our father, uniting our waring personas across decades, across the globe, and tonight, across the floor. Is there anything as blissful as dancing, hips swaying, arms overhead, lungs burning as we shout the lyrics. Heavenly.

        I retreat from the dance floor to the bar, waiting patiently for the bartender to notice my presence.

        “You look so happy out there,” A man says from behind me. I turn, surprised to see someone seated on the stool behind me. I truly almost sat on him.

        “Oh, hi, yeah, thanks,” I reply, smiling softly.

        “Do you think you could spare me a dance?” He asks, blush coating his cheeks.

        “Tell me this,” I say, eyes absorbing his Bambi like orbs, “How many fingers does Yoda have?”

        “Depends, which movie you’re talking about,” He smiles, and I swear I’ve been shot in the heart. No one should be this stunning in a dimly lit club, which means he’s going to be breathtaking in the light of day.

        “So how many?” I repeat.

        “Three in one film, two in another,” His nose scrunches.

        “Are you a nerd or just really into bar trivia?” I ask.

        “A bit of both,” He’s still smiling, and I’m wounded again.

        “Good to know,” I laugh lightly.

        “Can I buy you a drink?” He offers.

        “I thought you wanted a dance,” I remind him, winking.

        “Can I have both?” He asks, left eyebrow raising.

        “Depends,” I say smirking.

        “On?”

        “What are you drinking?” I ask.

        “Is this your game? Ask me questions to extrapolate information so you can decide if you’re interested?” He doesn’t mean to blast me, but he does.

        “Oo, you do read me so well,” I wink, a poor attempt at keeping any pretense or posture intact. “Tequila shot, shaken, lemon wedge, no salt.”

        He orders two shots and looks me over.

        “You’re gorgeous,” He says, sincerity in his eyes.

        “You are too,” I reply, eliciting a laugh from him.

        “Are you usually this forthcoming?”

        “Absolutely not, when you get to know me, you’ll see how closed off I truly am,” I thank the bartender before grabbing my shot. “To strangers in bars,”

        “And lovers amongst the stars,” He replies.

        “Shakespeare?” I smile again before tossing my shot back. “How’s about that dance?”

        “On one condition,” He stands, towering over me, his black hair moving like a curtain in front of his eyes.

        “What could that possibly be?” I ask, hand already reaching for his.

        “Tell me your name,” He uses his new hold on my hand to pull me close to him, chests pressing against one another’s.

        I stand on my tiptoes, pressing my already flushed cheek against his. “Y/N,” I say, lips grazing his decorated ear.

        He turns slightly, ensuring my cheek remains against his. “Jungkook,” His voice is husky, deep and resonating. It shivers through my body, the heat from him mixing with the anticipation building. Pulling away, he smiles again, “Let’s dance.”

Next: Codename Another Shot at Love Pt. 1

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 252: Suplex of Feels

Previously on BnHA: Deku, Kacchan, and Shouto visited Todobrook Heights one time, just the one!!, so of course it just so happened to also be the one time that Natsuo got straight up kidnapped by a villain for no reason because THAT’S JUST HOW LIFE GOES. Thankfully for Natsuo, the Terror Trio had kind of a Cinderella thing going on where if they didn’t beat a villain before Endeavor by midnight, their character development would turn back into a pumpkin, and I’m not really sure I stuck the landing on that metaphor but anyway! So Shouto used Flashfire to roast the villain alive, Deku used Blackwhip to save some hapless civilians who got caught in the crossfire of everything, and Kacchan used his cool fast explosions which don’t have a new name yet because he’s focused on more important things to rocket over and save Natsuo from becoming roadkill. And then Endeavor gave him and Natsuo a BIG OL’ HUG and my heart went, oh.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi grabs a handful of raw, squishy feels out of a bucket and just full on slaps me across the face with them. Endeavor has a moment of agonizing, excruciating vulnerability and apologizes to Natsuo for everything -- like, everything -- and says Natsuo doesn’t have to forgive him, and that in fact he doesn’t want him to forgive him, and that he just wants to atone for everything he’s done. And just, I can’t even describe the scene, but it’s just perfect down to the last detail, and exactly what I wanted. And meanwhile Deku, Shouto, and Kacchan stand there watching, and then Kacchan has a fucking epiphany and FINALLY DECIDES ON A HERO NAME!!, and I completely lose my goddamn mind, only to then be brought down to the lowest of lows when he immediately says that he’s not going to reveal it yet because THERE’S SOMEONE ELSE HE HAS TO TELL FIRST. So once I’m done sighing, we cut to later and Endeavor is all “Fuyumi I’m gonna buy a house for you guys so you can all live a happy life with your mom and never see me again,” and yeah. You guys I am in shambles.

hey everyone, whoever is doing Mangastream’s thumbnails every week deserves a raise though

especially since they’re not actually getting paid for it at all lol. their resolve to find the most ridiculous Kacchan expression every week and slap it on their home page is 100% a labor of love. AND IT SHOWS

lol and here I was half-worried the chapter would pick up after all the dust had settled, and we’d miss out on this glorious scene of Kacchan acting like he’s the goddamn wicked witch of the west and the sprinklers just turned on. anyways, I know what I’m thankful for this holiday

HAHAHAHAHA

I’D LIKE TO TAKE A MINUTE AND THANK ALL OF OUR SPONSORS AND OUR GREAT CREW WHO MADE THIS ALL POSSIBLE. SHOUT OUT TO ENDING, YOU’RE THE REAL MVP. BIG “HEY WHAT’S UP” TO TOUYA, WHO STRAIGHT UP DIED JUST SO ENDEAVOR COULD HAVE ANGST AT A CRITICAL MOMENT AND FORCE KACCHAN TO BE THE ONE TO SAVE NATSUO INSTEAD. AND A HUGE FUCKING “YOU THE MAN, BRO” TO THAT MORON SPEEDING BLINDLY IN THE TAXI CAB WHILE ON HIS PHONE AND NOT PAYING THE SLIGHTEST BIT OF ATTENTION TO THE ROAD IN FRONT OF HIM! WITHOUT YOUR RECKLESS DISREGARD FOR YOUR OWN SAFETY AND THAT OF OTHERS, THIS NEVER COULD HAVE HAPPENED. OH GOD, THEY’RE PLAYING THE MUSIC NOW, I GOTTA HURRY UP... AH... I’M SO GRATEFUL TO ALL MIGHT, GIVER OF SO MANY LEGENDARY HERO HUGS, AND TO SLIDIN’ GO, YES REALLY SLIDIN’ GO, WHO ESTABLISHED THIS GAG BACK IN CHAPTER 219. YOU BOTH WALKED SO ENDEAVOR COULD RUN. AND LAST BUT CERTAINLY NOT LEAST, TO HORIKOSHI KOUHEI, WHO IS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DETERMINED TO HAVE EVERY PRO HERO IN THE COUNTRY HUG KACCHAN BEFORE THE SERIES IS OVER. YOUR TIRELESS EFFORTS ARE THE REASON I GET OUT OF BED EVERY MORNING. GOD BLESS YOU ALL AND GOOD NIGHT

anyway

sorry Kacchan this is just your life now. you’re just stuck here. by the way, Endeavor really is just an absolute MOUNTAIN of a man, though?? like, a whole, absolute unit. like remember a few chapters ago when I was joking about how he was eight feet tall? well Natsuo is 5’11” according to the wiki, and you can tell by looking at him that he is a solidly built guy. like, he eats his fucking Wheaties. and Endeavor is still able to FULLY WRAP HIS ARMS AROUND both him and Katsuki together WITH ROOM TO SPARE and just. ?????? WHAT EVEN IS THIS MAN good grief

anyway poor Natsu looks close to passing out though so maybe you fucking should let them go Endeav

SDLFKJSDLFKH

1) seriously though look at how big his hands are jesus christ is he even a human!?!?

and 2)!! the amount of sheer detail which was put into this panel, with the facial expressions and the shading and all, only for Katsuki to open his big fucking mouth with ABSOLUTELY NO REGARD! like, this could have been one of the most heartrending panels in the entire series. but instead it’s forever immortalized with Bakugou fucking Katsuki and his brutal fucking speech bubble interjecting with the most vicious insult his angry toddler brain could think of. this panel has the same energy as Deku receiving a heartfelt thank you letter from a child whose life he saved only to unfold it and read that iconic opening line, “SORRY FOR PUNCHING YOU IN THE BALLS LOL”

oh my

boy took matters into his own hands. after Enji just STRAIGHT UP IGNORED HIS PLEAS lmao. this entire chapter is a gift, and we’re only on the second page. also that katakana there is all “SUPON”, which I don’t know what that means, but I have to tell you that to me this felt more like a “ZWOOP.” but that’s just how I personally read it

eyyyyy and there’s our half-naked lukewarm boi

and look, I’m not advocating for Shouto to actually be walking around half naked, because this is a children’s manga and Shouto is just a baby, and that kind of thing is obviously inappropriate unless you’re [checks notes] one of his female classmates, who just like Shouto are also only teenagers, but it’s okay for them because they have boobs. hey wait

but anyway, I will say that I appreciate that his uniform really did burn off just as you would expect, and that he used his ice quirk to preserve his modesty lol. quick thinking on his part

meanwhile all the people Deku rescued are stumbling out of their cars nauseously and thanking him. I like how all of the other traffic on this highway has apparently just come to a halt now. I wonder if the Endeavormobile also came equipped with some traffic cones and road flares that launched out of the trunk along with the costumes

oh hey a BakuDeku interaction, don’t mind me, I’m just... [folds hands on desk and leans forward]

someone please tell me what he actually called Deku here because I’m dying to know. anyways whatever it was, “dumb-ku” is a great translation. it’s just the right amount of stupid and immature, and I love how Deku just fucking answers to it anyway like shrug, whatever

also love how the first thing Katsuki asks is whether anyone is hurt. swear to god this kid makes me love him more with each passing week

fond sigh

okay guys, I’m getting more and more excited here now, and let me explain why. it’s because Katsuki, despite having achieved (as Deku points out) a complete and perfect victory here, is very obviously agitated and angry still. and I think the reason for that is because even though he’s achieved the goal Endeavor set out for them, he still hasn’t achieved what he wanted from this internship. the other two have! Deku accomplished his goal of gaining more control over Blackwhip, and Shouto is now well on his way to mastering Flashfire. but Katsuki specifically came here with the intent of discovering something intangible that he couldn’t put a name to. and even though he’s gotten stronger just like the others, he still hasn’t achieved what he set out to do yet, and I think he’s getting frustrated by it. and the reason I’m so excited is because I think we’re inching closer and closer to seeing that finally get resolved. ahhhhhhh

(ETA: THIS CHAPTER IS THE MONKEY’S PAW WISH OF CHAPTERS.)

anyway I’ll shut up now and read. here’s Katsuki bragging to Endeavor, and Endeavor doing his best All Might impression what the fuck

that line could have come straight out of All Might’s mouth and it would have sounded 100% natural. well everyone, we did it. we fucking broke Endeavor. I hope you’re happy. lol what the fuck is happening what is this

DFKLSLDGHK

I fucking see those wobbly speech bubbles Endeavor, are you crying, because -- !! holy shit this chapter is taking my emotions all over the place

lol Kacchan’s pissed off that Endeavor isn’t more pissed off about being shown up by some punk kids

Deku’s eyes. this chapter. I just

ohhhhhhhhhhhh shit here we go

for everyone out there who was worried that Natsu would just forgive Endeavor outright after the events of this chapter, I think we’ve arrived at the part where your fears are assuaged. I pretty much expected this was how it would go down, because for all the criticism he’s been getting week after week, Horikoshi has been writing the Todorokis realistically and consistently throughout this entire arc, and this was the natural conclusion based on what we’ve seen up till now. Natsuo won’t just forgive Endeavor just like that, because why would he? and Endeavor just has to deal with it. and it’s all very sad and painfully real

SON OF A BITCH

the fucking words “I’m sorry” really just came out of his mouth at last, holy shit. this is the first time, right? as far as I can recall, anyway. oh shit

oh shit

my fucking jaw. just dropped. just. fuck me, I wasn’t ready for this. sure Enji, just go ahead and pour your heart out. lord

imagine if his voice actor goes all out in this scene like Katsuki’s did in episode 61. holy shit, I never thought the thing that destroyed me would be a sad confession in a fucking shounen manga by the character I used to despise. life is funny

ohhhhhhhhhh

[awkward glance around the fandom] soooo. how’s everybody doing? aheh. [coughs]

oh shiiiiiiIIIIItttt

oh look at that, Endeavor didn’t actually murder his child, who could have predicted that. but maybe I’ll just shut up now though since I’m not here to start any shit

and the pain train to feels junction just keeps on chugging. fuck

YOU SEE!! BRUTAL!! RUTHLESS!! SO REALISTIC IT HURTS. Endeavor is genuinely sorry, but it’s all coming way too late to be of any use! and Natsuo is so pained because he honestly probably would like nothing more than to be able to forgive his dad, and for them to all just be a happy, normal, loving family again, but he can’t. because they’re not. and apologies can’t erase the past, or make up for it. there is no way to change what happened. Touya’s still dead, and the scars from all those years of neglect and abuse are still fucking there, and they’re not just going to go away, even if Enji is remorseful. Enji becoming a good man now doesn’t make up for all the years that he wasn’t! he can’t just undo it! and that’s the tragedy of it!! you feel so bad for the man -- or at least, I do -- but at the same time, part of the atonement process is to accept the consequences of everything he did!

and also, for everyone saying he hasn’t faced any actual consequences yet -- one person in particular sent me a very detailed and thoughtful ask, which I apologize for not responding to yet -- I say this with all due respect: there. look. there are your consequences, right there. everything he will never have. everything he can’t salvage. the pain of knowing he was the cause of all this. the pain of seeing the misery in his son’s eyes and knowing he can’t fix it, and knowing the hurt he’s caused to the ones he loved most. that is karma. that’s a fucking punishment. that’s an agony beyond any physical torture that anyone could ever possibly dream up. his punishment is that after all these years, he finally gets to feel all of the suffering he’s inflicted on them, and he’d do anything to take it back now, but he can’t. that’s it! and we all fucking hate it, and no one is happy! and it’s not fucking fair! haha! but that’s how it fucking is, though. and I swear to god, I keep saying it, but it’s some of the most brutally realistic shit I’ve ever seen in a fucking manga. fuck

anyways, I need to stop monologuing or else I’m never going to finish this fucking chapter, but rest assured my soul is being ripped the fuck apart. hmm

:’)

(ETA: note the conspicuous lack of a Kacchan reaction panel directly after the “I’m never gonna forgive you” panel. everyone else gets one. but not him. in fact, there are no more reaction panels of him until this speech ends, and then we get one zoomed far away where we can’t really see his face. but I’m sure that’s all just a coincidence and means absolutely nothing! oh baby. what a chapter.)

:’)))))))

by the way, quick shoutout to that person in the taxi giving them the Rock Lee Eyes and having just no idea what the fuck is going on sob. thanks to you for keeping me from breaking into full on sobs here. I’m holding it together for you, random deer-in-headlights citizen

[INHALES!!!]

that’s it. I don’t. fuck. anyways. I ranted about all my feelings already, so just. ... you all get it by this point, right?

oh Kacchan. penny for your thoughts. I’m almost done with that essay I keep rewriting. you have a lot to think about right now huh

and Shouto. oh Shouto. safe to say this is a side of his father he’s never seen nor imagined he would see before

YOU GUYS THIS IS SO FUCKING IMPORTANT THOUGH, SHIT

[GRABS THIS PANEL AND FRANTICALLY WAVES IT ALL OVER THE BNHA TAG] I’M!!! JUST!!! SAYING!!! THOUGH!!!!!!!

oh, we’re still going? SURE WHY THE FUCK NOT

WHATEVER HORIKOSHI!!! JUST KEEP COMING AT ME, THEN!! GO AHEAD AND FINISH ME OFF WITH A FUCKING SUPLEX OF FEELS!! YOU SON OF A BITCH

and now Ending’s freaking the fuck out and screaming for Endeavor to stop. lol it’s like the villain version of Can’t Ya See-Kun. Endeavor you jackhole, this isn’t on brand! CUT IT OUT

forget it, Jake. it’s Character Development

now the police are arriving and Deku’s like THANK GOODNESS because the awkwardness was about to go critical here. meanwhile, pay no attention to how Katsuki is staring at him despite having no real reason to be in this panel!

[sidles up next to Kacchan] so hey fella. did any of that hit a nerve, perchance. did it open any metaphorical eyes. dust off any momentous revelations that you’ve been valiantly trying to keep shelved in your mental basement. have the SEEDS of your PERSONAL GROWTH been CULTIVATED. are the JEHOVAH’S WITNESSES of NOT BEING A DICK knocking at your inner door!?

anyway so now we’re cutting to Endeavor talking with the authorities while Chauffeur Armstrong tells him he needs to watch his back

friendly reminder that a bearded hermit flew around town on a glass hoverchair singing a song about Endeavor bringing darkness to the world or some shit not too long ago. that’s still a thing! better watch it Enji

HOLY FUCKARONI

(ETA: shoutout to that “neither does the light” line because that’s some straight up Harry Potter quotable bullshit and I love it and Endeavor’s character development continues to slay me that is all.)

FUCKING!!! CHRIST!!! OH GOD!!! OH JESUS!!!!

HMGGHHHHAAAA SOMEONE HELP ME OH MY GOD I’M SHAKING, AHHHHHHH

(ETA: listen you guys, in all of my “!!!!” I didn’t stop to appreciate all of the other things about this scene. but Shouto has changed into his hero costume which is a great little detail that I love because he obviously didn’t feel like standing around freezing his butt off and being oggled by the crowd. and then we have Natsu coming over to thank them all for saving his life, which is great, and he’s such a sweetheart. and then Deku actually saying “Bakugou” for probably the first and only time in his life lmao. and then, finally, his fucking face when he realizes Kacchan has finally chosen a hero name. he’s fucking ecstatic. he can’t wait!! anyway so Deku is me.)

NO BUT I’M FULLY SERIOUS YOU GUYS, I’M TREMBLING LIKE A FUCKING LEAF, IT’S PROBABLY THE CAFFEINE IN ME BUT STILL, OH MY GOD, I’M PARALYZED, I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN, MY HEART IS POUNDING, MY LIFE IS ABOUT TO BE FOREVER CHANGED, OH FUCKSTICKS, OH SHIT

NOOOOOOOOOOO

FUCK MY FUCKING -- WHERE IS HAWKS!!?!? WHERE IS HE!?!? I SWEAR TO GOD IF THAT FUCKING MAGPIE DOESN’T SWOOP DOWN RIGHT THE FUCK NOW WITH JEANIST IN TOW ALL “HAHA IT WAS ALL A MISUNDERSTANDING” I’M GOING TO --

(ETA: but lmao at the fact that Shouto was all “okay, so you’re not going to tell him, but what about me, your Best Friend?” like he really heard “DROP DEAD ASSHOLE” and thought “well, that was Midoriya though, LET ME TAKE A STAB AT IT.” this is the most earnest child in the universe and this OT3 continues to bring me boundless joy.)

FUCK

LISTEN YOU KNOW I LOVE THAT TODODRAMA, BUT YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT TO ME!! I’M A HUMAN BEING!! IF YOU CUT ME I BLEED!! WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE THIS. I’M GOING TO STRAIGHT UP CRY ALL OVER AGAIN YOU HEARTLESS PIECE OF SHIT

looool

“and his friends.” you hear that, Kacchan. now COME BACK OUT HERE AND TELL US YOUR HERO NAME RIGHT NOW YOUNG MAN!!!

Endeavor you better save this chapter. I’m counting on you dog

oh. oh shit

hahaha. well fuck

first of all, look at Mr. “la dee dah I’m just going to build my family a new house on a whim because I’m so fucking rich” over here, like, damn, Endeavor. and second of all my heart is just a bludgeoned hemorrhaging mass of feels at this point and I’m not even going to try to salvage it. and third of all, this is exactly the type of resolution I wanted, pain and all, and I’m so goddamn satisfied with it it’s almost ridiculous. because the man fucking gets it. for everyone who continues to doubt Endeavor’s intentions, look no fucking further than this. this isn’t a narcissist trying to gaslight his victims and get back in his family’s good graces and make it all about him yet again. this is a man who understands that the best thing for his family right now is for them to be allowed to piece their lives back together without him. and so he’s enabling them to do that, and voluntarily stepping out of the picture while still providing for them. and damn but I respect that so much. fuck yeah, Enji. this was the right thing to do. it doesn’t make up for all the mistakes you’ve made, because nothing can do that. but you’re a better man now, and this right here is exactly the type of thing people mean when they say actions speak louder than words. so, respect

and that’s it! we’ve officially experienced all of the human emotions in this chapter! oh and also that’s it, as in the chapter is done. so yeah. well that sure was a whirlwind now wasn’t it

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 9: In the Vernacular, Please be my Friend?

Lance and Keith exasperate themselves and each other, but they’re still trying to find common ground to stand on.

First  Previous  Next

Keith didn’t leave their quarters hardly at all for a movement after they were married. With the exceptions of the incident with Iverson and a minor confrontation with the still-angry seamsmaster (they still hadn’t gotten over the gloves debacle), Keith sequestered himself to their rooms. It seemed the alienating dining room and relatively unfriendly, unhelpful guards and courtiers made him feel unwelcome. Who could have guessed?

Despite the pointed comments from his parents, Lance did not press the issue. Adam brought him food, or Lance, when he wasn’t busy. Keith had seemed faintly surprised that Lance had bothered to do it himself. Like the idea of Lance doing something for him just because was an alien concept.

Over time, giving in to the pressure from the kings, he began to acquaint himself with the dining hall, where the royal family immediately began to invite some gaggle of courtiers or another, the library, which stored the entire civilization’s collected knowledge, and the grounds, where he occasionally absconded with some small plant he thought no one would miss.

Lance was alerted to this habit after one of the gardeners caught Keith stealing a golden regent orchid from a greenhouse. Unfortunately for the distressed gardener, the extremely rare and delicate flower was quite happy in their little garden, and thus Lance declared it would stay.

He’d watched Keith spend several vargas lying on the moss, gazing at the shimmering golden petals. He’d fallen asleep with his tail curled around the stem. Lance had made a note about the Galra kit’s curiosity, speaking to Pidge about ways to keep him busy while he eased his way into royal responsibilities.

At any rate, Keith grew somewhat accustomed to living at the Castle of Lions. By the end of the movement, Keith was starting to venture out for more than meals and stealing from the gardens. He’d even attended court with Lance, sitting on his right, holding his hand on the joined arms of their thrones. At one point, Lord Lanval had come forward to publicly apologize for his slight against the princes at their wedding banquet. Keith had graciously accepted, despite knowing the apology was a show.

In spite of all of this, Lance knows Keith wasn’t happy, and he isn’t exactly happy either. Unfortunately, there isn’t anything he can do.

Lance throws himself into his increasing duties, burying himself in the multitude of smaller concerns that his parents don’t have the time or energy for in the current political climate. Rumors ripple through the royal court and eventually the commonwealth about Crown Prince Lancel and the new practices he’s implementing, including adjusting how taxes are set.

Now, thanks to him, taxes are decided based on income against estimated needed expense. Said expense is not being estimated by courtiers, but by newly hired tax collectors, and based on specific criteria set by Lance, Adam, and Pidge. Keith had suggested that the tax collectors be required to wear pocketless uniforms while collecting, to which Lance had agreed.

“Lancel, everyone is charged the same amount on their taxes. It’s equality.”

“Yes, and farmers scrape by poaching the wilds while Lord Lanval hands us the top off his spare change at the end of the decaphob. This is better than equality, Father. This is equity .”

The appraising look he’d received from Alfor and the collection of small gifts from the agrarian population have been worth the hours-long-winded explanation he’d owed his fathers. The detail he’d had to go into had been excruciating. Coran had done his very best to speed things up, but had hindered more than helped. Lance loves him for his efforts.

Needless to say, he’s tired when he returns to their room much later with Keith’s dinner, finding him and Shiro sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace. They’re talking softly in Galran. Lance pretends not to understand as he sets Keith’s food on the end table.

“No, he didn’t,” Keith whispers, moving a piece on the board game he’d found in his upstairs loft. Lance has taken to leaving games and puzzles in places where Keith could find them. And any pretty trinkets he thinks the Galra might like. Keith doesn’t seem sure what to make of it, and frankly Lance isn’t sure he knows where the objects are even coming from. Perhaps they're more interesting to Keith as a mystery.

“Truly? That is how Alteans consummate their unions. He should have.” Keith shakes his head, and Shiro’s eyes slide to Lance. “Interesting.”

“He is interesting. I don’t hate him, I think.” Well that’s... marginally gratifying. “You don’t hate the attendant. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you like him.”

“You- You shut up!”

“I bet you just wanna eat him up, don’t you? All little and cute like he is.” Lance smiles at Adam as he prances in with the usual sigh and a swing of his hips. Shiro blusters.

“So. Are your fathers, Ancients bless them, stupid?”

“No, they’re just old. The tax system hasn’t been changed since my great-grandfather Mahi was king and it's always been enough to fund the Crown so if it’s not visibly broken, why fix it?” Lance explains. “I think Dad was on board from the beginning. And Father just wants to give me a hard time every now and then. Payback, I guess.”

Adam sighs, datapad clutched in one hand. He pushes his glasses up his nose with the other. “No, he doesn’t. He just…”

“Thinks I’m an idiot?” Lance offers. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith keeps playing with Shiro’s visibly perked ears. They bend back with Keith’s manhandling, only to bounce right back into place. Keith seems to find it very funny, snickering each time they spring forward.

“Lance, you’ve done your best to convince them both that you’re an idiot. Where does this tablet go?”

“It was swiped from the library. Just put it on the nightstand. No, no. The other nightstand. On Keith’s side.” Lance lifts yesterday’s vest from the floor. “I find it interesting that Father buys it, and Dad does not.”

“But not surprising?” Keith asks, briefly glancing at Lance, tugging on Shiro’s ear. The adult Galra seems content with the manhandling. Lance wonders if it's normal to let kits maul you.

“Oh Ancients, no. Dad’s a terrible judge of character, but he knows me too well to be fooled.”

“So King Alfor is a terrible father who doesn’t know his own son?” Shiro asks, swatting playfully at his brother’s hand.

“No, he was just on his own for a long time. After Melinor died, he had Altea, Daibazaal, me and Allura, Coran, and, well. You can guess what happened-”

Keith laughs from where he’s still seated on the floor with his brother.

Lance frowns, turning to watch them. He notices Shiro’s still-perked ears and attentive eyes, fixed on Adam as the attendant begins picking up the trail of misplaced items Lance constantly leaves in his wake. There aren’t that many.

Shiro’s ears are so expressive, their movements as important as his smile.

But Keith... Keith’s ears are mostly stationary, no matter what. They rotate when he hears a noise and they wilt or twitch sometimes, but mostly when he is unsure of himself. Otherwise, they’re just kind of there, like he’s not entirely sure how to move them. That, combined with his generally reserved demeanor, suggests to Lance that Keith doesn’t know how to express himself.

The longer Lance spends with Keith, which admittedly isn’t much, the more he suspects that Keith spent most of his life alone.

It breaks his heart, really. Keith’s actually kind of sweet. He strikes Lance as a gentle soul, and a warm one, when he’s allowed to be. His fond teasing of Shiro regarding his apparent infatuation with Adam stands as a testament to that.

“You should just talk to him.”

“Shut up.”

“He’s stopped looking like he’ll run away if you try.”

“Wait, what? He’s scared of me?”

Keith falters, tries his best to backtrack. “Oh, no, Shiro. Of course not. I’m sure he was just stressed. He’s not scared of you.”

Adam’s absolutely intimidated by the enormous Galra soldier, but Lance isn’t. The man’s adorable.

“Hey Shiro, got any hobbies?” Lance asks. Keith leans over and whispers something that set his brother’s ears aflurry.

“Oh. Um. Well, actually, I like gardening.” Out of the corner of his eye, Lance sees Adam pause before going back to fiddling with the bed canopy.

“When he retires, he wants to open an apothecary,” Keith supplies.

“Really? Well that’s very interesting,” Lance says. “Adam here has quite the interest in botany himself, don’t you? Quite the physik, actually.”

Adam smooths over a pillowcase unnecessarily. “Yes.”

“Perhaps you can exchange comunique codes and compare notes. You leave tomorrow night, don’t you Shiro?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes I do, I’m afraid. Royal Advisor Krolia has been doing both her job and mine, so I really can’t stay longer.”

“I see.” Lance notices how Keith’s mood drops drastically with the turn of conversation. “Well please come back and visit when you can. You are family now, and always welcome. Just let us know before you arrive so I can make sure you won’t starve.”

Shiro smiles with gratitude. “Thank you, Lance.” The man rises to his towering height. “I’d best begin packing my things. Keith, you stay here and at least try to be friends with your husband.”

“Shiro-”

“No, Keith.” Shiro lays a hand on Keith’s head. “It will get easier. I promise. But you need to try, too. He is.”

Keith nods, studying the half-finished board game in front of him, now devoid of an opponent. Lance turns to Adam, addressing him in Altean. “Can you give us a minute? It’s tricky to get him to talk, and he won’t if you’re here.”

Adam abandons his fiddling. “I’d best go speak to Pidge if I’m to get that comms code set up. It’ll be valuable to have another source inside the Galra fold. Perhaps the captain will be useful.”

Lance heaves a sigh, sitting down where Shiro had been before. “Hey-”

“Did you know I can speak Altean?” Keith murmurs, studying the game board. Quiznak.

“Did you know I speak Galran?” The two stare at each other for a moment. Then sigh, shoulders drooping. “We have to stop doing this. We have to stop trying to get one over on each other,” Lance says. “We’re the only people we know we can trust-”

“I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Lance bites his lip. “I trust you. I don’t think you would hurt me. Not at all.”

“Lance, I’ve been trained specially to kill you.”

“And?” Lance shrugs. “I’ve been trained how to kill you . That’s how it is... You know, we could have met in battle. We could have fought each other. One of us could have killed the other. Been celebrated for it. Rewarded.” Keith’s ears wilt. He doesn’t seem to like that idea any more than Lance does.

“What do you want, Lance?” Lance moves one of Shiro’s pieces and hands Keith the twenty-sided die. Keith tosses the die, moves a piece, and on it goes.

“Shiro leaves tomorrow,” Lance observes. The ears droop further, tail limp against the floor. “I wanted to see how you’re doing. See if there’s anything I can do.”

Keith’s quiet for a long time, amethyst eyes dull and downcast. Lance sighs, assumes he’s not going to make any progress today.

“Okay, Keith. That’s alright-”

“My brother is leaving, and I will be alone here. I miss my mother.” Of course. Of course he does. “It- It hurts.” Of course it hurts. Keith’s still a kit. He still has that powerful kit’s bond with his mother, with his pack. “There’s not a whole lot to be done.” Keith pulls out his datapad and dims the lights to nothing. It’s just the fire, no moon to shine through the domed glass roof of the tower above. “It’ll get better, the longer we’re separated.”

“I can get you a comms code-”

“No. Thank you, but that will make it worse. In a few movements, maybe a phoeb, I’d like that, but for now, this is best.”

It’s only later, when they’re in bed, that Lance realizes exactly what’s happening to Keith. Parent-child bonds are powerful things for Galra. Keith’s have remained even as his mother served in battles during the second war. Normally, such a bond fades during a Galra’s final growth.

Now, that bond is being forced apart before its time. Again.

Lance can only imagine what all of Keith’s loss and moving around and such has done to him. He notices the Galra trying to massage his own ears, self-soothing, hears a tiny, smothered chirp. Distressed. He scoots closer, reaches out, replaces Keith’s fingers with his own.

"It's alright, Keith. I've got you."

The Galra tenses for a moment, relaxes. Lance can hear him purring as he settles. He is this kit’s primary pack-member now. He’ll take good care of him. He trusts Keith to return the favor if he gets a chance.

“Keith?” A hum of acknowledgement. “I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m sorry that you’re still a kit and I’m sorry about your family and I’m sorry that you’re here.”

“If you’re sorry, then help me do better. Make sure it doesn’t have to happen to our children.”

“I swear it. On my life.”

[sage-druid]

Broken Promises

Part 4 of:  The Love of Every Lifetime to Come

When Ishara discontinued the spell, Helena totally lost all control over her emotions. With tears streaming down her face, she went to run to MC. Ishara stopped her by grabbing Helena's hand. "We spoke of this Helena.", Ishara scolded. "You are of no use to her in this state and we agreed that she would never know you were here. You gave me your word, Helena Klein." Now when the Queen of the elves calls you by your full name, you know you better sit up and pay attention. Breaking your word to a Queen has severe consequences in any realm or world, for that matter.

Helena understood completely. No other words needed to be said. Instead, Helena dropped to her knees and declared, "I owe you my life, my Queen." This is the first time that she used that title out of an act of total respect. It did not bring the same feelings as it had done in the past. This was a Queen she could follow. A Queen who possessed much of the same growth power that she did. A Queen who saw the goodness in her and blessed her with the gift of life. "Thank you for saving me and returning the life to my body."

"I did not bring you to life, my dear", Ishara replied as she bowed her head. She turned and looked towards MC. "I suspect that there are a many of great things that we do not yet understand about MC. Whether out of love or desperation, the reason for your return is your betrothed. I am still unaware of how this happened and must reflect more on the matter. But you stated that she has no possession of magical ability, yet this ability to bring back life goes well beyond my capabilities. I sense that things may have changed considering what she is capable of. Although, I shall admit that I am unsure how this occurred. You said that her world creates things when there is a need? Perhaps there is no greater need than to preserve love?" Helena rose to her feet and looked at her love in total awe. She was speechless. There was truly no finer gift than death and life all within the same day. Death of the woman who tormented her for so long. Besides the countless instances where she promoted a positive change that gave Helena will to live a new life, she had now brought life to her in a new way. She was the sole reason for her resurrection. This brought a completely different view of the amount of love that MC had for Helena. In that instant, she felt a love that went beyond what anyone else had ever or could ever provide to her. MC was absolutely the love of multiple lifetimes and she proved it with both actions. Helena was protected and resurrected. No one would ever do that for her. With that thought Helena bowed to Ishara and took her leave.

Ishara stood silent and gazed at the still sleeping MC. She was pleased that Helena had left, for it gave her the opportunity to release her own emotions. I single tear fell from Ishara's eye as she looked longingly at MC. "Oh my precious child, how do we help you get past such a tragic view of yourself?". She now thought back to what she had witnessed in the mind of MC:

"You BITCH! The only promise I ever made to her and you made me break it! I swore to her that you would never hurt her again. With my dying breath I will make sure that you never touch her again!". This was the thought that went through her mind when she hurled towards the Witch Queen. " I am sorry sorry I failed you, sweetheart. I am so sorry that I broke my promise. Please forgive my weakness. I wish I was stronger and could have spared you this pain." These were the words, spoken only in her mind, as she held Helena's lifeless body in her arms and kissed her dearly.

MC awoke. Her mind was now fully aware of every excruciating detail, including her thoughts. She screamed in agony. Ishara placed her hand on her shoulder. Ishara said no words. But the look on her face created a serene effect with MC. They understood each other with no need to vocalize it. Ishara bent down and kissed MC on the forehead and said, "Had you been of this world, I would have wished for you to be my daughter. Your soul is so pure and filled with compassion for those around you. Your heart has a great ability to provide healing to others. Please allow yourself to heal the pain you feel now. The threat has been removed." MC continued to cry and hugged Ishara. "I would have like to have had you as my mother." she said as she laid her head on Ishara's shoulder. Ishara continued to hold her for many moments.

It was the day before the ceremony and everyone was feeling festive. Well, almost everyone. Helena kept a watchful eye on MC. "Now that MC's memories have returned, I think that we should celebrate tonight." suggested Iseul. August nodded his head in agreement and said, "I really could use a night to relax." Altea snuffed, "Any excuse for a party, eh, Isuel?" He quickly replied "Can you think of a better reason to celebrate? The evil Witch Queen is finally dead." Saerys chimed in with "I will admit that this is the best reason to celebrate. We should enjoy the final demise of evil incarnate herself. Count me in Iseul." Isuel looked at MC and asked "Will you join us? It's not much of a party without the presence of the person who put an end to this madness". MC only nodded her head and let out a sigh.

Helena could see the look in MC's eyes. She knew MC was really not in the festive spirit and that her act of acceptance was only to make the others happy. This seemed to be a pattern with MC. She would give up her own comfort at the expense of others feelings, like it was an innate necessity to do such. Helena wrapped her arms around MC from behind and kissed her tenderly on the neck. MC hummed a contented sigh and said "This is the only place I desire to be, babe. Right here in your arms. Will you just hold me like this forever?" Helena, grabbed MC chin and guided it towards hers and leaned in a kissed MC deeply. This kiss answered MC's question without any doubt. Then Helena spoke and said "You can have every life. I will hold you like this, no matter which life we are in."

"We must prepare for tomorrow's ceremony." declared Reiner. MC rolled her eyes and the look on her face was of pure dread. "Helena, your presence has been requested by King Barzilai to help prepare for the festivities. We will need to return to the to the castle to make preparations."

"Will you be alright, my love, if I take leave for a while?" asked Helena. "Sure. I am fine. Go fulfill your duty." MC smiled as she replied. Altea walked up and looked at Helena and said "I'll take care of her. Nothing will happen on my watch." Helena smiled and nodded her head and then very genuinely spoke to Altea. "I trust the most talented wizard of all the land to keep my love safe." Altea blushed and nodded.

It had been about five hours and already Iseul was buying rounds for the entire tavern. The Retainers were in such a festive mood. August, having one way too many jumped up on a table and started singing songs of glory that were known to everyone in the tavern. All joined in with him and were signing loudly. It was like karaoke in a dive bar, but it was fun. They Saerys chimed in and he and Iseul began getting the tavern into a frenzy by chanting continuously: "Witch Queen Slayer! Witch Queen Slayer! Witch Queen Slayer!" MC smiled kindly, and thoroughly enjoyed her friends having a well deserved great time at her expense.

Moments later, Helena, Ishara and Reiner entered the tavern to relax and partake in the festivities. Of course the only festivity that Helena desired was MC. Helena walked up to MC and kissed her so passionately, that MC wanted to leave at that exact moment and go enjoy the company of Helena in private. "I have missed you, my love, and have longed for your kisses.", whispered Helena in MC's ear. MC's eyes lit up. She longed for more and her motion towards Helena's still open lips, to continue the kiss, left Helena expectant. It was the first time, since yesterday that Helena felt as if there was a possibility that MC would return to her as the same woman. She felt the excitement and desire in her kiss. This set Helena's heart (and other body parts) ablaze with passion. Helena was ready to whisk her away and enjoy a night of passion

"Promises, promises, promises, that's all you ever do." Altea said jokingly to Iseul. "I don't know why you even bother wasting your breath. You never keep your promises anyway."

MC stood up and smiled at Helena. "Hey, I will be back in a bit, okay?" she asked of Helena. "Would you like me to accompany you my love." Helena replied. With a glazed look on her face, she smiled, kissed Helena on the cheek and replied "No, babe, I think I can manage this on my own. I love you." She turned and walked out of the door of the tavern. She had no sooner reached the outside and closed the door, when she set into a full on sprint to get away from that tavern as quickly as possible.

Ishara looked alarmed. She look at Helena and said "Your love. She needs you at once. The time has come." She frantically looked back at Reiner and said, "I am afraid we may need your assistance Reiner." She ran full pace towards the door. Reiner and Helena followed her. When they reached the outside, MC was no where to be found. Ishara stopped and took in a deep breath. A green glow formed at her fingertips. She moved her arms in such a fashion as if searching for something. At one point the glow in her fingers moved up to her arms and glowed furiously. It was like a magical homing device. "This way!" she exclaimed. Both Reiner and Helena followed quickly in pursuit. When they reached their destination, none of the trio could believe what they saw.

MC was in a frenzied state. She was violently punching and battering a tree. Her screams sent chills up and down the spine of Reiner. He had never seen anything like this. There was so much blood due to the fact that MC had accosted the tree with so much power that her arms and face were covered with bits of blood and bark. In fact the damage to her face made it clear to all three that she must have head-butted the tree several times. She screamed, "NOOO! It's not fair. I was supposed to protect her. You made me break my promise and I HATE you!" At that moment Ishara understood that the tree was, in the mind of MC, the Witch Queen. She was reliving the moment, but getting in the words she never said aloud. She turned to look at Helena to tell her to go to her, but Helena would never wait that long for that prompt. Helena thinking fast, quickly conjured a blue rope and immediately bound it around MC to prevent her from doing further damage. She ran to her and took her face in her hands with such a desperation.

"Oh my love, what is this demon that haunts you so? Speak the name of this demon, my love." Helena pleaded as tears rolled down her face. "We shall defeat this monster together."

"NOOOO!" screamed MC. "I do not deserve you." MC dropped to her knees in front of Helena. Ishara smiled and sighed, "Finally, the healing can begin." she stated. Reiner looked at her, clearly not understanding the situation.

"I am so sorry, Helena. I am so sorry that I failed you. I made one promise and I couldn't even keep that! Please, I beg you. Please forgive me. I am so sorry I couldn't save you. I am so very sorry", MC wailed as she delivered her plea.

Once in a lifetime, a person, if one is lucky, they will find that perfect person who completes them. Some people refer to this as being soulmates. There is that moment when you find that key that fits the lock perfectly. In this moment, two women who were equally wounded found their meaning for breathing and living within each other. It was truly beautiful to see this synchronized dance of love and affection take hold. Helena, without thought had instantly healed her love of a million lifetimes with one single statement.

Helena grabbed MC head and looked straight into her eyes and said with tears steaming down her face: "Oh my sweet love, do you not understand? You did not break your promise at all. You kept it in the most beautiful way. She will never hurt me again, ever. She will never hurt anyone ever again. Your promise was kept and you saved me in so many ways. You are my hero."

Their kiss, could have brought light to the night sky. Nothing, as much as that kiss had ever shone so brightly. It was a power that could light the world forever. They were, in that moment, complete. Helena had managed to defeat the monster within MC, just as MC had defeated the monster of her life. They were, each other's hero.

[buriedinbleach]

Because it's no nut November i have a mighty need and gotta know how would our resident sexy head of the kuchiki clan byakuya , kensei , and shunsui handle it. What measures would their s/o take to get them to crack ?

Damn, I meant to get this out yesterday. But at least we know how everyone faired for the month, right?Enjoy! Needless to say, Shunsui would be the easiest uh... ‘nut’ to crack.

Byakuya:

-Byakuya would have heard Renji and some of the others mentioning the idea of ‘No Nut November’ in passing. He would decide to try it out just to challenge himself.

-He wouldn’t tell anyone about his bet… with himself. Not even his s/o. He’s a private man and nobles do not walk around talking about such things. With his s/o, he would have different reasons. Normally he would share everything with them, but this would be something he would prefer to keep to himself.

-His s/o would figure it out pretty quickly. Byakuya wouldn’t be with someone who was slow on the uptake. She would need to be someone who is an intellectual and romantic match.

-Byakuya isn’t a man you can just pin down and try to rile him up. No, he takes very careful, very subtle persuasion. So you better be patient. Really patient.

-Just be in his presence more than normal each day. Sit with him while he goes over reports or Kuchiki clan business. Chose a different spot that inches slightly closer to him every day.

-In passing, go about your business just like normal. But make sure every time you walk by, you brush past him in one way or another; fingertips caressing his, hips pressed just a little too closely, and make sure he smells your perfume. It’ll be one he had made specifically for you, it never fails to remind him of you, or the thank you he received for it.

-Wear lingerie. The lacier the better. But don’t show him outright full images of you in nothing but and expensive lace bra and underwear set. Subtlety is still key, so only give him flashes of the bra strap, a peek at the lacey cup and your cleavage as you bend over to kiss him goodnight, or let you rob slip open just a fraction wider than it should so he can see your nylons and garter.

-Finally, when you know you’re wearing him down, join him in the Kuchiki’s private onsen after you’ve directed the household staff not to bother you for the night.

-Byakuya would indeed make it through ‘No Nut November’ but the second the clock strikes midnight, he’s not going to be able to help himself from attacking you, even in the onsen. And he’ll have stamina to spare. He has a whole month to make up for after all.

Kensei:

-Kensei would agree to ‘No Nut November’ if it was a competition, probably with Shinji and Shuhei. Nobody likes a competition more than Kensei. And no one is more determined to win than Kensei.

-They would both immediately regret getting him involved in the challenge almost immediately. Kensei is a grump on the best of days, but holding in all that tension for a month? He’s going to make sure that everyone in the Ninth suffers right alone with him, without really knowing he’s doing it.

-Shinji would take it upon himself to visit with Kensei’s s/o and let her know that she needs to take matters into her own hands.

-Start slowly. Kensei is proud and wont give up his bet without a fight. When you’re eating dinner together, make sultry “mmm” noises when you’re eating. His mind will immediately switch to the other times he hears you make those noises. He’ll ball his fist and glare, but that’s how you know its starting to work.

-Go train in the gym with him. He would be your no. 1 personal trainer/boyfriend, so he wouldn’t think anything of it. Until you walk in wearing some figure-hugging workout gear. He’ll take extra pains to correct your form in excruciating detail; rubbing his hands on your back, your thighs, and your ass before finally getting ahold of himself.

-Its an established fact that Kensei is weak for body worship. Sit down on the couch with him, rub his shoulders, his back, his chest; all while making little comments about how strong he is, how hot he is, you can even throw in one about how much you wish he’d touch you if you really want to test him.

-Speaking of touch, make him watch you touch yourself. If he won’t help you get your release, you’ll just have to do it yourself. Make every movement painfully slow. His eyes will be so dark, his fists so tight you’ll wonder how his hands didn’t break.

-He’ll make it to midnight, but you better clear both your calendars for the foreseeable future. Kensei is going to rail you on every flat surface of the house… twice, before all that pent up energy is finally released. He’ll be damned if he’d ever lose to Shinji and Shuhei.

Shunsui:

-Shunsui’s heard the rumors going around the Seireitei, but he just laughs at the poor bastards who’ve agreed to take part in the challenge. He has no intention of denying himself his s/o for an entire month.

-However, when he loses a bet (to Lisa) his groan of displeasure could be heard far and wide.

-Since he had no motivation to join the rest of the fools in this contest in the first place, his s/o thinks it’ll be no problem getting him to crack. Wrong. Lisa would have put harsh penalties in place if he decides to cheat - lots of them.

-Normally the picture of calm and relaxation, Shunsui is clearly edgy when he can’t get off. His jaw will be set tight, dark circles under his eyes, and his sleep is fitful. No more use for those lazy naps when you can’t sleep. He’ll over-dramatize every little thing, making it clear that he’s a tortured soul (even if others don’t know the real reason behind his sudden mood swing).

-Lucky for his s/o, Shunsui is the easiest of the bunch of budge on his commitment.

-Ply him with a little sake - not too much - and snuggle up next to him in bed or in the gardens. Let your fingers trace a lazy pattern over the hair smattering his chest and slowly inch lower.

-The first time it happens Shunsui will remember his bet with Lisa. Damning himself internally as he tells you no. The disappointed look on your face is almost worse than the ache throbbing in his body. Almost. However, seeing the look in his eyes will give you all the encouragement you need to try again.

-Before trying again right away, give it a few days. Let him see you stepping out of the bath or shower naked, taking just long enough before getting dressed. Or walk around the bedroom with hardly anything on. Shunsui wont say a word, but you’ll know its working when you catch him waiting, unabashedly staring, as you get out of the shower.

-Snuggle next to him in bed that night and let your hands roam freely over his muscles. He has absolutely no intention of stopping you this time, punishment for losing the bet be damned. Shunsui will even be the one guiding your hand down to where he really wants to feel you, giving you a steamy - passionate - kiss while he does it. You can forget any Soul Reaper business you had the next day, you won’t have enough stamina to stand by the time Shunsui’s done with you.

[soontobecyborg]

Delilah Redemption fic idea (AU)

I don’t know if I’ll ever get around to writing this (my hands are getting worse and it’s all I can do to finish the long fic I’m working on now). But I wanted to have it out there. If anyone feels inspired to do this or some variation of it, feel free!

Concept: Delilah's mother never has her jaw broken by that guard. The two of them make a life on the streets and the fringes of society. Delilah becomes Sokolov’s apprentice and begins to make a name for herself. For the first time in years she and her mother have a roof over their heads and food in their bellies every single night. Delilah is still bitter and angry about her lot in life, she'll never not be. But she has her mother and it tempers her rage. Just as things are looking up...

Her mother gets sick with some kind of new illness. "The rat plague" begins sweeping through her district and her poor mother never had a chance. Delilah, grieving and looking for answers, knows these rats aren't native to Gristol. She's lived on the streets all her life and something smells rotten.  She begins to look into the origin of these foreign rodents herself.

Delilah takes a position washing sheets at the brothel to be as close to as many tipsy nobles in one place as she can. Her eavesdropping reveals a few leads. Those leads take her all the way to Dunwall Tower! 

She thinks the worst, of course. Her memories of Jessamine have been tainted by time and anger. She is absolutely ready to believe the Empress is killing off the poor. But she needs proof. After all, every Empress has enemies and if she can get Parliament to remove her…

Delilah manipulates Sokolov into allowing her to paint the Empresses’ portrait! Delilah tries to keep her calm. She really does. But Jessamine is the worst subject she’s ever had. She won’t hold still, she keeps talking to advisers… and she doesn’t even recognize Delilah! Not even a flash of recollection when Sokolov introduces her by name!

Hand shaking, Delilah tries to get through the first stages of the composition. She’s really just here to have an excuse to sneak around the Tower. But then Jessamine says something like “This must be exciting for you! Your first time in Dunwall Tower.” 

Delilah goes off, snarling about inequality and nobles. It’s a screed that’s been building inside of her every day for years. Jessamine’s face goes stoney and she tells everyone to get out. Once they’re alone…

Jessamine gets up slowly. “I knew you looked familiar.” Her face softens and she almost smiles. “I’m glad you’re doing well.” Jessamine bites her lip a bit before she continues.

Delilah goes very still. Her fingers tighten around the palette scrapper in her hand.

“Your mother transferred and I never saw you again. So I—”

“What?” Delilah snaps.

Jessamine obviously isn’t used to be spoken to this way, but she takes it in stride. “To the bakery on Bunting Avenue. Is she still working there?”

Total confusion until Delilah figures it out. “They told you my mother… transferred positions? To a fancy bakery?”

Jessamine pales.

Long emotional conversation where it’s revealed Jessamine never found out the true consequences of placing the blame on Delilah. Young Jessamine asked about Delilah a few days later when her friend still hadn’t come to play and her father told her Delilah’s mother had gotten a new job in town. And he certainly never told her about Delilah’s lineage.

And Delilah decides to keep that secret to herself for now.

She corrects Jessamine’s misinformation about what happened to her and her mother with a snarl and spares no excruciating detail. Jessamine is devastated. Or maybe it’s a convincing ruse, Delilah thinks. Jessamine always was a good little liar.

The meeting ends as amicably as you would expect, but Delilah does return to the Tower a few more times to finish the portrait. She and Jessamine talk privately each time. Jessamine thinks they’re bonding but Delilah is probing her for intel. And after each meeting, Delilah looks for proof her half-sister is running a secret campaign of class-genocide. 

But… that’s not what she finds. It’s the Royal Spymaster, Hirram Burrows, behind the plot and he’s doing it behind Jessamine’s back. Jessamine is fighting to help the poor (in her own way, from afar, through policy and diplomacy rather than getting her hands dirty, Delilah sneers to herself).

Delilah heads home to gather her thoughts. But before Delilah can figure out what to do with this new information… an assassin strikes! Burrows was suspicious of the new painter who spent so much time alone with the Empress recently and Delilah wasn’t exactly subtle when she searched his office either. Thinking Jessamine might be on to him, Burrows sends Daud to kill Delilah (who he thinks is working for Jessamine) as she walked home.

Laying in a gutter, bleeding out from Daud’s blade, Delilah curses the entire world. She curses Burrows, Daud, Jessamine. All she ever did was struggle to survive and now to have it all ripped away…

Enter the Outsider. He tells Delilah that she is at an important crossroads in her life. The decisions she makes with the power he’s about to give her could change the Empire… for the better or for the worse.

She wakes up, healed, and bearing a mark she’s only ever seen at those strange shrines. Now Delilah has power. And she has a choice.

If Burrows thinks that Jessamine was on to his plot, that means he’s going to make a move soon. Delilah has the power to bring bring Burrows to justice, and save the Empress. But should she? Or could she let Jessamine die then overthrow Burrows? Her claim to the throne would be uncontested…

The resentment Delilah harbors towards Jessamine is old and deep, but can she really allow a man like Burrows to get away with starting a plague that killed her mother and half her district? 

In the end, Delilah makes her way back to the Tower, having collected runes and learned about her powers. She intervenes in the assassination attempt on Jessamine. Daud wasn’t expecting to see his former victim alive and well, and bearing the same Mark he has! (Corvo is still out at sea, since Burrows moved up the plot b/c of Delilah’s snooping). Daud and the whalers flee. They did not get paid enough to deal with this unexpected bullshit!

Delilah spills all the tea about Burrows but the Royal Spymaster ran as soon as he saw Daud fail.

Once Corvo gets back, the three of them hunt down Daud, but let him live and use him to find Burrows. There’s some bonding and angst between Delilah and Jess. The big sister reveal happens. There’s emote.

In the end Delilah gets a good look at the life of an Empress and realizes she’d never have been happy on the throne. Her fantasies of mass adoration were just that. Fantasies that grew from a place of deep insecurity. And now Delilah has a better idea of who she is. Her whole life she was defined by Euhorn Kaldwin’s broken promises and fantasies of what could have been. But now she’s going to make her own life. Live her way. 

Delilah heads off on her own and uses her powers for... good-ish. She’s not a saint. She does plenty of self-serving things with her new power, but after spending so much time trying to stop Burrows crusade against the poor... well, she’d feel like a hypocrite using her power to better her own position in life and no one else’s. And Delilah does hate a hypocrite. 

I imagine a kind of Red Jenny situation unfolding where she helps servants get back at the people who abuse them. Only Delilah doesn’t play pranks... she sees those abusive men and women utterly ruined. Delilah has political ambitions too, just not the way she used to. Her sister can have the throne, and the societal chains that go with it. Delilah enjoys the freedom her anonymity gives her. 

Jessamine’s time with Delilah changed her, opened her eyes. She becomes increasingly unpopular with the nobility as she pushes for social and economic reforms. But Delilah helps her dear sister when she can. 

For example, a few key members of Parliament who were planning to vote down a new law ensuring Workers’ Rights change their votes at the last minute. Jessamine decides not to ask how they were swayed. The important thing is, Gristol has its first set of labor laws. 

I feel like it would take 100k to convincingly have Delilah work through her anger towards Jessamine. But I would love to see it!

Bonus points if, years later, Delilah helps depose Luca Abele for his horrible treatment of the Serkonan people.

Extra bonus points if she meets a miserable noblewoman at a party named Breanna Ashworth, recently widowed, and the two hit it off.

[pollylynn]

NYC Midnight Short Story Contest 2017—Round 1

I'm the person who cried wolf about prompt difficulty, but this was hard

Heat: 83

Genre: Action/Adventure

Object: An investment

Character: An Airplane Maintenance Technician

Title: Green

Synopsis: In a post-apocalyptic world, a pirate and a hostage take a gamble. 

“I wasn't always a pirate.”

They were the first words she’d spoken in hours. The first words she’d spoken to me at all. I wasn’t really the target audience for her back-and-forth with the goons in the gangway outside my unit when they’d grabbed me. When she’d had them grab me.

“Ok.” I waited a decent pause before offering the word. What I hoped was a decent pause under the circumstances. “I wasn’t always a hostage.”

She laughed at that. Surprised the hell out of me—a harsh exhalation and the hitch of her shoulders before the lines of anything like emotion smoothed out of her. “You’re not a hostage.”

My eyebrows shot up. An unfortunate, involuntary movement that reopened what must have been quite a gash. Strapped tightly to the seat with my hands lashed together, the blood trickled  unchecked down my temple. A striking Am too! visual, utterly lost on her as she kept her eyes on the road.

The road.

“This is an Auto,” I blurted.

It hadn’t been before. My memory was black-and-white bursts, like a heavy door rolling down and up inside my throbbing head. The grab. A run-of-the-mill heli on hand that had slipped seamlessly into the light evening traffic. Knowing and not knowing for long stretches, courtesy of the roughing up they'd given me, but I’d remember a fucking auto.

Information flooded in, too fast for my aching head. Scent, sight, and the sudden realization that the itch of drying blood was likely to be the least of my problems.

“It’s a fucking ancient, gas-powered Auto.” My head whipped toward her. A rapid move that brought on nausea, black at the edges of my vision, and instant regret. “What kind of a pirate are you?”

“The kind with a conscience.”

The reply was swift. Sharp and unexpected. Our eyes met in the confines of the rear-view mirror. A strange, curiously intimate sensation. Her lips parted, out of frame. Her brows drew together. Fine lines like words I could very nearly read. Very nearly, but her gaze flicked to the side mirror just then.

“The kind with a tail. Fuck.”

She jerked the wheel and jammed the accelerator to the floor. She muttered something. Too soon, maybe. The lumbering body of the car lurched side to side as she steered through gaps in the refuse cluttering the decaying road that seemed nonexistent until we were through them.

“Who?” I writhed against my restraints. Craned my neck trying to see, but my range of motion was nonexistent. Heaps of rusted out metal blurred by. Toppled furniture, luggage, toys, all of it from more years ago than it was worth counting. All of it from a world that used to be. “Who the hell would follow you out here?”

“Not who. What,” she muttered.  “Aerial surveillance. Unmanned. Better be, anyway.”

She ducked her head to peer up through the spider-webbed windshield. To scan the sky for the source of the buzz close enough now to hear over the roar of the car’s engine. I envied her the view for a fraction of a second. Envied her the freedom of movement until I realized it was about to kill us both.

“Left,” I shouted. I hurled myself against the straps with bruising force. The fibrous cuffs around my wrists cut into my skin as I desperately tried to gesture. “Hard left!”

“I see.” She sounded annoyed. Far more annoyed than anyone deliberately hurtling toward certain death had a right to be.

At the last second, we cleared it. The dark, hulking silhouette of a tractor. Mostly cleared it. The Auto was huge, as well as ancient. The back quarter panel just managed to clip one enormous tire. The contact smacked the rear end off on a tangent.

We spun ninety degrees as a groan split the air. Through the driver’s side window, I watched, open-mouthed as years of corrosion met gravity. The tractor shuddered and fell in on itself. The cab toppled, taking out another of the slumping tires and setting off a chain reaction. Abandoned loads toppled off truck beds. Massive tree limbs, dead and gray like the rest of the landscape, raked the air. Reached out with brittle fingers to claw at the relics of lives interrupted a lifetime ago.

“What?” The question was out of my mouth before I realized what I was asking. Before I realized that the she’d hauled the front of the Auto almost all the way around. That we’d slowed to a crawl, apparently to take in the show. “What are you . . .?”

The question died in my mouth as it swooped into view. The black silhouette of a drone. Old school. Not car old school, but a bulky shape I’d never seen in the air. Never dreamed I’d see in the air. It hovered unsteadily, as if it had never dreamed it, either. The din of its rotors drowned out even the drumbeat of the badly idling car.

I found my voice again. Found the urgent question caught in my teeth, but it was too late by then. The drone erupted. The world erupted in chattering confusion.

“Target confusion.” She hauled the wheel, hand over hand, and slammed the accelerator to the floor again.

“Bullets.” I finally managed to choke out the world. “That thing was shooting fucking bullets.”

Her eyes were on the road. They had to be, but she spared me a sidelong glance. She spared me a grin and a sweeping, one-handed gesture to the gray landscape flickering in and out of view as we wound through the piles of rubble. “Welcome to life beyond the perimeter.”

**************************

“You won’t run.” The words were matter of fact. A statement, not a threat.

“Not at the moment.” I lifted my still-cuffed hands and let them fall back into my lap, a wasted gesture in the absolute black of whatever structure she’d pulled the car into.

Her only answer was an unnerving, unmistakable snick. The lumi-strips on her suit flickered to life, scrolling up her arms and across her chest. Illuminating her face from below to eerie effect. She reached for me, leading with the now-open knife. I jerked against the seat, but she was only going for the straps, slicing through them in rapid succession.

“Not now.” She flicked a glance toward my wrists. Wavered half a second before deftly sweeping the the blade through the tough fabric of the cuffs. “Not in an hour. Not along the way. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Why’s that?” I flexed my fingers, forcing blood back into them. Stamped my leaden feet against the car’s flimsy-feeling floorboards, making her point for the moment, at least.

“One. You’ve no idea where you are.” Her hands were busy as she spoke. Tugging, extracting, gathering things from under the seat. From a drop-down compartment in the car’s roof. From the glovebox banging painfully against my knees as it fell open. “Two. The drone from back there?” She jerked her chin in the general direction of the blackness out the back window. “It’s got friends. Lots of heat-seeking, motion-sensing friends—”

“So we’re not going anywhere.”

“—that I know how to avoid.” She went on, fetching, sorting, piling, as thought I hadn’t spoken. “Three. I’ve done my homework.”

She stopped her busy work at last, only to flip open a dark, sleek case. A screen. A state-of-the-art personal screen, as alien to me as the drone. Alien to damned near everyone.

“How—?”

“Pirate,” she said. It sounded almost apologetic, though her hands were busy again. “For the moment, at least, I specialize in knowing.”

Blue light flooded the black between us, endless text, scrolling almost faster than I could read. Almost faster. My Old Name. The one no one was allowed to say anymore. No one had said in a lifetime. My history. Birth to Conflict to now, all there in excruciating detail. Long gone and all there.

"Elohna, comma, Mircea D. Don't know what the D stands for. Information loss, but don't say that where anyone can hear you." She wasn't reading. Wasn't even looking at the screen, and it wasn't like I needed to. "Captain, once upon a time. A big deal for someone so young. A big deal for your kind." She paused like she was waiting for a reaction. Went on when she didn't get one. "You flew for them. Scouted behind enemy lines and always brought your crew back alive. Chest full of medals by the time it was all over, and everything."

"Virtual," I said. Not knowing why. Not knowing what else to say. "Virtual by then."

"Virtual." She laughed in the near dark. "And then there was peace. And then it all went away. They took it away.”  She paused again. Left me an opening, as if I might contradict her. As if I might know something she didn't. "You hung on a while. Longer than most. Trash routes and graveyard shifts. Demotions. To Co-pilot. To Mechanic."

"Maintenance technician," I cut in. "Airline Maintenance Technician, Grade Three."

She swore under her breath, sympathy or empathy, I didn't know. Pity maybe. Pity, quite possibly. She passed a hand over the screen, blanking it out.

“There's nothing for you in Center,” she said quietly.

"Nothing for anyone," I snapped, angry at last. "Unless you're a pirate."

"You'd make a great one." Her reply was mild. Unfazed. "Even tempered. Inquisitive and a quick study. Not exactly a social butterfly. Nondescript."

"For 'my kind'," I couldn't resist the sarcastic quote marks, but she didn't rise to the bait any more than I had.

"For your kind."

Silence fell on that particular truth. I was the first to break it, embarrassed for no reason I could name. "So. This isn't a recruiting mission for you, then."

She didn't laugh. Didn't say anything. She toyed with dark, glossy expanse of the now-dark screen, considering something. Making a decision.

"Not a recruiting mission. A gamble." She nodded sharply to herself. Waved the screen to life again and tapped it once. The space flooded with light. The cavernous space of an ancient airplane hangar. "An investment."

*****************************

"How?" I asked. Eventually asked. "How long?"

"My father," she said. An answer to both. All the answer she seemed to want to give, but she set her teeth and went on. "He fought, too." She held up a hand. Waved off the question of Old Names before I could even ask it. "He saw how it would go long before the end of Conflict. He wanted no part of it, so he made plans. He had an idea . . ."

"Had."

I swore under my breath. Sympathy. Empathy. Pity. All of it together.

We sat in silence a while. The two of us on the hood of the ancient Auto, dwarfed now by half a dozen hulking aircraft.

"We call it Green.”

She slid the screen from its case, almost reluctantly this time. She passed a palm over the black surface, end to end, then drew her fingers up, pulling the hologram with it. She curved an arm protectively around it, as though there was only so much she could stand for me to see.

“Not so accurate at first. Lived off what we could scrounge. Bunkers and houses and stores far enough out.” She flicked at one corner, shifting the field of view, blowing up one corner. “But we’ve earned it now.” Her voice was full of pride. “We grow things."

It was incredible. Impossible, farther even than this from Center, but there it was. Space stretching out. Houses and tilled land. Fences and tiny figures streaming out of a bigger building. There they were. I leaned in, my eyes darting from figure to figure, counting. Losing count.

"How many?" I could hardly find the breath to ask.

"One-seventy-six the last time I left for Center. I spend the most time there. Amassing capital. Making sure we’re stay off the radar. One-seventy-six,” she said again. Her gaze strayed toward one edge. "Two-hundred now, maybe. Children. Other investments. Two-hundred, I hope." She bunched an abrupt fist. The hologram shrank to a single cerulean point of light and winked out. "We've outgrown it. We need to find more land. Another place it's safe to settle. We need"—she blew out a breath—"so much of everything."  

“And you know where to get it.”  

My gaze drifted up. Roamed over the motley assemblage ranging from two-seater crop dusters to something medium sized that must've hauled cargo. Must’ve hauled personnel toward the end of the Conflict.

Personnel like me.

It clicked, then. What she was asking. It only clicked just then. I’d have liked to blame the head injury. The roughing up her goons had given me, but the truth is it was too big. Entirely too big.

I thought about fuel. Parts and the hundred other things. How impossible it all was, when there was nothing at all this far from Center, yet here we were, the two of us on the hood of an ancient Auto.

“You know how to get it there.”

"I specialize in knowing." She nodded without bitterness. With something like hope as her gaze drifted up. “I’m a pirate.”

“But you weren’t always.”

[foxypajamas]

You do not win.

A thought that I have to sometimes remind myself on nights like these. It’s been one of those days… where struggle seeps in without any signs or warning. Unable to control it, flowing through your veins making it almost impossible to breathe. It’s just one of those days.

I can count on my fingers the amount of people who know my story. About the day I lost everything I was. If you have heard about it up to this point then I want you to know that you mean something wondrous to me. Never forget that. I decided after so many years to finally take the time to write about it and tonight is fitting, because I want you all to know that if you have gone through the same thing I have, then you are not alone. My god you’re not alone. If there is one thing I can tell you, it is that it does not matter who you are, how perfect your life is or not, anything can happen to you. Things don’t just happen to bad people. Things happen to good people too.

I’m a Cancer baby so naturally I care about people more than myself the majority of the time. It makes me so happy to not only make others happy, but to see others happy as well. I was the one who was nice to the people who were considered freaks, the people who people stayed away from for no reason at all. Because they were different, but that was probably was because I always considered myself different from the rest too. Fast forward, because if you’re reading this right now you probably want me to cut to the chase and tell you what happened to me. Sorry you can’t google the answer to that question, but brace yourself. What happened to me did not come out until I almost graduated college. Years later. I think I maybe half-assed the story to someone once, but could never fully bring myself to reliving it. First off, if you are ever going through something. NEVER keep it bottled up, especially for years, because eventually it may eat you up. There is always going to be someone there that will listen, and if you are trying to tell someone about what you’re going through and they don’t want to listen. Then screw them, they aren’t worthy of your friendship or time anyways. Seriously, if someone I didn’t know was going through something rough, I would be all ears. Life freaking sucks and just being a decent and caring human being is what is going to bring this world out of the darkness. Now why exactly am I choosing now to write this and actually let people read? Well for one, I have always had this idea in my head that this was something that should be kept a secret. For years I thought that if someone knew this about me then I would automatically be judged, be disliked, or be told “It was your fault” or “You just want pity”. Fuck. That. I’m here to say that that is bullshit. Because I am who I am today because of what happened.

I’m not going to sugar coat this or beat around the bush. I was raped. A word that people throw around like its nothing these days. Someone didn’t grab my ass at the bar and called rape, or talk to me in a certain way that made me uncomfortable and called rape. I was raped. (psa Those other things are absolutely unacceptable too) Not only was I raped, but I was physically assaulted to the point where parts of my body were black and blue. This wasn’t some random person either. It was friends. People that I trusted. People I grew up with. I’m obsessed with this true crime podcast called My favorite murder and when I think back on all of this, it very well could have almost been on an episode of that. I keep using the word story when referring to this, which I don’t fully agree with. This isn’t a story, this isn’t something that I am happy to share, but I feel it is important. I am going to spare the details and just stick to the main points. I don’t want you all to be reading a book. Flash back again. I was never a partier. I was actually a super big homebody and you all already know how big a geek I am. I had decided with my best friend at the time that we were going to go to our first party because we were about to graduate and wanted it to sort of seal the deal. So we go. Its in a pasture/barn and away from civilization. I see a group of people I hung out with and we all hung out, chilled, and did what normal people do at parties. Fast forward a little bit into the night. One of my guy friends asks me to help him get something from his truck. Everyone wasn’t allowed to park near the barn, so it was a little bit of a distance to walk to the lot all the cars were at. We get to his truck and almost immediately I am knocked to the ground by several guys (All whom were my friends). Before I could let out a yell, I am tied up with hay rope and ferociously kicked in the sides. The pain was so excruciating that I could not speak and my mind went into a daze. From there I was literally drug down the dirt road from the rope by one person in the group while still being kicked. Further away was a smaller vehicle, which I was tossed in like garbage and well… you could guess what happened after that. I came to the conclusion in that moment that I wasn’t going to make it out alive and the most morbid part was that I was in so much pain and terror that I didn’t even care. I am honestly surprised I wasn’t tossed into the ditch that night. The last thing I remember about this was my face being cupped and with the most disgusting grin the words “If you tell anyone I will beat your face in with bricks.” Being said. Want to know the cherry on top of all of this too. My best friend who went with me to this party in the first place. Didn’t even look for me. Later I found out she ditched without even trying to find me first. Some friend right?

This is what all happened in a nutshell. I could write out all the details about every little thing that happened that night, but that doesn’t matter. If you are close to me and want to know. I will tell you over a margarita or a beer someday, but for now I will leave you with that. I lost who I was as a person that night. I went from my super peppy extroverted self. To something that just wasn’t me. You’re probably thinking why I didn’t go to the police. Well, there are a lot of underlying issues there that I would tell you if I told you the whole story. The fact of the matter is though. Nobody ever found out and I kept it to myself for years.

You will never understand how the people who went through something like this truly feels, but I completely lost faith in humanity that day. I lost trust in every person I knew, or met. I suffered from depression, anxiety, social anxiety, ptsd, insomnia. I took medication that didn’t work, and really just lost who I was as a person. All of these things I delt with while keeping it a secret from family, I silently struggled, nobody knew what I was dealing with. A couple of times a year this person would pop in just to remind me of how “worthless” I was. No matter how many times I blocked him from every social media I had. I just never really understood why me?

It took me years to cope and just be able to function on a day to day basis. It took me years to stop looking over my shoulder, getting a sinking feeling when someone looks at me, to stop feeling so worthless. It took me years to trust people again and it wasn’t really until I graduated from college when I really started to realize that not everyone is out to get me and that there really are good people out there. Fast forward to 2018. This guy has stopped popping in, has a family and two small children. A very happy family and relationship. There was never justice and this person is living their life to an extent that was partially taken from me. A chunk of my life was taken away because someone decided that they were willing to destroy someone just to get what they wanted in that moment. One night turned into seven years for me and I still struggle some days… like tonight. It never really goes away, but you do learn to deal with it.

You did not win. You never did win.

I can admit. I went through some shit with all of this. The darkest parts of my life were the years I was supposed to be living life to the fullest, but I didn’t. It wasn’t until this New Year that I finally started to see my true self start coming back and the amount of wonderful people I’ve come across this year already is just beyond me. The whole point of this was not to just explain what happened to me, but to say. You’re not alone. Anything that you are going through. There will ALWAYS be someone there to listen. Looking back on all of this, has made me realize that I am who I am now because of what happened. I am more understanding of people. I love to genuinely listen to people about their life, goals, struggles, and actually understand. It’s made me a deeper friend, and it’s made me truly care more about the people in my life. It drove my passion for the arts and fueled my creativity. It made me a workaholic, but it also made me dedicated, driven, and reliable to my jobs. It made me independent. I don’t need anyone in my life who doesn’t need me, and for those who are apart of my life. I will do everything I can to make them happy. The shit you go through in life. It is just a thing. It sucks, it really really sucks. But you know what? Life freaking sucks. What happens to you, does not define who you are as a whole. You are what defines you. What happened to me, morphed me into who I am today, but I see the light in it now. Don’t let anything stop you from being truly happy. In any life situation, you are NOT stuck. You are the only thing standing in the way of who you want to be, and where you want to be. You are the only one in the way of you. Take a chance on people. I have struggled so much with people not taking a chance on me because of the way I am. You don’t really know a person until you take a chance. I am an INFJ. Listen to my life advice and just roll with it. Haha!

I am so damn tired of seeing people getting away with trying to destroy other people’s lives and succeeding. I am tired of there being no justice, and I am tired of seeing people struggle. Just be a good person and treat people well. You never know what the person in front of you is going through. I know I am very good at masking my struggle. Other people are too, so be kind. Bring light into this dark world, lord knows we need it in these times.

That’s about all the writing I have in me tonight.

If you made it to the end. Thank you. I know it was a lot to take in and if you ever need an ear.

I have two.

<3

B