#i still always think i'm lying and just trying to avoid work i guess

[magicisrealandsoismyally]

Okay, thought we were being like, chill, but I guess that's a kindness only afforded to people you consider to be women, so I'm gonna break this down piece by piece here, a lot to address.

"purposely obtuse or intellectually dishonest"

right off the bat the fact I disagree with you means I'm being intentionally wrong and evil. There's no room for me to be misguided, or making mistakes, or being uninformed, I'm either playing stupid or lying. Got it.

I "either hate AFABs, or don't take harm against them seriously". Once again, another false dichotomy. I take harm against women incredibly seriously, I just don't think the biggest threat to women is trans women. I think we have the same enemies, conservative men in power. I said you were fueled by fear because I was trying to be nice. It's not just fear. It's anger. Misdirected anger. You, and many others, have decided the easiest thing to do is hate.

Yeah. It is in fact transphobic to demand sex segregated spaces given that a true biological sex isn't fucking real. That's why it's "Assigned male at birth" or "Assigned female at birth". I've been assigned a lot of things throughout my life. So have you. Are you going to tell me those assignments were always accurate? I mean hell, with the amount of cis people out there, their accuracy rate is definitely above 50%. Still not accurate tho.

Transphobia is both the people trying to murder us, and the people, who don't want us in spaces that are away from the people trying to murder us. You are aware that the same cis men wanna kill us both right? You've arbitrarily drawn a line in the sand because you are grossly misunderstanding how trans people work. The number one piece of advice I see on this site from transfems, is how to avoid being SAed. By cis men, by cis women, by trans men. It's so common, that it makes me question if I even want to be in spaces with y'all. You wanna talk about fear? I'm fucking terrified. All the time. The instant I come out to the world, I get to spend the rest of my life, knowing that at any moment, someone says anything negative about me? and my life is over. Because people like you, will believe them. Because the scary transfem must be the person oppressing you. Because its easy, to villainize the minority. And it's easy to decide he's a monster. And all the while, she loses everything just for being an easy target.

You wanna talk physical safety? 83% of genderqueer victims of fatal violence are trans women. People love to kill us.

AMAB privilege is not real. I was not socialized male. I think you have a perspective on how the patriarchy functions that hasn't seen the other side of the fence, so let me go ahead and elaborate on that. Being a Man, is something you can fail out of in the patriarchy. It's a club that is nigh impossible to enter, but really fucking easy to fail out. Under the patriarchy, I am not a man. I failed out of that shit at the age of 8 when I said I didn't like sports. When I did anything "girlie" at all. When I cried. I was a crybaby (according to my family) and a faggot (according to the other kids at school). And from that moment, I was a target. Always have been. I wasn't socialized male, I was socialized as a failed man. Most trans girls are treated that way from a young age. I did not benefit from the patriarchy I was shoved around. I have gotten into an absurd amount of fights that I never started because some fucking asshole decided to beat the shit out of the fag. I spent like a week on tumblr before hearing other shared experiences about this kinda thing. Literally not hard to talk to trans women about this stuff if you, yk, try.

"We don’t need to check genitals I would have no problem with the manliest most masculine most passing trans man in an afab space because no matter what hormones or surgery are involved they cannot rape and impregnate me with their penis the same way an AMAB person could."

How do you know he's trans. How. Tell me right now how you tell the difference between a cis man and a trans man with bottom surgery. Do that without being transphobic, please. Find a way. I'm looking for something hilarious to read today, it's been a long one. Because if you don't have a way, your entire transmisogynistic utopia falls apart here. You can't tell if someone is trans. It's about identity. You cannot tell if someone has a penis. No matter what you do. You cannot tell someone's assigned gender at birth.

And how wonderful, you mentioned prisons, just read about this one. Did you know when transfems are imprisoned they get placed with the most violent cellmates? It's a tactic to reduce prison violence. Give the most violent people their own live in target. They get called prison wives. It's called V-Coding. So yeah, prisons are messed up. For both of us. If only we could talk about that and unite to fix that oh wait that's literally the whole point of having transfems in feminist spaces, crazy how that works.

"Also trans AMAB people commit sex crimes at an even higher rate than cis AMAB people"

WHERE IS THE FUCKING SOURCE. I am tired of TMEs and their constant stream of libel demonizing trans women. All of your nonsense statistics is so fucking stupid. Where are you getting these numbers? The sex offenders list? The one that as recently in the 80s included anyone who crossdressed or hit on a person of the same gender even if they were reciprocating? I literally have heard cis lesbians complain about that shit on this site, you're not even being a feminist by citing sex crimes, you're being a cop. Fucking being trans counted as being a sex criminal for most of American history. Drag queens, trans women, and crossdressers get accused of sex crimes all the fucking time, you have no critical thinking god fucking damn.

"which again did not START segregated they became that way because AMAB people could t be trusted not to rape/assault AFAB ones"

Yeah no lmao, (this next paragraph is going to be USAmerican centric because yk, that's what I learned about growing up) they kicked literally all queer people out when women got the right to vote, both lesbians and bi-women had to fight their way back into these spaces in the decades prior. I feel like we forgot about the Ellen Show or smth? Like feminists did not fucking go to bat for her after she came out. Groups will turn on their supporters the instant they decide they don't need them. Mainstream Feminism turned on people of color and queer people who put their own movements on hold to support the women's right to vote so fucking fast. It's American history too, all I had to do to learn this was have a pulse in my US history class.

Also “capitalism is real because it impacts me in a negative way but all other forms of oppression where I might be considered the privileged one in the dynamic is just hysterical people distracting from capitalism”

Girl, reading comprehension, try it out for size. I did not say these systems of oppression are not real. I'm saying demonization and fear of minorities (like, yk, trans women) is a tool of the existing power systems to make you hate us and not your actual enemy, the people in power (like, yk, rich people who are usually cis white conservative men). You keep bringing up how awful existing systems like prisons are but you just, do not analyze who fucking set those systems up. Private prisons are owned by the rich, not by the trans woman you're yelling at who is 4 bad days away from giving up and killing herself.

If trans AMAB people don’t want to be housed with cis ones, they can do the legwork and create those spaces for themselves like AFAB people did they do NOT have the right to commandeer our movement and literally erase our rights and protections because not allowing AMAB people into these vulnerable spaces might give them the big sad.

Okay so first you tell me feminist spaces weren't originally segregated by sex, and now you tell me it's an AFAB only movement? Because I know for a fact trans people have always been at bat for feminism. American white women said the same shit to women of color between 1920-1965. Cause the instant we become expendable, y'all throw us aside.

commandeer our movement

Really? Do you genuinely think trans women could ever outnumber cis women? What cartoon candyville are you from where there are more trans women than cis women? How the fuck are we going to commandeer the movement? We're like, 0.3% of the population at most. What are you talking about.

YEAH MY GUY IM FORCED TO LIVE LIKE A FUCKING PREY ANIMAL!!!

Okay so for starters, transwomen are also in constant fear. We have literally been hunted, this is just, like, a historical thing. Second, I'm not a guy. Don't call me that. You cannot honestly tell me you're not transphobic and then proceed to use exclusively masc terms to refer to me. That's just wild. Playing along with the tranny does not make you not a trans ally. You're still a transphobe just cause you're fine with trans men.

Some fear is completely rational

Yeah. We're both completely justified in our fear. I do not build my politics off my fear. You do. That's the difference. No matter how terrified I am of TMEs, I still fight for y'all. Always have, always will.

Gender is literally fake and varies from culture to culture. Sex based oppression is real and fucks over the lives of AFAB people worldwide.

Ohh, damn, so close, you'll get it next time I'm sure. See the trick is BOTH OF SEX AND GENDER ARE FAKE. Genderqueer people just admit that it's about self expression. You literally just described how fallible sex assignment is by talking about intersex people, it's like, hella cultural. Sex based oppression is real. So is Gender based oppression. Because people are shitty about fake shit, all the time, we're on tumblr, the "death threats over shipping" website.

You cannot tell me you think you're not transphobic and then claim gender oppression isn't real. I feel bad for any trans people who have the misfortune to interact with you. I hope one day you realize you fought on the wrong side of history. And if not? I hope they speak of you in the same breath as the grown adults trying to stop Ruby Bridges from attending school, in the same breath as the cops at Stonewall. You have an excellent day. I probably won't, but what's new. I'm sorry you're so afraid. I'm sorry you fell for it when they told you who to be afraid of. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. If anyone wants sources on this stuff, i'll add links to posts getting into it, a lot of it's screenshots and i'm not about to make this any longer than it is. There's more ofc, but I can only cite what links I have on hand, y'all can do your own research, read like, any transfem blog while they still exist. https://www.tumblr.com/honeylemony/767694258735136768?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/marxism-transgenderism/767536279224270848/okay-ive-said-before-that-part-of-why https://www.tumblr.com/girldogmystic/766813723287502848/i-wanna-get-more-specific-with-this-according-to

"OP is a terf" is a thought-terminating cliche meant to keep you from questioning the status quo and keep you afraid of being labeled a heretic should you come to your own conclusions about anything.

[lovesodeepandwideandwell]

I feel GOOD in my BODY guys this is astounding

[unemployedhockeyfan]

Not All Breakups Are Equal Pt. 2

Summary: Lando and Eloise deal with the fallout of their friendship after Eloise left Lando standing in his Monaco apartment.

Warnings: angst I guess and I'm pretty sure just one swear word

Notes: Hi! Thanks for the support on part one!! Sorry it took a few days for this part. I write for my adult job, too, so sometimes I'm just a little too worn out to write after work.

[2.33k]

Part 1

The days in New York are easy. Daily life is just fast enough that I don’t even have the opportunity to think of the friendship breakup that’s constantly trying to pull at my heart. 

Days are nothing compared to nights. 

New York has seemingly earned its title of “The City That Never Sleeps.” I wish I could say it’s because I make my nights as fast paced as my days, but that would be one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told — second only to all the years I told myself I didn’t love Lando… At least not that way. 

My nights are filled with little to no sleep as I toss and turn in the bed squished into the tiny hotel room. All that fills my brain is his smile, his laugh and the look on his face as I walked out the door of his apartment. 

I never want to forget the smile or the laugh, but that last look is one I wish wasn’t burned into my brain. 

It’s been three weeks since I last saw or talked to Lando. He’s since won his first race in Formula 1. 

A race I wasn’t there for. 

I was supposed to be. I had a pass and in all honesty, I could’ve still shown up. If I did, though, I would’ve fallen back into the same pattern as before. The people-pleasing nature of my personality would’ve come out and I would’ve continued to let Lando’s new girlfriend talk ill about me. 

My mind was overflowing with the memories I had of watching Lando celebrate in Miami while I sat 1,200 miles north. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep tonight. At least not anymore than the three hours I had already barely managed. 

As I rolled over to grab my phone off the nightstand, the cheap digital clock was shining 3:30 a.m. 

“Hm, Max is probably up by now. I can call him,” was the initial thought that crossed my mind. 

Max wasn’t necessarily thrilled when he found out that my plane ticket landed me across the Atlantic Ocean, but he got over it relatively quickly when he found out I had friends from university in the area. 

It took a while, but the line finally connected, welcoming me to one of the most comforting voices in my life. 

“Eloise, long time no hear.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I’ve been busy.”

“Really? Or are you just lying to me?” Max always seemed to be able to read my mind, no matter how much I wished he couldn’t.

“It’s a half lie. The days have been busy, the nights are just restless.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

The silence lasted for a few moments too long. It allowed Max just enough time to steer the conversation in a direction I was trying to avoid. 

“He misses you, Elle.”

“I saw his win in Miami. He looked happy. I couldn’t help but watch.”

“He wanted you there.”

I know Max is telling the truth. He has no reason to lie, and I know that truthfully Lando didn’t want me to leave his apartment just over a month ago, but I did. 

“You should call him, not me.”

“It depends, Max” 

“On what? Whether or not he’s broken up with his girlfriend?”

“Actually, exactly that.”

“I thought you told him you were OK if they were dating as long as she was nicer to you,” Max pushed back. 

“I am, I just don’t think she’s capable of changing in just a few weeks.” 

My voice was getting louder and I didn’t really want to take my anger out on Max. He hadn’t done anything wrong — maybe just pushed the wrong button or two. 

We sat in silence, the only noise being our breathing on either end of the line. It lasted well over a minute before I let out an exaggerated sigh. I was not only going to come clean to Max, but to myself as well. 

“Max, it's just… It’s hard and it hurts,” I said as my eyes slowly started to leak fresh tears. 

“I know, Eloise, I know. I don’t think anyone is expecting it to be easy for you or for him.”

“No, Max, I don’t just mean distancing myself from him. It’s hard to even be around him nowadays when I see how he treats other girls when all I want is for him to treat me that way.”

The pause in the conversation was deafening. With the phone pressed to my ear, I waited for Max to say something, to say anything. 

“Max?”

“Well, it’s about time you admitted it to yourself,” he said with a rather large chuckle.

“Stop, this isn’t funny.”

I was laughing too, though. I couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that for the first time in a month I felt comfortable in my surroundings, but I laughed for a good three minutes before Max’s voice finally came through again. 

“You sure do laugh a lot for someone who thinks this isn’t funny!”

“Can’t help it right now.”

“I mean, I am pretty funny,” Max said with an audible smug look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, well, looks aren’t everything.”

“Good one, Elle. I’m going to hang up on you so you have to call him.”

“I’m not going to, I need more time. Plus, he’s in Montreal right now, it’s 3:30 for him, too, and I’d imagine he’s asleep.”

“You’re stubborn, you know that, right?”

“Hm, I learned it from you.”

“Get some sleep, Eloise. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Maxy. And, I promise, I’ll call him eventually.”

It was nearly two months later before I decided it was finally time to talk to Lando again. Of course, by that point, I was well past sleep deprived between restless nights in New York and changing time zones as I returned home to the United Kingdom. 

With my brain barely functioning, I decided the best bet would be to not call Lando, but show up in Austria at his next race. I had all the passes I needed to show up thanks to both myself and Lando thinking this falling out was never going to happen. 

I managed to avoid all the areas I knew Lando would be during the days leading up to Sunday. I saw and anxiously watched as Lando raced Max for the lead. I sat and nearly cried as I watched Lando’s race come to an end just laps shy of yet another podium. 

Lando is hard on himself. He holds himself to a level that’s nearly impossible to reach, and I know his mood after this race will be anything but stellar. He’s bound to be angry, and I start to fear what his reaction will be if he sees me. 

As I stand lost and confused in the paddock, I hear my name being called by maybe one of the few people who could make me smile at this moment. 

“Eloise! Elle, is that you?”

I whip my head around to see a smiling Daniel Ricciardo jogging my way. Before I could even respond, I’m wrapped in the embrace of one of my favorite members of the F1 world. 

“What are you doing here? Does Lando know?”

“I’m assuming he’s clued you in on what’s happened?”

“Just a little, don’t know all the details.” 

“Um, yeah, well he doesn’t know I’m here. Really, I don’t even know why I’m here. I should probably leave. There was part of me that wanted to talk to him, but after everything that’s gone on just today, it’s probably best I make myself just disappear. I don’t want to make this any worse than it probably already is for him.”

“Eloise, you’re rambling.”

I couldn’t help it, I was nervous. I was standing in front of one of Lando’s former teammates and just steps away from the McLaren garage. 

“Do you want me to call him and get him down here? I really don’t think you off all people could make this moment worse for him”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Call him.”

Lando must’ve answered quickly, but it seemed to take some convincing from the Aussie to lure Lando out of his driver’s room. Eventually the word was that he was on his way down. 

I wouldn’t let Daniel leave. I couldn’t let Daniel leave. Just over a minute after Daniel had hung up the phone, I heard a voice that I’d been missing for months. 

The voice was so calming on the ears that I had a physical reaction to it. Everything seemed to calm down around me the second the first word came stumbling from Lando’s mouth. 

“What’s up, Daniel? Really just not in the mood right now.”

He didn’t respond. Daniel just stepped out of the way, revealing me to the man who still held so much of my soul. 

“Hey, Lan.” 

The tension was palpable. Lando and I stood there staring at one another as Daniel slowly disappeared to likely return to his own driver’s room. I didn’t want to say anything until he responded, but I was scared that if I waited for him, it would be silent for hours. 

“Sorry for just showing up and not calling. For some reason it seemed easier to jump on a plane than it did to pick up the phone.” 

“You’re here? In Austria? You’re here, really here? I went back home, I called and nothing. Now, you’re just here?”

“Lan, I’m sorry. I needed space. I just didn’t know the best way to come back.”

I could tell Lando was trying to not get angry. His body language becomes so easy to read after knowing him for years.

His hand ran through the curls on his head after rubbing his face almost too hard. 

“Um, let’s just go to my driver’s room. We probably shouldn’t have this conversation in public.” 

The walk to his room was awkward. There were eyes glancing at us and some whispers, too. I knew it had been awhile since I had been at one of these, but this surely wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. 

“Listen, Eloise, I’m not mad. I’m just confused. You left me in my apartment and then disappeared for months with nothing from you. I had to rely on Max to at least know you were alive.”

Lando took a seat on his makeshift bed after making room next to him for me to sit. 

“I know, Lando. I can only imagine how much it hurt you for me to leave, but I had to protect myself. I was hurting so much.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Lando was crying. With the events that had already unfolded today, this really wasn’t the best time for this conversation, but it didn’t look like I could avoid it any longer. 

“Lan, I know you didn’t want to hurt me.” 

Before I could stop myself, I was wiping the tears that were starting to spill from his eyes. He looked so vulnerable at this moment. 

“And, really, Lando, I don’t think I ever really felt hurt by you. I just wanted you to hear me and it felt like you were blinded by some love.” 

“It wasn’t love. It was lust or some shit like that. It just definitely wasn’t love.”

I’m not sure how I was really supposed to take that revelation. Was he still seeing her? Was it still too new that he was just describing it as lust?

My confusion must’ve been evident on my face because before I could utter a response, Lando was talking again. He was talking to me as he slowly grabbed both of my hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them. 

“She’s gone. She’s not in the picture anymore. The day after you left, Max and I had a heart-to-heart. Really, he kind of laid into me and wouldn’t stop. He kept saying that some fling was never going to be worth what you meant to me — what you mean to me.”

It was my turn to start crying. The tears didn’t flow as fast as they did the night I walked out of his apartment, but they were there. Lando quickly pulled me into his chest, placing a needed kiss on my temple. 

“Eloise, I will spend every day for the rest of my life apologizing for allowing her to say those things about you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” my voice slightly muffled but my head in his chest. 

As I leaned back, I grabbed his hands once again and looked him in the eyes — those eyes that have held me captive since I was 13. 

“Why didn’t you come find me after you broke it off with her? Max isn’t that strong, he would’ve told you where I was in a heartbeat if he knew it was over.”

“I knew where you were. I knew you were tucked away in a crummy New York hotel room. I just wanted to give you space. Telling you she was gone would’ve just rushed you, and I didn’t want to do that.”

“You really do surprise me sometimes, Lando Norris. Can we go back to being friends again? I can’t do life without you in it.”

“About that…”

About what? What could Lando possibly want to say to me? I thought this conversation was going well, I thought it was oddly healing in a way. Was he about to push me out the door this time? 

“I don’t know if we can be friends again, Eloise.”

Oh my god this really is it. Our friendship is ending. After months of me not letting it die in my brain as I took my own space, Lando Norris was about to shatter my heart into a million unrecoverable pieces. 

“We can’t be friends because it’s not OK for friends to love one another the way I love you.”

“Wait, what?”

[psychovigilantewrites]

Sunshine's Shadow

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader, Dick Grayson/Reader Genre: Slow burn smut? Porn with plot? Like eventually??? Word Count: 7,600 Read on Ao3 Part 1 of 2. Summary: You had powers of darkness that made you feel unwanted your whole life. Jason Todd was the first person to convince you that your darkness was sunshine. After his death, you went to Dick for comfort and started a relationship with him. And then, Jason came back. A/N:

I'm practicing writing again to prepare myself for the last chapter of Red Who? I'm not too happy with how I wrote this, but I'm hoping to start improving again along the way as I write and learn all over again. Also, I am not familiar with Titans! I know Jason never really joined? I just winged it I'm so sorry. I also aged up Jason's death here. I think the timeline is a bit messy pls forgive me.

Jason knocked on your door.

“Come in,” he heard your soft, muffled voice.

You were sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. You had soft instrumental music playing in your room. The table lamp was switched on on your bedside table, but the room was still dark.

“We’re getting ready for a spooky movie tonight,” Jason said, closing the door behind him and approaching you. “Care to join us this time?”

Your eyes darted from your phone to his, and you pursed your lips in hesitation.

“No thank you, I’m fine here,” you said and brought your attention back to your phone.

Jason sighed loudly and sat on the edge of your bed.

“Why don’t you ever join us?” he asked, “We’re the Teen Titans. We’re a team. You should join us for more team stuff besides official missions.”

You simply stared at Jason. He sensed that you had more to say but was hesitating opening up. So he got up and sat next to you. “You can tell me.”

“The room is dark, isn’t it?” you asked.

The question surprised Jason. “I mean, I guess? So what?”

“That’s me, Jason. You know how my powers work. This- this curse. The shadow I emit makes everything dark and gloomy, even if it’s a sunny day outside. And no one likes someone who brings darkness in a room,” you avoided his eyes and started picking at a hangnail on your finger.

“That’s why you won’t hang out with us?” he couldn’t help but laugh. “I thought you hated us or something.”

“What?” you looked at him incredulously, “How could I? I was afraid that you all hate me for being so depressing.”

“Has anyone told you that before?” Jason asked. He didn’t know much about where you came from, but he knew that you went to a lot of different schools and orphanages. An outsider, not unlike himself.

“The kids were always scared of me,” you confessed quietly, “They refused to play with me. That was fine, but then soon after they would bully me. Make fun of me, push me down, kick me. Reminded me again and again that I was a freak.”

For some reason, Jason always had the urge to protect you, even though you were slightly older than he was. Now that urge was stronger and he wanted to hurt anyone who hurt you, to shield you from all that negativity.

“Well,” he began, “I don’t know about those assholes, but whenever I see you, I never saw darkness.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Really!” he insisted, “I see a girl who likes to read, and who likes music. I see you smile whenever Roy and Jackson bicker. And when Wally does that thing where he starts vibrating when he eats? And on the field? The way you protect everyone, the way we can all trust that you have our backs.”

Jason held your eyes. “I don’t see any darkness. In fact, I see sunshine! Because whenever you’re around, it makes us all feel warm and safe.”

He saw the way you were trying hard to not let the tears brimming your eyes fall. “You’re not lying.”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement.

��Of course I’m not,” he confirmed. “Have I ever lied to you?”

“I guess not,” you sniffled, “I can tell when people lie. And you have never lied to me.”

“What do you mean you can tell when people lie?”

“I don’t know. It’s sort of always been a thing I could do,” you shrugged, “I don’t join in conversations, so I just observe people, and I can sort of tell what they’re thinking or when they’re lying.”

“Ah, I think I know a thing or two about that,” Jason smiled fondly.

“Thank you, Jason,” you expressed.

“No problem, Sunny,” he grinned, “I’ll call you that from now on. To remind you.”

Jason thought that he saw you blush in the dim light. “So what do you think? Wanna join us for spooky night? I mean, your shadow would even be helpful. It’ll create the spooky ambience we’re all looking for.”

“Is there popcorn?” you grinned.

***

You dumbass, you thought.

The rain had you soaked and shivering.

Jason Todd, you absolute asshole.

The smell of wet dirt was overpowering. Your team stood with you despite your shadow engulfing them in darkness. Roy had his hand on your shoulder.

The white petals stuck to the polished wooden casket as it was lowered into the ground. Your heart had already broke, and you had gone through the stages of breaking down, sobbing uncontrollably, not being able to sleep for a week after they told you the news. Right now, you felt nothing but emptiness.

The casket hit the ground with a dull thud, and you heard the wet footsteps of others leaving the grave. You looked up at the crowd. Dressed in black, you saw some familiar faces. Clark Kent and Diana Prince were with Bruce Wayne, standing in solidarity. A fiery red color caught your eyes, and you saw whom you knew as Starfire. Tall, confident, and radiating with a soft warm glow- everything that you wished you were. She was next to Dick Grayson, and your eyes made contact with blue ones, ones that reminded you of Jason.

Dick gave you a sad smile.

“I heard you’re not going to continue with the Titans anymore,” Dick broke the silence. The rain was still pouring, pounding on the glass window of the car. “Where do I drop you off?”

“East End, along Murphy Avenue,” you replied. You watched two droplets on the window fall down, racing against each other. “I have some boxes left in the Tower, but I don’t feel like seeing them today.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own? You’re not even 18 yet.”

“I’m turning 18 in three months,” you rolled your eyes. “And I already got a job.”

“Oh? That was quick. What job?”

“Private investigator,” you responded, “Lot’s of scandals in Gotham. It’s quite easy to get a job if you’re half decent.”

“Pay well?”

“Well enough.”

Silence again. Dick made a turn.

No word was said until he stopped in front of the apartment complex. Unknown to you, Dick made a mental note to check the apartment out.

“Thanks, Dick.” Something stopped you from leaving the car. Something warm. Ah, it was Dick’s hand on yours.

You looked over and stared into his bright blue eyes. “I’m here for you. Anytime of the day or night. Text me, call me, whatever. You’re not alone.”

It was his expression. The pain and grief and sincerity in his eyes. A hint of desperation, even. By now, your talent for reading people had developed, and you could tell more than just basic emotions. Dick didn’t want you to leave him alone.

Your pulse quickened.

“Would you… Like to come in?” you asked.

Dick was surprised. His eyes darted downwards in a look of… guilt? And then- “No, it’s alright. You said you wanted some alone time. Go settle down first, then maybe you can give me a house tour sometime.”

Then he gave you the grin. Dick Grayson’s charming, heart-stopping grin.

You left the car.

THREE MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

You spent your birthday alone, ignoring the invitations from your ex team members. They all wished you happy birthday, and sent you voice notes of them singing. They said they wished you were there with them, and that they hoped you were well. You replied with a simple thank you.

The apartment you made yours was bare. The walls had no art, and the TV was unplugged. What was the point? Your darkness would have made the art on the walls difficult to see and it was not like you were planning to invite anyone over.

A couple of case files sat neatly on the dining room table, where you did your work. Your name had spread by word of mouth after your first client three months ago, and now you occasionally received texts from unknown numbers, asking for discretion and offering a few hundred dollars a day for a week of work.

Your phone buzzed. It wasn’t an unknown number this time.

Dick had sent you a text. Happy Birthday! Still waiting for that house tour.

You sent a quick thank you and ignored the rest of the message.

SIX MONTHS after the death of Jason Todd

You arrived late on purpose. “Sorry I’m late.”

You sat down in the booth seat opposite Dick and saw the way his eyes lit up when you announced your arrival.

“No worries,” he brushed it off. “Thanks for coming.”

“Yeah,” you grabbed the dirty menu from the table. Anything to fill up the awkwardness you were expecting. “What do you usually have here?”

“Waffles with ice cream.”

“For dinner?”

“Why not?”

Dick Grayson gave you his Dick Grayson Grin.

You told the aging waitress your order- “I’ll have what he’s having.”

“So how have you been doing? You seem quite busy now, since this dinner was postponed to two months later,” he teased.

“My work isn’t exactly nine to five, five days a week,” you replied curtly. You had avoided this dinner on purpose.

“No, no, I get it. Mine is the same,” he said. “It’s good that you have been getting lots of clients lately. You seem to be high in demand now.”

“Yeah, I am, actually,” you smiled softly to yourself, “I didn’t expect for business to move this fast. I’m mostly investigating cheating spouses and party daughters now, though. Hoping to move on to the more serious stuff.”

“Careful,” Dick warned you, frowning slightly, “Try not to get involved with the politics here. It’s messy, and dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself, Dick,” you assured him.

He paused. “Yeah, I noticed,” his expression quickly changed, “You’ve been controlling your shadow.”

Indeed, you have been working on pulling in your shadow while you were out in public, making it seem as normal as possible so you don’t engulf rooms with darkness, especially with your current state of mind.

Soon after Jason died, you found out that your shadow had grown larger and larger, directly linked to your moods. Then you noticed that it shrank when you were concentrating on your cases, leaving the room bright. So you meditated and practiced, day and night, to keep your shadow and your emotions in check. However, it was tiring to constantly shrink it for long periods of time.

“Practice makes perfect,” you replied bitterly.

“Jason used to talk about you all the time, you know?” he suddenly brought up.

This came as a surprise for you.

“Really?” you cocked your head to the side, “What about?”

“Lots of stuff,” Dick elaborated, “But mainly about how to make you feel more welcomed. How to get you to open up. What stuff to talk to you about. He considered you his best-friend.”

You had considered Jason the same. He was the first person you had truly bonded with, but you never knew that Jason had communicated with Dick about you. True enough, he always tried his best to make sure you never felt left out. You felt your throat tightened and gulped.

Your waffles arrived, and Dick immediately dug in.

“He said that he called you something,” he continued in between bites, “Sunny, right? Said it was short for Sunshine.”

You hadn’t heard that in six months.

Dick looked up at you and panic took over his face. “Shit- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling down your eyes this time. You quickly wiped them away and stabbed the waffle with your fork.

“No- no, it’s fine,” you insisted, “I just hadn’t heard that name in a while. And I didn’t know he talked to you about me.”

Dick looked at you with concern. “Pretty sure he had a crush on you, with the way he was always talking about you.”

You were pretty sure, too. You could read people well after all.

“What made you choose this diner?” you asked, changing the subject. “We used to come here all the time.”

“Yeah, I haven’t stepped in here since that day,” he avoided saying Jason’s name now.

For the first time since you sat down, you actually studied him, beyond the basic emotions that you instinctively saw in everyone. The slight frown, the dark circles under his eyes, the short chewed up nails, the five o’ clock shadow that was rare for Dick Grayson.

He was grieving alone.

“Whenever Jason faced a problem when he was with us, out in the field, or anything, he would always ask himself- ‘What would Dick Grayson do?’” you told him.

His eyes softened, and you could see tears start to well up too.

“He really looked up to you,” you went on, wanting to give Dick the same comfort he gave you. “His older brother. Though, he kept it quiet. He didn’t want people to notice how much he cared. You know, the whole tough guy act.”

Dick chuckled at that. “But you noticed, of course.”

“Of course,” you smiled fondly at the memory. When asked if his injuries hurt, Jason would always reply with Only when I laugh.

But he accepted the cold compresses and paracetamol you gave him.

12 MONTHS AFTER THE DEATH OF JASON TODD

The camera shutter clicked. You checked the quality of the photo on your digital SLR. Even from across the street and in the darkness of the night, your camera caught the couple entering the motel, hand-in-hand, perfectly. This would be sufficient evidence for your client. The classic case of Cheating Spouse was going to earn you a couple thousand dollars. Frankly, you had considered rejecting the case. You only went for high-profile scandals now. But the client was desperate, and offered a large sum of money for something so easy and simple. It was difficult to refuse.

You contemplated on whether you should go the extra mile to catch them in the act. Or maybe you should just stake out in your car and catch them coming out of the motel. You took pride in how detailed your reports always were, and that was how you managed to build your clientele.

You took a sip of the bad, black coffee, already gone cold.

Peering through the zoom lens, you angled the camera up to the rooms facing the street. The movement you caught, however, was not the lights of a room switching on. Instead, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a shadow hanging about the fire-escape in the narrow alley next to the building. You zoomed in more, and saw a familiar blue and black spandex, white eyes, and a familiar grin.

“Fuck,” you swore to yourself. Of all the places to bump into him.

You had gotten close to him since that dinner. The both of you had been texting regularly, getting to know each other and sharing stories about Jason. It helped you with your grief, and you knew it helped him too. You found out that Dick Grayson was voluntarily very expressive with his emotions, unlike his late younger brother who always needed an extra nudge.

Despite all that, you had been trying your best to avoid Dick for the past few weeks and had been giving him the excuse that you were busy. The truth was, you were scared. You knew how close you were getting to him, and right now you were lonely. So lonely that you were afraid of doing something you would both regret.

Knock, knock, knock. The glass rapped three times.

You looked over at the passenger side and saw that grin. Sighing, you unlocked the door.

“What a nice surprise,” Dick greeted you as he shut the door. “Didn’t think I would see a beautiful lady when I left home tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at his usual flirting. “I’m on a job, Dick.”

“I can see that,” he shamelessly went through your case file that was sitting on the passenger seat before he entered. “I thought you don’t take these cases anymore?”

“The poor guy was desperate, and he offered a lot of money for a simple, menial task,” you explained. “I don’t get why he doesn’t ask someone cheaper. Literally anyone could do this.”

“But they can’t do it as well as you do,” Dick booped your nose with his gloved finger.

“What about you? What brings you to this side of town?”

“Tim needed help with some training. And patrol brings me everywhere, sweetheart,” he smirked.

You noticed that your body had subconsciously turned towards him. His eyes were not visible then, covered by the whites of his mask. He was slightly damp due to the drizzle outside.

You cleared your throat. “I’m going to stake out here until they come out. Note how long they were together.”

“That could be until the sun rises.”

“Yep.”

“Need company?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I thought you needed to patrol, and help Tim.”

“Ah, you’re right,” he sighed dramatically, “I’d much rather be in this steamy car with you, though.”

“Go and help your Robin, Dick,” you chuckled, unable to resist him. “Your mentee needs his mentor, Gotham needs its hero and you’re here cozying up with a PI.”

“How irresponsible of me,” he muttered. You hadn’t realized that both of you had moved closer.

You risked a quick glance to his slightly parted lips before tearing your eyes away. He was right, it had suddenly got steamy in the car.

“Text me when you’re back? It’s dangerous to be alone at this hour,” he said before stepping out and flying off in the most flamboyant, Dick Grayson way.

I can take care of myself.

You took deep breaths to calm down and slow your heartbeat.

Maybe you were scared that you were so lonely. But a part of you knew that starting something with Dick wouldn’t be too bad.

You were just scared of being judged by Dick’s dead, younger brother.

The next weekend, you found yourself on your balcony. It was 3 AM, and you were slightly tipsy from the cocktail you made yourself. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of the wind, the cars, the occasional police siren. You made your decision.

Need you. you texted Dick, knowing he was out on patrol.

15 minutes. he replied.

Jason was dead. There was no one else who understood and accepted you almost as well as Dick did.

You waited out there in the cold for his arrival. When he did land straight on your balcony, his hair was a mess and he was panting slightly. You grabbed his face and kissed him roughly.

It didn’t matter anymore because Jason was dead.

SIX MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD.

It was more difficult to control your shadow, but you tried your best. Moving in with Dick helped a bit more as compared to when you were alone, but you were constantly on edge.

He was alive, and what would he think of this? You and Dick? Would he see it as a betrayal?

Dick was having sleepless nights and was gone most of the time to help Bruce with Jason’s tantrum. Six months since Jason had appeared alive, and God knows how long before he crawled out of his grave, but he had not contacted you even once.

And you knew, you knew he was angry at you. That this whole villain arc had at least something to do with you. Even though it didn’t make sense, that you were never together, that you were nothing more than just best friends.

Somehow you felt that the rage and destruction was directed towards you.

For as long as you got together with Dick two years ago, and a whole year of playing cat and mouse with him ever since that kiss, you never had radio silence from him for this long. Two or three days was the maximum, and he would reassure you that everything was fine while you continued on with your PI business. A week long was unheard of.

Then, your phone buzzed.

I’m fine. He’s fine. Everyone’s fine.

You let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Is he back? you asked.

He’s gonna take some time off. Need to go. See you soon.

And so you didn’t sleep until Dick came back home the next morning.

“He’s so… broken,” Dick whispered above your head as he hugged you tightly.

You frowned. You didn’t like that word used to describe Jason. A person couldn’t be broken. People weren’t objects. You knew what Dick meant, that Jason was traumatized- but it didn’t mean that he was broken. Broken meant that you needed to be fixed before someone accepted you, that you needed to be functional or useful.

Broken meant that there was a state where people were whole, and you knew too well that there’s no such thing as a whole person. People just existed in different states, and each state was just as important as the other.

Jason told you all of that when you opened up to him about your past. One day many years ago, you fucked up during a mission. Your shadow had hurt someone a little too badly.

“I don’t even know how it works, Jay,” you had cried, “Sometimes it has a mind of its own and it just reacts outside of my control.”

“You saved me in the end,” Jason tried comforting you, putting his arm around your shoulder as you sat on the carpet of the empty living room.

“But I could have hurt you too,” you argued, “It could have attacked your shadow and killed you, the same way I killed my parents.”

You hadn’t told anyone about that. Only the Justice League knew.

“It was an accident,” Jason insisted.

“I’m just a broken person,” you choked. “No one should be near me.”

That was when he took his arm away and held your shoulders in both his hands, forcing you to face him, to stare into his piercing, fierce gaze.

“Don’t ever let me hear you say that about yourself ever again, got it?” he scolded you, “You are not broken. You’re like- like water. Or air. You exist in different states of matter, and each state you’re in is no less broken than the rest. You’re not broken, okay? You’re Sunny, you’re sunshine. You’re just sunshine…”

NINE MONTHS AFTER THE ARRIVAL OF RED HOOD

“Cheating spouse, undercover at Harvard, cheating spouse again…” you muttered to yourself as you browsed your cases in the living room, illuminated by a single warm light above your head. Dick would complain about the mess in the morning when he eats his cereal.

If he even comes back by tomorrow. you finished your own thought.

The blackmail material requests sounded interesting, but you always hesitated to accept the morally gray ones. You usually would go for missing or runaway children, the evidence of corruption, and the occasional journalist request for an inside scoop.

In fact, your eyes caught one such request. An anonymous journalist from the Gotham Gazelle. You received a text from a disposable two days ago, detailing a locker combination and an address. The contents of the locker were documents within a crisp and new light brown folder- a typical case file, along with a thousand dollars in cash and a promise of another two thousand after completion.

Journalists were not usually this cautious, but if they were investigating someone high profile, it was better to remain anonymous. Especially in Gotham.

You took a sip of your dark roast Arabica coffee, engrossed by what your anonymous client wanted you to get. It was already 11 PM.

Then, you heard the bell ring.

You frowned. Dick wouldn’t ring the bell to his own apartment.

Concentrating on pulling your shadow back, you walked barefoot to the door and looked through the peephole.

Your heartbeat quickened at who you saw standing on the other side of the door.

Calm down, calm down, calm down. Deep breaths.

The door clicked when you unlocked it, and creaked when you pulled it open.

You couldn’t remember when you had stopped counting the amount of days since you saw those piercing blue eyes that were so similar, yet so different from Dicks’. Now they were even more different from what you remembered. They were like battleworn armor standing in an enclosed case.

“There’s my sunshine,” Jason smiled weakly at you.

There was no chance of stopping your tears from falling down your face, so you didn’t even try. You let them flow freely as you speechlessly embraced him and felt his warm arms snake around you. The warmth of an embrace you thought you were never going to feel ever again.

He grew much taller than you. He was 16 when he died, and you were just turning 18. You had stopped growing a year or two before that, but boys kept on growing, didn’t they? He was the same height as you were the last time you saw him, but now he was at least a couple of feet taller. Did that mean he was back long before he started going as Red Hood? What did he do for two and a half years? Who-

“Don’t mean to be rude, but can I come in? I’m freezing my tits off out here,” he said. Even his voice was much, much deeper.

You chuckled and nodded, taking a step away to let him in.

You closed the door behind Jason and watched as he walked in slowly, looking around at Dick’s apartment. You noticed he paused at the dining table where you were working, and then strided to the sofa in the living room before taking a seat. You followed suit and sat next to him, not yet trusting your voice to make a sound.

“So,” he began, “You and Grayson, huh?”

Looking so intently, taking him all in, you almost missed the question.

“You’re bigger than him,” you blurted, before widening your eyes in horror at what you were implying.

Jason raised a scarred eyebrow.

“I mean- you- your build,” you quickly explained, “Your frame. Shoulders. Length. Big.”

“Length?” he smirked.

“Height!” you almost yelled.

Jason leaned closer to you and frowned. “Am I making you nervous?”

You couldn’t bear his piercing eyes, so you looked down at your hands.

“I thought maybe you never wanted to see me again,” you confessed, “I thought maybe you were angry at me, and hated me.”

“I was,” he simply stated.

You looked at him in question.

“Angry at you. For a bit,” he sighed and leaned back against the couch, “But I was angry at everyone. You were no exception. I was just mad everyone had forgotten me. Especially those I cared about.”

“I never forgot you, Jason,” you vowed, “How could I ever?”

“Then why did you-” he cut himself off, “Nevermind. I just wanted to say that I’m not mad anymore. I get it. I was dead, and everyone moved on.”

He crossed his arms and again, you noticed how large his arms were. His face was more mature, jawline more defined and square, eyes now more deep set with extra dark circles underneath them. As if your body had a mind of its own, you reached out to his face and caressed the scar across his cheek.

Jason jumped slightly in surprise at the sudden contact, but then closed his eyes and leaned into your touch.

“You have more scars now,” you pointed out, “What happened?”

You felt his breath down your wrist.

“Another story for another day,” he smiled and opened his eyes. You took your hand away, blushing at how intimate that must have seemed to an onlooker. “Where’s Boy Wonder?”

“No idea,” you shrugged. “You want something to drink? Tea? Coffee?”

“Aw, come on, Sunny!” he got up and walked to the kitchen, “It’s a Welcome Back, Jason party. Where are the fun drinks?”

He started opening your cabinets.

“Wow, make yourself at home, why don’t you?” you shook your head and went to join him.

“Mi casa es su casa,” he sang, “At least, that’s what Grayson told me when he gave me the address. Aha!”

He found the cabinet of liquors. “Wow, I’m quite impressed by his collection.”

“That’s my collection,” you corrected him, “Dick couldn’t tell the difference between tequila and rum even if his life depended on it. I have a variety. What do you feel like?”

“You’re the bartender,” he teased, “Surprise me.”

You nodded and proceeded to make him a drink. Jason sat down at the dining table and nosily looked through your files. That was one thing he and Dick had in common, at least.

You set down a whisky sour for him and yourself before clearing your paperwork to the side, giving him the side eye as you snatched a folder from his hands.

Taking a seat across from him, the both of you dinked glasses together and took a sip.

“Strong,” he commented, “That’s good.”

You accepted the compliment silently.

“So, you don’t know where Grayson’s at?” he inquired.

“Nope,” you replied, “I know he has missions sometimes. Helps out here and there. He’s gone for two or three days before he comes back home with a new bruise or cut. I don’t ask for details unless he starts to tell me about it.”

Your chest made an involuntary squeeze that you tried to hide. There were times when you had asked Dick, and he lied to you. You had arguments over where he was, and who he was with before.

Jason studied your poker face intently, and for a second, you felt as though he was interrogating you.

He took another sip.

“How’s business going?” he changed the subject, “I heard you never went back to the team.”

“I couldn’t,” you answered simply.

“Why not?”

“Everything reminded me of you. It hurt too much.”

A deafening silence. A look of guilt. A looming darkness that grew.

“Business is great, actually,” you went on. “And I enjoy the slower-paced nature of the work.”

“Ugh, even stake outs?” he made a face, not commenting on how your shadow became slightly bigger.

“Stake outs can be nice sometimes,” you argued, “Crank down the window, put the radio on, snack on some fries. Sometimes I read, as well. I’m used to spending long hours by myself.”

“Sounds like you haven’t changed much,” he smiled endearingly at you.

“Not even physically?” you pouted, “I’ve been going to the gym.”

He laughed at that. “Yes, I’ve noticed. You look much more… Mature?”

“Are you saying I look old, Todd?” you huffed.

“So fucking old. A hag.”

You stuck out your tongue at him and laughed together, as if nothing ever changed. As if he never died, as if you never grieved for him and longed for him.

“I’m kidding,” he conceded, “You look good. Really good. Dick’s a lucky guy.”

You frowned at the last comment. “It doesn’t bother you, does it? Me and Dick?”

Another pause. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Jason knew you well, so he knew how to answer you. His statement wasn’t a lie.

You heard the jingle of keys in the distance.

“Speak of the fucking devil,” Jason whispered into his drink before taking a big gulp.

“Honey, I’m ho- oh. Jason, I didn’t expect to find you here,” Dick stood in the doorway, stunned.

“Welcome back, babe,” you walked over and greeted your boyfriend with a kiss. For the first time, Dick looked slightly uncomfortable with your display of affection.

“You guys have been hanging out without me!” Dick whined, his child-like persona immediately taking over.

That was how Dick was. You noticed it after a few times with him, how he would mask his emotions or awkwardness with his happy, warm personality. He was a people person, charming his way anywhere and everywhere regardless of any situation.

Yet, you could see through it all. The grief, the aching fatigue, and the countless battle scars.

“Was just leaving,” Jason announced curtly.

“Ngaw, don’t be like that,” Dick tried to persuade him, “Stay a little while. We can catch up.”

“There’s nothing to catch up on,” Jason insisted, “Bye.”

He glanced once at you, and then left without saying a word.

There was a stark difference between the way he was with you and the way he was with Dick. In the short future, you would come to realize that it wasn’t that he was different with everyone else. Jason treated everyone else with the cold, rough demeanor you witnessed- but never you. You were the only one who knew him as though that Jason never died.

You saw Dick’s shoulders slump in disappointment. “How long was he here for?”

“About an hour?” you answered nonchalantly, going back to your case files.

“He has never spoken to me for more than 15 minutes,” Dick informed you, “Even then he would give non-committal answers.”

“Really?” you asked, frowning to yourself. It took just a little while for the both of you to go back to how things used to be. “Maybe he’s more upset at you since you’re his brother.”

“Nah, don’t think that’s it,” Dick came up behind you and nuzzled his face in your neck. “You smell good. Missed you.”

“Missed you too,” you hummed, “How was… Your mission?”

“Tiring,” he complained, “You choose a case already?”

“Maybe,” you replied, “Who was there?”

You heard Dick gulp. “Donna. Kon. Wally.”

“And?”

“Kori.”

You felt your chest tighten again. “Okay. I’m tired too. I think I’ll go to bed now.”

“You just drank coffee,” he pointed out, “You’re going to sleep now?”

“Or just lie in bed,” you responded, “Seeing Jason was… emotional.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he ran a hand through his dark, wavy hair.

“You coming?”

“I have to patrol,” he looked at you guiltily.

“But you just got back,” you argued.

“They can cover more ground when I’m around,” he explained. “Sorry. I’ll spend time with you tomorrow, okay?”

You smiled at him and reached a hand to press on his chest. He was so committed, and that’s what you loved about him. He really, truly cared.

“Just stay safe,” you gave him a deep kiss, tasting the cola chapstick he stole from you months ago.

“I’ll see you in the morning, darling,” he breathed.

That night you lay awake in bed, staring at darkness. You let your shadow go at night, allowing it to take over the room. A buzz came from your phone all of a sudden. Another unknown number.

You tapped it open.

This is my number if you need me. J.

It had been a while since you smiled whenever you lay alone, unable to sleep.

And how did you get mine?

You didn’t actually care. You were just so happy to be texting your best friend again.

I’m just a genius, Sunny. You staying up late to work?

You contemplated your answer.

No. Just couldn’t sleep. What do you do now, anyway? Do you patrol with the rest?

Sometimes. I mostly do my own thing now.

What thing?

Another story for another time, sunshine.

I’m glad you’re back, Jay. Thank you for seeing me today. Can we hang out soon?

We can hang out whenever you want.

You were typing a reply, but was interrupted by another message from him.

I missed you lots.

I missed you too, Jason. We have to get caught up with all the slumber parties we missed.

Don’t think Grayson would be too happy with that though.

My best friend is back from the dead. He can suck it up.

I’ll see you soon then?

You contemplated again.

What are you doing tomorrow? I got an interesting case. Wanna tag along?

***

Jason’s heart broke when he found out that you were with Dick. It was a large reason why he was so angry, and why he became so destructive. But he tried to stay angry at you, tried to hate you, but he just couldn’t bring himself to. The years without you were lonely, and he tried to fill up the emptiness with rage.

It took him so long after Bruce brought him back to his senses to finally see you because he was practicing. He knew he couldn’t bear to look at you and Dick while you were together, so he practiced controlling his emotions so he wouldn’t snap and scare you away.

But when you opened the door and he saw your face for the first time in years, everything dissipated. He didn’t need to control any anger because all he felt was longing. It didn’t matter if you were in love with Dick, all that mattered was that you were there next to him.

“Okay, so,” you began as you pulled the car to a stop in a street at Diamond District. “Rupert Thorne.”

“The guy who is running for mayor?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, browsing through the documents, “He allegedly backed Hill in the previous elections, but now he is running against Hill. My client wants me to find evidence of corruption and find out who his sponsors are.”

Jason saw the way your brows stitched together as you read through the file.

It was difficult to be in the same car as you. Even though he was in the passenger seat, he felt like it was a small closet, being suffocated by your demanding presence.

“Why doesn’t he sponsor himself? Isn’t he some sort of closeted crime lord too?” Jason asked.

“I guess that’s the mystery,” you hummed, “He must have been promised something, or he must have promised something- if he wins.”

You smelled like warm cinnamon and vanilla. All Jason wanted to do was to bury his face in your neck and breathe you in. The pull he felt towards you was almost physical. He needed to stop himself from touching you, from claiming you.

“So what’s the first step?” he tried to focus on the case.

“He works in that building there,” you looked outside across the street to the tall mirrored tower. “COO of Trident Shipping Company. He’s doing quite well in popularity lately… Articles say he is modest and humble, charming, thoughtful, charitable… The list goes on. Must have a great PR team.”

Jason smiled to himself. You were starting to think out loud, a habit of yours he noticed one night during a strategy meeting with the team. So many years ago.

“Anyway, we want to see where he goes, who he meets, what he does-”

“Oh no,” Jason groaned, “You scammed me into a stakeout!”

He really didn’t mind if it meant spending long hours with you in your cozy car.

“It’ll be fun!” you tried to convince him, “We can catch up in the meantime! Plus, I do also need to bug his phone. Might need your help with that. I also have some metka, so maybe we can pollinate some lead suspects once we narrow them down and-”

“Woah, woah, woah, hold up,” Jason started chuckling in disbelief, “First of all- one step at a time, please. Let’s make a structured flowchart first before you start rambling off fifty-seven steps ahead. Second of all- metka, are you fucking with me right now? How did you get your hands on Soviet Cold War tech?”

Metka or spy dust- chemically known as nitrophenyl pentadienal or NPPD- was an old and outdated, yet still effective, Russian method of marking or tagging suspected CIA agents during the Cold War by the KGB. It was a discreet powder that stuck to everything. They would tag the agents at the airport, and then anything the agent touched would have traces of the dust. Including Russian assets- spies or informants working for the CIA. They would be able to identify the traitors.

“I’m a PI,” you said smugly, “I’m resourceful.”

Yes, you were. Jason beamed proudly at you. But he said, “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, how about the bug?”

“I have this-” you rummaged through your messenger bag and took out a small silver card the size of a hotel matchbox. It had the Bat sigil.

“So I assume you have Batman’s NFC card because you’re resourceful?” Jason teased. He knew the gadget well. The near field communication device allowed hijacking into another electronic device with NFC just by near contact. It could allow for cloning the device, or installing spyware.

You stuck your tongue at him childishly.

“I wonder what Batman would think of you stealing his gadgets for personal use,” Jason jested.

“Okay, I borrowed it from DIck, and it’s not like I’m using it for personal reasons. This is a highly professional operation,” you huffed, “Anyway, if you could let me finish telling you my plan. It says that Thorne is into French girls and he usually comes out for a smoke break around this time.”

“And?”

“I will be bumping into him. The NFC needs about 30 seconds of contact. I’ll slip the card in the pocket where he keeps his phone. But in case I can’t stick around to take it out, you will have to come walking behind me to pickpocket it from him.”

“Sounds good. What if he’s using his phone?”

“I’ll bump it out of his hand and apologize profusely,” you grinned. “Okay I need to get ready.”

You unbuttoned your weathered leather jacket to reveal a white top with a low neckline, giving Jason a good view of your cleavage.

“Uhhh,” he started awkwardly.

You ignored him and looked in the mirror, smearing lipstick on your lips and smacking them. Then, you ruffled your hair to give it more volume before turning to face him with a “How do I look?”

The red you chose for your lipstick matched your skin tone perfectly. And he never noticed you had a tiny cute mole on the top of your left breast. The way your hair was effortlessly messy made Jason imagine that was how you would look like in the mornings, or when he takes a handful of it while kissing you rough-

“G-great,” he complimented weakly.

If he hadn’t already died, then you were going to be the death of him.

“Oh shit, there he is,” you opened the car. “Quick, hang around a few feet behind me.”

Jason saw you strut as you approached Thorne. He was tall and handsome, and looked good for a man his age. Jason could tell that his suit was expensive. His coat was probably cashmere. He could see why Thorne was so popular. He definitely looked the part. He was talking on his phone, and he was now curious as to what you had in mind.

From down the block and in the crowd, Jason saw you pretend to talk on your phone in perfect French, rushing somewhere unknown. He didn’t notice the cup you were carrying before.

“Ah, putain! I am zo zorr’y, Monsieur!” you bumped hard into Thorne, spilling liquid all over his coat and yourself.

Thorne looked surprised, and then pocketed his phone in his coat. “It’s quite alright.”

“No, no, pleez. Let me ‘elp you,” you made a fuss. You took out a handkerchief from your bag and simultaneously shrugged off your jacket. Jason smirked to himself. No hot-blooded male would be able to resist the sight of you in a wet white low neckline t-shirt.

“Let me pay for your dry cleaning,” you worried, “Oh, putain it speeled down here too.”

You got on your knees and started dabbing the hem of his coat.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Thorne smiled and held your shoulder in a gesture to help you up.

“I am really zo zorr’y,” you looked up at him.

A flash of lust sparked Thornes’ eyes, and Jason knew you were batting your eyelashes at him from that angle. It made him want to punch Thorne square in the jaw.

“It’s really alright, madam,” he insisted, “It was my fault for standing in the middle of a busy pedestrian walkway.”

“I should ‘ave watched where I was walking,” you bit your lip and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Well, let’s just both move on from this. Please don’t worry, I can get my assistants to get me another coat,” he rested his hand on your lower back as he walked you towards the street. “Here is my business card. Feel free to contact me if you need any help navigating the city. I would love to show you all the fine restaurants in Gotham.”

“Monsieur, you are too kind,” you pouted.

“I should thank you for bumping into me,” he winked, “It’s not everyday I get to see a beautiful lady.”

You pretended to blush.

“I have to go now,” he announced, “Please give me a call.”

And with that, he entered the building.

You walked towards Jason with the look of a kid who scored his first goal.

But then, facing him now, Jason swore under his breath. No wonder you managed to bewitch Thorne so easily.

Your shirt was practically see through, and everyone was turning their heads at you. He could see your black lacy bra, and how your tits bounced as you jogged towards him.

“Hells to the yes!” you celebrated, “That was more than thirty seconds. I got the card back and- what are you doing?”

Jason had grabbed your jacket and forcefully put it over your shoulders. “Let’s hurry back to the car.”

Yeah, you were going to be the death of him.

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: INFP, 25. Feeling pretty lost in life. After a long battle with mental illness (runs in the family, I'm surrounded by people that as of now don't want to go to therapy and keep reliving the same patterns, hurting everyone who hasn't gone through the process I've - THANK GOODNESS - gone through thanks to therapy and medication), I find myself unemployed, without friends, without money, still studying for my degree (I'm almost finished though) and for the first time seeing things so, so clearly.

I wasted most of my teenage years trying to understand what the fuck was going on in my head, battling anorexia, depression and social anxiety - and the latter still has a big impact on the way I speak to people since words don't come to my head, plus depression really wrecked my memory and it can take a whole 20 minutes for me to remember a specific name that I wanted to bring up in a conversation. I feel like I'm cooked.

I don't hate myself nor I feel like I have low self-esteem; actually, I really like who I am when given the time and emotional space to make my true self and inner creativity shine. I think I could give a lot to people but because of a general lack of understanding of common references cause I was detached from everything most of my life and I've missed them all, I tend to be perceived as cringe/weird/naive/childish and none of my conversations are surviving past the first week.

I'm really trying hard to develop my vocabulary, catching up with tv shows characters or even basic history references, but it feels like a huge toll of notions that I can't possibly internalize in such a short amount of time. These people dedicated years (consciously or not) to common knowledge, their family members had culture and raised them to be curious about the world - I'm only now waking up and looking at the world for the first time, with the intention of developing my social and verbal skills.

Basically I need to step up my life and I don't feel like it's working cause everyone can tell I'm so behind and I'm not up their standards - especially in my age range, and considering my economic state. Whenever they ask "what's your job" or "what's your favorite music genre" and I can't really give them an answer to either, I feel ashamed. I know it's not my fault, I had to survive violence and ignorance growing up and I was never given the time to discover who I am or to become a functioning member of society or even feel "safe" enough to try ANYTHING, so yeah, I do have self-compassion, I guess - but others seem like they don't, and I'm so slow when I speak, I'm so slow when I wanna come up with a joke and in a social setting everyone looks at each other like they think I'm stupid.

Is there any advice you can give me? I know I can make it. I am exactly like everyone else, I can develop the same abilities and have a good future. Am I right? Or is this just some lie I'm telling myself? Am I deluded? Will people always look down on me and avoid me altogether?

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

I'm not in a position to tell you that you're lying to yourself; it's something you need to determine through honest self-reflection. There's nothing wrong with talking yourself up in order to motivate yourself to do better. It's also a good thing to try to focus more on the positive aspects of life, especially when you have a history of getting stuck in negativity or narrow-mindedness. This would certainly help you with Ne development, which should be an ongoing project.

As far as I can tell, the root of the problem you're describing isn't psychological but social. Not everything in life is under our control. In fact, studies have consistently revealed that people are far more influenced by their social environment than they care to admit. You don't get to choose which family you're born into. As a child, you have no say in which neighborhood, city, or country you live in. Yet, upbringing, community, and culture are three major factors that influence the trajectory of your life, everyone's life.

If you're unlucky, you grow up experiencing a painful mismatch of personality and environment. And it is down to luck. You shouldn't fault yourself for accidents of birth. And you also can't really fault the "environment" because it's not really a conscious entity that intentionally sets out to harm people. Although the social environment is created by the people comprising it, it's not within any given individual's power to change or control it. This is why, historically, you see people migrate far from home, in search of better environments with better opportunities.

You're young and, because of your upbringing, you didn't really get a chance to participate properly in the world. This means you haven't really experienced firsthand just how big the world can be. There is such a diversity of people, places, and culture in the world, which I take to mean that there's a place for every person. Somewhere in the world, there's a place that will allow you to be your true self. Somewhere in the world, there's a place that will help bring out the best in you and allow you to contribute the best of yourself.

However, that place may or may not be where you were born and raised. When you feel like you don't fit in despite all your best efforts, it might help to ask whether this is really the place you're meant to be and the people you're meant to be associated with...

I've known a lot of immigrants in my lifetime, so I have taken part in many complicated discussions about how to fit in, culturally. Some people find it easier to pick up mainstream culture as they go, looking up references and remembering them as necessary. Some people like to be more prepared and put effort into studying cultural history. I've had a lot of people ask me for help getting to know western culture's most important artists, writers, books, musicians, songs, movies, and tv shows by decade.

It used to be easier to learn cultural knowledge when media was more centralized. Nowadays, people are more siloed, ironically because of social media. Subcultures abound, appearing and disappearing with short-lived social media trends. In today's chaotic media landscape, trying to keep up with the latest cultural trends isn't really worth the energy anymore because collective memory has become so short. What's the point of remembering a meme or viral event when most people will have forgotten it a month later?

What is one to do when faced with this kind of information overload? There are two helpful strategies that go together:

(1) Narrow Your Focus

One reason people are so interested in cultural knowledge is because culture is an important avenue of self-discovery. Have you ever noticed that when they put together a boy/girl band, they find four or five guys/gals with very different and distinct personalities? They're hoping to ensure that teenage listeners will find at least one band member to relate to on a deeper level. It's a way to cover all the bases and maximize the chances of turning someone into a fan. While it sounds like a cynical and calculated ploy, it's actually an important way for teenagers to learn more about their own likes/dislikes, in contrast to others.

One could argue that the reason we have so many genres in music, movies, tv shows, and literature is because of the diversity of human beings. We're all born with a personality that we express in our own unique way, which means we all have a propensity to like and dislike certain things. As much as I've tried to get into death metal, I just can't seem to resonate with it. And there's nothing wrong with that, as long as I'm not out there trying to stop other people from appreciating it. We are all entitled to our personal tastes.

You're hoping that by learning more cultural knowledge, some of those factoids will eventually pay off during a social interaction. But what are the odds that they will? Pretty low because it's too random. Is it really worth the energy spent in remembering all that information only for a small portion of it to come in handy at some random time in the future? Sure, there are people who have a head for remembering trivia, but if you're not one of them, it quickly becomes a waste of energy that could be better spent elsewhere.

But wastefulness aside, cramming yourself full of factoids isn't a good strategy for two reasons. Firstly, when learning is motivated solely by a desire to obtain external rewards (e.g. approval or money), people don't tend to achieve true mastery or genuine appreciation of the subject matter. In other words, it's a shallow way of learning that doesn't help memory retention, as you're finding out. Secondly, doing something just to impress others is basically contorting yourself to conform with other people's expectations. This doesn't help you learn about yourself, quite the opposite, it takes you farther and farther away from yourself, which is why it doesn't feel right.

While we often associate identity formation with adolescence, the fact is that learning about who you really are is a lifelong task. Thus, the question isn't about when you started (early or late), it's more about whether you're using a good approach that actually gets you incrementally closer to the truth of who you really are.

If participation in culture is an important pathway for learning about oneself, what you should be doing is exploring different aspects of culture to learn about potential likes, dislikes, interests, and hobbies. For example, you're not going to know whether you like horror movies until you watch a few. But once you've watched a representative sample of the genre and realize you don't like it, let it go and move onto something else.

It's almost as though you believe you have to know everything so that you can relate to anyone. I don't think this is a good or efficient socializing strategy, unless you love researching and have a great memory. You need to accept the fact that you're not going to be friends with everyone. It's okay that you're more compatible with some people more than others.

To improve your chances of social success, you have to know what you're looking for and how to find it. When you go fishing, you don't just throw a hook in the water and hope for the best, right? You have to use the right kind of bait. In the context of relationships, "bait" refers to the things that attract people to each other. One of the best and fastest ways of connecting with people is through common interests. However, this pathway won't be available to you as long as your interests aren't genuine or you haven't developed them properly.

(2) Prioritize Quality (Over Quantity)

One reason people feel easily inundated with too much information is lack of critical thinking skills. Critical thinking helps you sort through information and evaluate its quality. It's like learning how to quickly spot the rare diamonds amongst the pile of cheap shiny jewels. This also helps with the first point of narrowing your focus.

When you have a better idea of what you like or find intriguing, you open up opportunities to dig deeper and nurture a more sophisticated appreciation of the subject, to refine your tastes. A like/interest (feeling) can be transformed into an edifying intellectual pursuit (skill). But this can only happen if you value learning for its growth potential and not just for the social approval it might bring.

You seem a bit too concerned with how people judge you as a "weirdo". It could be the case that you've met some nasty people. But it could also be the case that you're projecting because you low-key feel ashamed of being "behind" in your development.

There's nothing wrong with being ignorant when it happens through no fault of your own. Nobody comes out of the womb knowing everything and we don't all have equal opportunity to learn what we need to know. It's pointless and illogical to compare yourself to others when you didn't begin life at the same starting line. And being human means having blind spots. Ignorance only becomes problematic when it is willful, that is, a person denies their ignorance and refuses to remedy it with proper learning. Given your motivation to learn, it's clear that you're not stuck in a state of willful ignorance, so there is nothing to feel ashamed about.

On occasion, people come to me asking about a psychology book they've read, only for me to break the bad news to them that it's a terrible book, full of misinformation. Should they then walk away and give up out of embarrassment? I sure hope not. I hope that they would learn to choose their learning resources more carefully.

The trouble with being a newbie is that you don't yet know enough to separate out the good stuff from the junk. To counter this, instead of becoming too reliant on one resource, communicate with a wide variety of people who seem to exhibit more knowledge than you. Eventually, you'll get a better feel for the quality of the knowledge. For example, if most experts are in general agreement, then you've probably stumbled upon trustworthy information. But when nobody can seem to agree on what the "truth" is, then be more careful.

Following from that, instead of slinking away in shame when you're caught not knowing something that seemingly "everybody should know", why not just be honest about not having had the chance to learn and welcome the person to enlighten you? Allow yourself to be humbly schooled. I can't tell you the amount of useful information I've picked up by simply letting people go on and on about their passions and interests.

Doing this could also take a lot of pressure off you, in terms of having the opportunity to: 1) sit back, relax, and listen, 2) learn and absorb information in a more natural setting, and 3) get some valuable tips about which direction to take your learning and where to find quality sources of information to speed up your learning. You might even get inspired to pursue something new and interesting.

The concept of "quality" also applies to people. Every person is a mixture of positive and negative qualities, but some people exhibit more of their negative qualities. When you meet people like that, it is fine to feel repelled and get away from them. But don't then overreact and overgeneralize and believe that everyone is bad.

If the people you're interacting with are truly judgmental jerks, it's better to find out sooner so that you don't end up in a toxic relationship. You truly like yourself? Then wear it proudly. Be open, authentic, and transparent about who you are and the struggles you've been through. Observe how willing people are to accept all of you. This should help you quickly separate out the good from the bad eggs. A good person should be:

empathetic and compassionate

willing to give you the benefit of the doubt

inclined to see and acknowledge the good in you

curious rather than judgmental

sensitive and accommodating, within reason

Every place has its good and bad people, and meeting new people is luck of the draw. When you meet bad people, there's no need to waste time with blame or anger. It's their problem, not yours. Simply walk away and keep looking for good people. And if your social environment isn't overflowing with your kind of people, you might have to migrate to a new and better environment.

Generally speaking, the process of improving yourself and your life goes a lot more smoothly when you know how to tune out noise and keep focused on your main goals.

[jina1028]

Meet again

Renjun x fem!reader

Categories: chubby reader, use of alcohol (no one gets drunk), smut, making out, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (always use protection!), fingering, squirting, creampie, cockwarming (kinda?), MDNI, 18+

A.N. Sorry this took forever, I just lost inspiration about writing and also have no time to balance work, friends, family, hobbies, stuff and life in general 🥲 I guess I felt overwhelmed but I still felt sorry for the anons who requested some fics from me so I managed to write this, hope it turned out somewhat good! I still have to write some other stuff, I need to be more consistent, again I'm sorry! Finally, enjoy and give me feedback, thanks!

~♡~

You were having a pretty decent day, unusual for you since for the last few weeks you were struggling with university, grades and your part-time job.

You were quite suspicious of this anomalously sunny, relaxed, uneventful day, until dinner with your parents when they announced the most horrendous thing you could think of: a double family vacation with your long time enemy, Renjun and his parents, to revive the old times when you all used to hang out together.

You tried to escape from your fate lying to your parents about having to work, but they remembered well the time when you told them about you asking your employer a week off. You couldn't back out now making up more excuses without looking suspicious so you finished your food and sadly paced to your room in silence.

You remembered the time when you and Renjun used to play together all the time and went along quite well, but that was before puberty, before he started to mock everything about you, from your voice, to your hair, to your clothes: growing up you felt insecure about your body and your curves, so you started hiding under oversized clothes. Your voice finally changed for the better, and you learned how to style your hair nicely, but you still hid your body in baggy clothes. You just hoped that Renjun was a bit more mature now that he wasn't a kid anymore.

Fast forward, it was finally time to meet Renjun and his parents at the house on the seaside you all rented. He greeted you politely in front of his parents and hadn't stopped eyeing you from head to toes in a strange way since. It was kinda annoying actually and you wondered when his real self will show up and start teasing you. The rest of the day passed with you trying to avoid him and ignore his staring.

The next day you still avoided Renjun by skipping breakfast at the table where he was sat at and you went directly to the beach without sparing him a single glance and putting your headphones on, starting your favorite song right away. Little did you know he tried to call your name and started following you.

You stopped on your tracks when you caught a shadow with the corner of your eye and nearly screeched in fear when you saw Renjun so close to you. Your reaction startled him but at the same time he was amused and to your disdain he started laughing, his cristalline voice finally reaching your ears as you took off your headphones. You almost started laughing with him, but you masked it with a fake cough, 'that was close', you mentally reprimanded yourself.

You removed your headphones and crossed your arms waiting for him to stop laughing, a slight scowl on your face.

"Sorry," he finally caught his breath "I tried to call you to go to the beach together since I was coming anyway, didn't mean to scare you".

He joined you on your walk after you replied a quick "Fine, let's go then". You felt stiff in his presence, your memories about middle school when he started to nag you at every occasion, when you finally cut him off your life after growing apart made you uncomfortable. The fact that he grew to be such a good looking young man wasn't helping you feel more at ease, you had to admit.

You finally reached your destination, Renjun occasionally trying to make small talk, you replying shortly, until you picked your spot on the warm sand, laid your towel and sat on it.

Renjun laid his own next to yours, ignoring the dirty look you gave it noticing the closeness, and removed his clothes until he was in his swimsuit. You immediately diverted your eyes, not wanting to be caught staring.

He took his sunscreen from the small bag he brought and started applying it on his body, until he stopped, struggling a bit to reach his back and finally giving up.

"Could you help me with my back?"

"Why didn't you ask your mom before coming?"

"Well, I didn't. Now please help me, or do you want me tu get a sunburn?"

"What if I draw a dick on your back with sunscreen?" You smiled at him apparently joking, but you thought you could actually do it.

Renjun smiled back, confused "Why would you do that? Come on, just help meeee"

You scoffed, why would he pretend to not remember the kind of moron he was back then? He probably still was a moron, right? Who cares if he looks good and his face shines when he smiles, you wouldn't be fooled!

You finally gave in, just to stop his insisting laments. You started rubbing the cream on his skin, noticing how smooth and good it felt under your fingers, wait, were you actually enjoying it?

A sudden moan broke your train of thoughts, was it you? You realized it was Renjun when he opened his mouth again "Can you massage a bit right there? It feels goo- OWW!", you slapped the spot between his shoulders "All done, now leave me alone".

You fixed the hat on your head and started searching for a book in your bag. Renjun observed you making yourself comfortable, using your bag as a pillow to rest your head on while opening your book at the new chapter you were gonna read. He pondered if continuing to annoy you just to have you talk to him or let you read in peace and opted for the latter, taking a mental note not to piss you off beyond your limits.

And so a couple days passed like that, everywhere you went, Renjun followed, resulting in constant banter between the two of you. You wondered why he kept sticking to you if all he was gonna do was piss you off. Or was it just you being salty about the younger Renjun you knew so you didn't wanna give a chance to the present him? Was he really that annoying or were you distorting his personality in your head because you thought it was more convenient like that?

You started questioning yourself on the fourth day when he told off a guy who was trying to get your number at the snack bar next to the beach. You initially got angry at Renjun "Did you just cockblock me?", you glared at him, was he trying to sabotage your chance at getting laid?

Renjun looked took off guard by your tone and look in the eyes "Of course not, I was just trying to save you from a dickhead".

"A dickhead? You're failing 'cause you're still here" you bitterly spat out.

Renjun opened his mouth to reply, no sound coming out for a second, stuttering at first "I heard him talking to his friend right now, they were making fun of you".

You didn't know if you felt more offended about the possibility of some random guy making fun of you for whatever reason, or the fact that you didn't notice and Renjun had to step in like a knight in shining armor, which obviously he wasn't in your eyes. You stood up and started leaving, Renjun catching up right away, walking silently behind you, overthinking about what happened and why you looked so mad and hurt.

The next day you decided to confront him. You were confused about him, was he still the same kind of person he was back in middle school? Were you just projecting the bad memories on him? What really happened at the bar? Was it all true? Why did he defend you if he was still the obnoxious kid you used to know?

You couldn't face him about your concerns without some help though, so you decided to do that in front of some alcohol to ease a bit of tension.

It was evening, after dinner, you and Renjun were left alone at the house, your parents heard there was some over fifty club in town and went to have some fun.

You took some beer, soda and lemons out the fridge and called for Renjun to help you make some drinks. They turned out pretty good so you sat on the front porch, stars shining on you and music from the radio in the living room coming through the open window. Renjun sat next to you on the wicker sofa sipping his drink, waiting for you to say something.

"Renjun, I'm just curious, what did that guy say yesterday?", you asked directly, not wanting to waste time beating around the bush.

He sighed a little, talking slowly, like if measuring his words "He told his friend something about you being more approachable because you don't look that good, his friend thought he wouldn't be able to get your number anyway so they bet on it, that's what I heard".

Renjun glanced at you "You know, not to try and make tou happier, but I think you would look better with more fitting clothes, to show your curves instead of hiding them..."

You blushed turning slightly away from him to hide it "Why do you care, you used to mock me when we were kids because I was chubby, that's why I didn't want to be friends anymore".

Renjun chuckled "Yeah I was a moron back then, I'm sorry... Actually as a kid I didn't know how to tell someone I liked them so instead I tried to get their attention the wrong way. Maybe that's a skill I still lack..."

"Did you just tell me you used to like me?", you were astonished.

"Well yeah..." he scratched his head, making eye contact with you "and after I met you again I think I still like you... and I still don't know the right way to get your attention, I guess".

After a moment of silence you rested your face in your hands, suddenly snorting and starting to laugh, startling Renjun who thought you were crying and internally panicked, not knowing what to say. You finally showed your face, a beaming smile after realizing the stupid misunderstandings that led to you and Renjun being enemies, while it was just a terrible approach from the kid you liked and that actually liked you back.

That finally cleared up your mind, Renjun was just immature back then, like every single kid that age. And obviously growing up he matured, he was actually nice to have around once you let go of the image of him you painted in your mind.

"Hold on, is it the alcohol or did you just say you still like me?"

"Yeah I said just that, I think you're pretty hot and it's a shame you never strip in your swimsuit when we go to the beach" Renjun playfully replied.

You were shocked but interested by his sudden confession "Are you really that horny?", you teased him.

"Only if it's you I'm thinking about, I realized these days"

"What do you mean? Please, elaborate" you turned to face him, your elbow resting on the back of the sofa, your other hand holding the glass, sipping your drink, eyeing Renjun up and down.

Renjun smirked "What if I told you these nights I often thought about you, and touched myself imagining it was your hand..." his voice was low, enciting you to get closer to hear his dirty words.

"What if I told you I wish I could see what you hide under those baggy clothes?" he slowly approached you, his hand now resting on your thigh, slightly pressing his fingers in your clothed flesh.

His face now was much more closer, you could sense his breath on your lips, and you realized you were leaning in to meet him halfway. Your lips finally met and pressed together, moving against eachother experimentally.

The thrilling sensation you felt in your spine when he caressed your lips with his warm tongue had you shivering despite the hot weather, and a hand came up to your neck to deepen the kiss.

Renjun started kissing you like he was hungry, licking and softly biting, slowly starting to move his lips across your jaw to your neck, not caring about possibly leaving a mark on your skin, his hands roamed around your body, pressing and sqeezing on your soft skin, eventually landing on your plush butt.

Your hands grabbed on his hair, wanting him to continue his attack on your neck but at the same time getting impatient because you wanted more.

"Renjun" you tried to call his name but he just groaned in response, sucking your neck more harshly.

"Renjun, wait... Stop!" you finally caught his attention and he raised his head to look at you, concern in his eyes.

"Is something wrong? Is it too much? If you wanna stop I-"

You interrupted him with your fingers on his lips "Let's go upstairs."

He smiled and followed you without being told twice.

You pushed him on your bed and started lifting your t-shirt, Renjun resting his weight on his elbows anticipating what you were going to reveal, and he was beyond extatic, wanting nothing more than to have you in his arms and hug your pretty curves.

He noticed your apprehension though, a part of you still insecure about revealing yourself, even though he made clear that he liked you and your body, so he scurried to remove his own shirt and pants, and like that he encouraged you to strip out of your pants too and join him on the bed.

He immediately pushed you on your back and hovered above you, keeping your thighs open with his knees and with one hand he started caressing your cheeks, neck, chest, squeezing your plush breasts between his fingers, grazing on your nipples while doing so, a soft gasp leaving your lips.

That sound made him dive in to kiss you, devouring your lips and sucking on your tongue, swallowing every little moan and whimper you let out while his hand traveled lower and lower, reaching your panties and moving the hem to the side.

Renjun couldn't help his own moan escaping his lips when he felt your arousal on his fingers. He started softly rubbing your clit, spreading your wetness on it to heighten your pleasure, occasionally slipping the tip of his middle finger into your hole, to then come back to your clit and tease you some more.

Your breath was becoming labored, you liked everything he was doing but every time you felt like you were getting closer and started clenching on his finger he slowed his pace. You felt like he was doing it on purpose so involuntarily you let out a frustrated whine.

Renjun kept slowly fucking his finger into you and coming back to your clit, chuckling at your little outburst "Is everything ok? You're so wet, don't you like it?" he punctuated his last words pushing a second finger in and curling upward, hitting your sweet spot just once.

You moaned loudly, slapping a hand on your mouth, but still managing to form a sentence and say it without thinking "Please, please, stop teasing and fuck me already, please make me come!"

"Alright, I'll make you come" Renjun smiled down at you, kissing you with fervor once again, slipping his fingers out of your dripping pussy. He used the slick on his fingers to pump his cock a few times before pushing your panties aside once again and finally pushing it inside of you with a groan.

You felt heavenly, the perfect girth to stretch you nicely without hurting, reaching your sweet spot just right, making you moan with every thrust of his hips against your thighs, the sound of skin slapping skin soon filling the room with the rough pace he was setting.

The pleasure was so much you barely could stand it, you started sobbing and tearing up, Renjun reaching a hand to wipe a tear from the corner of your eye.

He slowed down, seeing your state "Do I have to stop?" he was a bit concerned despite the lust filling his mind in that moment.

"Don't you dare to stop, Renjun!" your voice coming out harsher than you expected.

Renjun smirked and started pounding into you harder than before, squelching sounds filling his ears and moans of pleasure and effort tumbling out of his mouth one after the other.

You felt your whole body starting to tense up and burn until you finally snapped and with a last whimper you came hard around his cock, squirting a bit (which you didn't even know you were capable of) and wetting his pelvis and the sheets underneath you.

"Fuck..." he gasped at the sensation of your pussy convulsing on his cock and the feeling and sight of you squirting around him, and that sent him over the edge, coming inside of your spent hole with a few shallow thrusts, splurting his seed deep inside of you with one last satisfied moan.

He collapsed on top of you, careful not to hurt you, still keeping his cock inside you, both of you catching your breaths. He squeezed you tight, loving the feeling of your soft curves between his arms.

"Let's stay like this forever" Renjun lazily said in your ear, making you giggle.

"We have to get presentable before our parents come back"

He groaned "Right, but let's do this again, and maybe we could also date sometimes, you know..."

You smiled at him, eyes sparkling. "That's a nice idea, let's do that sometimes!"

[bluebeary-jay]

hiii!! I LOVE ur writing so much especially your fluff sooooooo

fluff w this prompt?

“fine, keep acting like you hate me.”

CONGRATS ON 1K U DESERVE ITTT ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

HIIII MY FIRST LOVELY 1K REQUESTER 💕💕💕

Okay okay okay so you didn't specify which character you want so I picked Javi cause I already have a few Joels in my ask box buuut I'm actually really happy with how it turned out so I hope you'll like it!! ((There's so much fluff in this one though it's only 1.4K words))

Thank you again, darling, happy reading and i love youu!!! 💖

Javier knew that he made a mistake.

Maybe not a mistake – mistakes so very often had grave consequences in his line of work. More like a miscalculation. A stupid prank.

“A mistake,” Steve told him sternly. “You absolute moron.”

Peña just flipped him off.

Okay, maybe flirting with that secretary in your plain sight was a dumb move, but at the time it seemed like a perfect retaliation. And really, it was you who started all of it by wanting to prove to Javier the night before that he does get jealous when it comes to you.

He didn’t. He doesn’t. What he felt when you let that man at the bar flirt with you for at least twenty minutes had nothing to do with the fervor of hot kisses and passionate words that poured out of Javier after he whisked you back home.

“You were practically green,” you said softly later that night when you two were lying in bed. You had your head on Javier’s chest and he was stroking the skin of your back softly, trying to silence the whirlwind of conflicted emotions inside of him.

“F’course I wasn’t. Just had to make sure that guy wasn’t gonna try anything with you.”

“If you say so. But I think you’re full of it.”

You acted so smug about it, and only stopped after Javier completely tired you out. But what he tried to hide by biting your ear gently and kissing his way down your body was how true your words really rang.

Because deep down Javier Peña knew that he was jealous. He had a good reason for it, of course – you were fucking gorgeous, after all, and maybe he was still slightly insecure about what such a sweet angel was doing with a sinner like him. And besides… This was the first serious relationship he had in years. It was hard to separate the wary side of him that instinctively denied any sentiments and kept everyone at bay from the new him who tried to embrace the warmth and safety your love was giving him.

So that was probably why he decided to get back at you.

And the next day when you stepped out of the chief's office, you were greeted with a sight of Javier tucking the hair behind the ear and complimenting the earrings of the new secretary he was talking to. He made eye contact above her shoulder and sent you a wink when you squinted with disregard, obviously knowing what he was up to.

He also made sure you saw him swiping his bottom lip slowly with his thumb – a move he very well knew always got you hot and bothered.

Though when he looked up again, you were gone.

Maybe he could’ve guessed it’d end like this, Javier thought as he casually (and not at all nervously) walked around the embassy, looking for you. It was supposed to be a payback – for what exactly, even he didn’t know – but it backfired immensely when after his little stunt you opted to avoid him the rest of the day.

And that was a low blow. Because while your attempts at ignoring him were futile, only serving to get Javier going and making him eager to rile you up and see you break, it didn’t give him the same satisfaction when you weren’t there to witness his teasing.

Since you worked in the same building, you couldn’t exactly avoid him forever, but damn if you didn’t try. It took Javier half a day to finally escape work and manage to corner you in one of the file rooms.

You didn’t look up even when he locked the door, obviously aware that it was him you now were trapped with.

“You sure are good at hiding from a DEA agent, cariño,” Javier rasped, a little breathless but weirdly excited from the chase.

But you didn’t move, still casually gathering necessary files. A hint of a smile was dancing in the corner of your mouth and that was the thing that confirmed his suspicions that you weren’t actually mad at him, but only beating him as his own game.

And honestly, as Javier’s eyes wandered over your silhouette, admiring the beauty of the woman he fell in love with, he was willing to let it go.

He slowly sauntered to you, feeling all hot under his suit the closer he got. You always seemed to have this effect on him.

“Are you still mad?” he asked huskily, circling you like you’re his prey. You lifted your shoulder in a half-shrug, and your fake disinterest only turned him on even more. He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you against him and humming with satisfaction when he saw you pressing your lips together to suppress a smile. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, querida.”

You didn’t take the bait like he hoped for, and Peña groaned in small frustration when you continued to give him the silent treatment.

For fuck’s sake, you really had him wrapped around your little finger.

“Fine,” he murmured, breathing hot air on your ear and smirking with delight when he felt you shiver slightly against him. He pressed his lips to the spot below your ear softly, and then continued to go down the column of your neck. “Keep acting like you hate me.”

You didn’t move or acknowledge him in any way, but Javier could see your hand, which was previously sorting through some papers, gripping the shelf as if you tried not to lose yourself in his ministrations. It made him smile to himself and wrap his arms more securely around you, forcing you to take half a step back so that your bodies fitted together perfectly.

“We both know that’s all it is. An act,” Javier murmured, peppering your neck and shoulder in slow, tender kisses. He sighed heavily, with peace he rarely experienced these days, and closed his eyes as he felt your form melting into him. “Serás mi muerte, bebita.”

You stifled a laugh and leaned your head back on Javier’s shoulder, glancing at him with twinkling eyes. “What are you even doing here, agent Peña? Didn’t you have some unfinished business with that secretary?”

“Why, you jealous?” he asked, nibbling at your skin, and you snorted.

“You wish,” you replied but then squealed when he bit your neck unexpectedly.

“Mi nena terca.”

You stopped hiding your beautiful, radiant smile and turned around in his arms, leaning back against the shelf. Javier kept his hand between the small of your back and the harsh metal, not wanting it to dig into your skin uncomfortably.

“You didn’t last very long,” you said, but now your tone was soft, with no traces of mockery or playfulness he heard earlier. “I thought that given how things once were, I’d be the one to eventually seek you out.”

“It’s ‘cause I don’t wanna go back to how things were,” he whispered, his eyes boring into yours, trying to convey to you that he meant every word. “I don’t care about anyone else, bebita. You are the one for me and I want you to know that.”

“I know, Javi,” you reassured him gently, brushing some hair away from his forehead. “You don’t need to explain.”

“Still.” He nudged your nose with yours, inching his lips closer to where he desperately yearned to put them. “Let me make it up to you. Take you out. Somewhere romantic, not that dingy bar like the last time.”

“Because you don’t want to see me flirting with strangers?”

Your seemingly innocent question made the hold he had on you tighten, and Javier exhaled heavily through his nose.

“Fuck, bebita, have you seen yourself? Of course I don’t. You are mine, and mine alone.” He planted a soft kiss on your lips, not looking away for even a second. “And I’m yours.”

It didn’t feel weird, anymore, to say it. It felt right and warm, and wonderful. Javier never would’ve guessed he’d feel like that about anyone, but here you were – so perfect and standing right in front of him.

“I really wanna kiss you,” you whispered, and he mirrored your bright smile, something very few people have ever seen.

“Just to shut me up? Or have you perhaps missed me, too?”

Your lips surged forward, smashing into his eagerly and not bothering to answer him. Agent Peña let the overwhelming love for you guide his movements as he cradled the back of your head and pulled you closer and flush against himself.

Seemed that from the very beginning he didn’t need to feel jealous.

It was clear that you were his and his only.

Serás mi muerte, bebita - You’ll be the death of me, baby

Mi nena terca - My stubborn baby

[creative-kny-fics]

Hello! Could you do

Switches: Sanemi, Nezuko, Tanjiro?

Sure! I dont see why not! (Sorry for the delay...I've been trying to move forward with other projects)

Switches: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Tanjiro Kamado and Nezuko Kamado

The Kamado siblings' mission seemed to be complicated. That mission? Well, let's let Giyuu explain it!

'Tomioka-San! Good morning... What's happening? You looks..'

'Hmm? Oh no! Calm down Tanjiro! It's just that I recently spoke to Shinazugawa, he seemed upset, not with me of course, but he asked me not to see him for the rest of the day to avoid any shouting or insults on his part', mhm, Sanemi had returned to being the same angry chihuahua always.

But don't worry, Nezuko and Tanjiro were definitely not going to let Shinazugawa be upset, so they went to his estate and knocked on the door insistently even though Shinazugawa had told them to leave from the first knock.

'Bloody hell! What part of what-?!'

'Sa-Sanemi!', Nezuko hugged Sanemi, it seemed he had no choice but to let them pass and apologize for the misunderstanding. 'Shinazugawa-San! We brought you ohagi! We passed by and wanted to come and say hello! How are you doing?'

'Good. And thank you, I guess... Sorry for yelling at you earlier, I wasn't in the mood', Sanemi apologized as Nezuko put her head on his lap and smiled.

Sanemi couldn't get angry with them, he wasn't capable after all, they were like his children now. 'Hmmm, why are you lying? I can smell that you are sad and angry. Has something happened?'

'No. Stop getting into my life Kamado', oh oh, I think Sanemi forgot that Nezuko can't stand it when someone talks bad to her older brother.

Sanemi still doesn't understand how, but Nezuko quickly started digging hard into his armpits. 'Don't talk like that about my brother!'

'Nezuko! Be careful! Shinazugawa can-', nope, Nezuko was going to accept the risks, but Sanemi was going to regret it, he would regret it

'Kahamahado gihirl! Why ahare yohou dohoing thahat?!'

'You treated my oni-chan badly! I'm not going to allow it! Tanjiro! Help me!', well, in that situation anyone would have doubted how Tanjiro could get his way as he could receive Sanemi's revenge.

But for his sister, Tanjiro accepts any risk and with a smile he sat behind Sanemi, finding a sweet spot that Tomioka had always told him about. 'KAHAHAMAHAHADO!! WHAHAHAT?! HOHOW?! GEHEHET OHOHOFF!!'

'Nezuko! Here!' 'Understood!'

Sanemi would definitely kill Tomioka for revealing that point. Nobody was supposed to know! But almost everyone knew it! Almost everyone knew that the space between Sanemi's armpits and ribs was a place that would make him scream and make him roll on the floor like a child.

However, he wasn't going to be able to do it, he wasn't planning on showing that childish side to both of them! It was humiliating!

'Hahaha! Shinazugawa-San! You... Are you rolling on the floor?'

'SHUHUHUT UHUHUP!! STAHAHAP!! YOHOU'RE GOHONNA REGREHEHET IHIHIT!! WHAHAHAT!? NOHOHO!! NEHEZUHUKO!! NOHOT THEHERE!', looks like Nezuko found another sweet spot hehehe.

Don't worry, Sanemi didn't get tickled for a long time, they both knew they had to stop when Sanemi started hiccuping and snorting.

'Nohohot a sihihingle word ahabohohut thihis...To anyohone...', they both laughed but promised that this would only remain between the 3 of them.

Mission accomplished! They had managed to make Sanemi's bad mood go away!

Now, next mission: Escape from Shinazugawa!

'And where do you think you're going?!', ehh, I think they couldn't accomplish that mission.

Sanemi quickly stood up and sat both brothers on his lap, tickling Tanjiro in his armpits and Nezuko in her waist.

'NOHOHO!! SAHAHENEHEMI-SAHAHAN!! NOHOT THERE!!' 'Ehehehe! Nohoho! Wahahait!! Eahahaha!!'

'You tickled me together! Now work together to free yourself!', well, let's hope that them manage to free yourself or that someone comes to their rescue

[ryuichirou]

I'm kinda starving for Kalijami content right now so I hope you'll indulge me

Got any headcannons for flirty!Kalim that's 100% Jamil sexual but with oblivious!Jamil. Like here is a version of Kalim that could probably charm anyone he wants into relationship or in bed but Jamil is just like "Yes, this is completely platonic" all the while acting like wife material. Kalim is suffering from thirst and its lowkey become everyone's problem cause they're suffering from secondhand tension.

I won't deny any spicier headcannons either too if you have them 🤭

Anon! I’m very happy you’re enjoying our headcanons, and I feel like your idea has potential, so I’ll give you some headcanons. Even though, like in my previous KaliJami post, they’re probably not as nicely aligned with your idea and wishes as you wanted to. So I’m sorry for that.

But I’ll be honest: it’s a bit difficult for me to write KaliJami posts these days. Not because we stopped liking them: we still love the ship very much and I would still love to draw them more often. But it’s been a while since we’ve read anything featuring these characters (we’re focusing on other stuff right now) and my “feel” of them is worse now + they are far from being our main ship, so we naturally don’t have as many ideas for them as for others.

So what I’m saying is that I hope you or any other person won’t get upset if I don’t reply to your KaliJami ask in the future. I don’t want to give you a half-assed reply, and a lot of time I just don’t have anything to say or add, so it wouldn’t be much of a reply anyway. That being said, we really appreciate the love our KaliJami posts are getting, so thank you again.

Alright, the headcanons.

Kalim is genuinely confused about their situation. Jamil doesn’t get or notice something? That never happens. He kind of thinks that Jamil is ignoring his advances on purpose sometimes, but he is conflicted about it… What if Jamil really just doesn’t know? I guess it means that Kalim should keep flirting with him. (People around them are 1000% sure that Jamil is avoiding Kalim’s obvious flirting on purpose. There is no way it isn’t intentional)

Kalim is going to confess his feelings to Jamil but in a bizarre turn of events that wouldn’t work either, because Jamil would still tell himself that it is either platonic or Kalim is lying to himself/confused about his own feelings. Simply because Jamil doesn’t want to deal with Kalim having romantic feelings towards him, so it’s easier to just think he’s goofing around.

Their main problem is that a lot of things that Kalim does as flirting is something that he also does to all of people in a friendly way, so it makes it easier for Jamil to either assume or assure himself that he is just being friendly. For example, magic carpet rides, dances, a lot of touches, long stares in Jamil’s eyes… One time Kalim would spontaneously take Jamil on a date, take him to some extremely beautiful place with nice smelling flowers and pretty lights and romantic/intimate atmosphere, hug him, touch him, get reeeeal clingy… and Jamil would STILL think that he is just goofing around and trying to avoid doing homework or something. Let’s get back already, Kalim. (at this point he’s just in denial)

Kalim would insist on sleeping in Jamil’s bed, Jamil’s first reaction would be annoyed “are you having nightmares?”. It’s almost like Kalim is mentally a toddler in his mind… But when Kalim makes his move and starts kissing and touching Jamil this time, I feel like he wouldn’t be able to lie to himself anymore. They would end up having sex, because despite Jamil being/acting oblivious, the tension between them is quite strong. So once Kalim takes Jamil’s clothes off, starts kissing his neck, his ears, touching his hips and spreading his legs, it’d be an “oh” moment.

…luckily for Jamil, he would tell himself a different lie this time: Kalim is a hormonal horny spoiled stubborn rich kid that always gets what he wants. So of course he would want to also have Jamil. Doesn’t mean any of it is romantic..right?

[felixravinstills]

re: last one

hi abyssal! i'm back like a lying liar because that was not the last of me yapping about allegory of the cave. anyway, about this bit-

It will not remember that often times he was the man standing beside me at parties, unsure and searching for the right opening, or the slight nod he gave me as he left, having found an in to a conversation. I have never written down how much that nod means to me. I could never write it down properly. 

-do you have any more felix & florus thoughts? what their dynamic was like (since they don't seem to be friends exactly but also seem to be more than acquaintances)?

Yay! No, I love answering questions! You're always welcome! I guess this goes without saying, but this is obviously all my headcanon. Thanks for the ask! Also this got longer than I expected!

All the mentors (for the most part) are at the minimum some form of school friends or at least friendly acquaintances (Felix-Livia and Coriolanus-Livia being the notable exceptions I can think of off the top of my head. Urban Canville is probably disliked by many of the others as well). I think that there's some affection between all of them from just growing up in the same circles and as these are top performing Academy students, likely seeing each other in the same honors classes and functions.

Working off that baseline, I don't think the Friend family is quite on the same level in terms of influence and wealth as the Ravinstills, Heavensbees, or the more prestigious families of the Academy.

Felix is more comfortable interacting with people whose families are closer to his in status or with people who seem more honest with their intentions/emotions. Florus doesn't really fall into either category in my mind (Florus trying to fit in would not put him in the latter). (I think lowkey a thing I have going on with Felix is that before he comes into his own the idea of who he should be as a Ravinstill gets in the way of him making personal connections, so this continues to be an extension of that in a way.)

When Felix and Florus could have become closer (during the Academy), I think they were preoccupied with their own internal issues which are both kind of similar. They both felt kind of overlooked in their families (in Felix's case, this is a result of miscommunication while in Florus' case, this is more actually the case). They aren't really thinking too hard about that other guy who has similar interests to them. Felix enjoyed history, although I think he fell into the traps of getting swept up into narratives rather than peeling back the curtain of how these historical narratives are formed like Florus would. To be fair, I think Florus fell into that trap when he was younger too. Unfortunately, at worst, they might have felt that their interests were too similar. There might have tried to avoid each other because of that (self-conscious about being replaced).

Still, I think that they probably would have gotten on well if they had interacted more/gave themselves a chance to become closer, and I think Florus would recognize that in the later years. In hindsight, he says that they could have been friends, maybe even good friends, and I think it compounds the guilt he has due to his indirect involvement with Felix's death.

In the end, their small kind of nod of kinship at parties, to me, was meant to amplify that idea that small things cause ripples, like Florus giving the list that eventually led to Myrtilus Carnes killing Felix but in kind of an opposite way? Like Florus' action has a describable impact. Felix's nod means a lot to Florus (some form of comfort. "you are not alone") but it isn't really something you can explain. (it's a small gesture that means a lot personally but to an outsider is just... nothing). Again, the things that history cannot truly capture in my opinion (the personal).

(if you look closely, my brain getting inexplicably scrambled by Felix Ravinstill makes it's way into my characterization of Felix's relationship with others... Sometimes, a near-stranger impacts you a lot, and you just have to deal with that. The amount of times that Felix is important primarily through a love and importance assigned to him by another person... Haha. Wonder what's up with that?)

[renaiswriting]

Baci di Luna (part 5)

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol/Reader

Summary:

Saying I love you was never easy.

Having to say it in a language that wasn't yours was not easy either.

Imagine the struggle of that, and now add it to loving someone whose family thinks you're a monster.

It can't be easy at all.

Word count: +4.1k

Warnings: Mentions of death, mentions of burning. (I think that's all.)

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Taglist: @sahhmochi @darkdayelixer @hipsdofangirl @ryusha-rose

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•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

"Noah, stop it already!"

 

Noah had been banging on the bathroom door for several minutes already, hurrying you to let him into the bathroom so he could take a bath, but you knew that more out of haste to perform some personal hygiene (because Noah had never been much of a baths' lover, no matter how short they were), he was looking for excuses to distract you from meeting Seungcheol.

 

Your younger brother was jealous, and although you would have usually found him adorable, he was starting to wear on your patience a bit.

 

"If you keep banging the door, I'll tell mom." You warned him. And this seemed to be somehow effective, because the banging on the door stopped for some time.

 

You tried your best to dry your hair with your towel, but it was still kind of wet.

 

You had put it on a high ponytail and your favorite pink lipstick.

 

"All yours." You told Noah once you stepped out of the bathroom, giving him a questionable look when you found him lying down on the floor.

Your mom was on the couch, knitting a new scarf for Arianna since she had lost hers in the move and had already made the whole house crazy by constantly wearing her scarves.

Your mom looked at you twice, the first had been a distracted glance while the second scanned you up and down, her brow furrowed.

"Dove vai vestito così?"

Until those moments you had avoided mentioning to him the plan to go out with Seungcheol because of this very questioning.

Your father, who had been more focused on taking inventory of the raw materials to make the various delicacies sold at the bakery, also looked up, one of his eyebrows raised. "Yeah, where are you supposed to go all dolled up like that? You're not supposed to work at the bakery today."

"I'm going to meet Seungcheol." You explained, trying to avoid sounding nervous, you didn't want them to suspect you liked the poor boy or anything, it would be all very awkward if Seungcheol came back to the bakery after that. Your father had always been known in the family for making jokes and hinting at the boyfriends and girlfriends his sons had had so far. He shrugged it off with a shrug of his shoulders. There was nothing to hide. You were going to get together with a friend. "You've already met him."

"Chi è Seungcheol? Non lo ricordo." Your mother asked , and you couldn't believe how she didn't remember Seungcheol considering how many times he had been to the bakery.

"Yes, I don't remember any Seungcheol either." Your father nodded his head, agreeing with his wife.

"He's tall, dark hair, big round eyes..."

"Quello del cornetto? Va bene, puoi andare ma porta Arianna con te."

You guessed that by now the Cornet boy had officially acquired the nickname Seungcheol.

 

"No! I can't bring Arianna with me; he's my friend. I want to be able to talk about things with him, but Arianna will get bored. Please, Dad?"

 

Your father looked conflicted. "I don't know. What do you say?" he asked his wife directly. "(Y/n) is old enough not to need a chaperone, don't you think? Maybe we should trust her with this."

"Dove vi incontrate allora?"

 

"I don't know, we were just going to walk for a while; we didn't agree to go to a specific place."

 

"Va bene, ma torna a casa prima delle sette." Your mother agreed, her index finger pointing at you. And that was more than enough time, it was almost four and you weren't even sure you would have something to talk about for more than an hour.

And that was more than enough time; it was almost four, and you weren't even sure you would have something to talk about for more than an hour.

 

"Where are you going?" Arianna asked, entering the room where you were all wearing her pajamas, shorts, and barefoot. Her eyes looked over your figure, stopping when she realized something. "Those are my earrings! Take them off; I was planning to wear them today."

 

"Sure thing, it absolutely goes well with your outfit." You replied, rolling your eyes but taking them off anyway, giving them back to her before finding some others to use instead.

 

One of your parents must have told her what your plans were for that day because Arianna walked into your shared bedroom whining. "I wanna go too!"

 

"Well, next time, maybe. I told Seungcheol it would be just the two of us today; I really want to make new friends here."

 

"If he's going to be your friend, then he has to get used to your family." She pointed it out, throwing herself on her bed, her legs resting against the cold wall. She had started doing this after and before every meal for some reason; apparently it was good for digestion or something like that.

 

"Well, yeah, but it would be rude to just show up there if he wasn't being told in advance. Why do you suddenly want to meet with him anyway? Does my little sister have a crush that I haven't caught on to?"

 

Arianna rolled her eyes and said, "None of that. But if you're going to where we went last time, I want to go there; they gave us food. It was delicious; I still want to punch myself because we didn't bring more."

You pick up your biggest pillow and throw it at her face, taking her by surprise. "Yah! That was not nice!"

"Be grateful for what they gave us; it was a nice thing for them to do. Don't act like a brat"

Ever since that night you went to Seungcheol and his friends' house, both you and Arianna had made a silent pact to never speak about it in front of any other member of your family unless you were looking for a punishment.

"And I don't think we're going there; we're probably just going to go on a walk or something like that, and I'll come back home. Next time, we can bring Noah to the lake and invite Seungcheol if you want."

"Sure," Arianna said, "bring Seungcheol for yourself and make me babysit Noah; at least bring someone of my interest too, would you?"

You raised your right eyebrow in her direction, looking at her with an expression that said, "I caught you lying to me."

 

"Like who?" You asked her, reaching for the ring your mom had given you to protect you.

 

"I don't know; the shorter one was pretty cute." Arianna replied with a shrug. Her hand was playing with her own hair, braiding it.

 

"And probably too old for you; why don't you try looking for some guy your age in town? I'm sure the butcher's son is a nice boy, and if you go out with him, we might get a good discount on fish." You joked.

 

"But I don't like him." Arianna protested.

 

"Well, then ask mom to introduce you to some of her friends' sons; I bet she would be thrilled."

 

Arianna complained a little bit more, but you ignored it as you made your way to the door, where someone was knocking.

Seungcheol was standing in front of the door, both of his hands in his pants pockets, and his feet were moving back and forth, resting all his weight on one foot at a time.

He was biting his lower lip, and when you opened the door, he looked like he was about to fix his hair.

 

"Hello," Seungcheol sighed with a small smile. His eyes traveled to how you were dressed that day before returning to your eyes. "You look really nice today."

 

"Thanks!" You replied with a big smile, looking over your shoulder when you heard footsteps coming your way. "We should probably get going before my brother finds a way to tag along."

 

Seungcheol's eyes moved behind your figure, and you realized a little bit too late that Noah had made his way to the front door before you could fly away. "If he wants to come, he can." Seungcheol whispered to you, sending you a reassuring smile.

 

"It's okay; he can come next time."

 

Seungcheol nodded. "One of our youngest probably might enjoy his company; he would love to have someone to play with."

 

You closed the door behind you as you both started walking. The day was pretty sunny, and it was really warm.

There was a gentle breeze that was caressing your skin and moving your hair gently out of your face.

 

"Oh no, just one sibling interested in your friends is enough." You joked, and just when you thought this would be just a comment to fill the silence, it seemed to catch Seungcheol's attention.

 

"Who's attention did my friends catch?" He asked with a teasing grin.

 

"My sister's; she swears she doesn't like them like that, but I'm pretty sure she would become as silent as a mouth if she's around them again."

Seungcheol laughed loudly, shaking his head. He looked quite relaxed, and his calmness was contagious, because suddenly all the nervousness you had felt while preparing was gone.

The path began to become more familiar as Seungcheol turned near Loco Thud's butcher shop. A large green wall opened up, leaving you in awe with each step you took closer to the forest.

 

No matter how much you saw it, the forest was still so beautiful that it seemed unreal.

 

"Where are we going?" you asked curiously, pausing for a few moments to watch a butterfly fly a short distance from your face.

 

"Are you hungry? I was thinking we could have a little picnic near the lake."

 

It hadn't been until that instant that you noticed the large backpack Seungcheol was carrying on his shoulders.

 

"I'm starving." You replied happily, touching your belly in anticipation of the food. "But you should have told me in advance; I would have brought some pastries from the bakery."

 

"No, it's on me. It was my idea. I managed to make Mingyu and Joshua bake these, though. So I bet they would taste delicious—probably not as good as the pastries your family sells, but I promise these will be good. I have tried them before."

"Trust me, I'm so hungry I could eat rocks." You joked.

 

Seungcheol made you walk to the spot where you both met each other the last time. There was a nice baby blue blanket on the floor and two tiny baby yellow pillows.

 

"When did you prepare this?" You asked, and it looked really pretty with the noise of the water running right next to your spot. The blanket was soft, and the pillow felt good under you.

 

"I bring these before going to your house. I wanted to ask Jeonghan and Joshua to help me, but they were busy. I got to steal Jeonghan's blanket though, so let's try to not demage it with food." He nervously laughed.

 

"No problem." You reassured him, stretching your legs and taking a deep breath of the fresh air.

 

Seungcheol opened his backpack, taking out from inside some orange juice, two cups, and a bunch of pastries. You couldn't help yourself but take a bite of one of the big, thin chocolate cookies; they were as big as your face.

Your eyes widened in amazement as a chocolate sparkle invaded your taste buds. The dough was so sweet, you felt like you could shiver with happiness.

 

Your hand scooped out some crumbs that had landed on your chin and clothes, covering your mouth as you continued to munch on the cookie. "It's so good!"

 

Seungcheol took a cookie identical to yours, devouring it in seconds. He nodded his head in approval, copying your hand position by hiding his own mouth behind it.

 

"These are Mingyu's; I always ask him to make this for my birthday because of how tasty they are."

 

"What did you promise him in exchange for these?" You asked him, laughing, "My siblings would make me pay them or do their chores for a whole month if I asked them to bake cookies for me."

Seungcheol laughed nervously. He had no idea how to tell you that he had promised Mingyu that he would take his nightly rounds if Mingyu accepted to bake stuff for his little date with you.

 

"I said I would do his laundry for a month." He replied instead. "Joshua was nicer; he asked me to do his bed instead for a week."

 

"You're the older one, aren't you?" You asked, nodding alongside Seungcheol when he confirmed it. "That's the blessing and the curse of the oldest; we can order around the house, but once they start growing up, they stop doing what we ask for if it isn't exchanged for a favor later." You laughed.

 

"Are you much older than your siblings?" Seungcheol asked and looked genuinely interested.

"Well, I'm three years older than Arianna and seven years older than Noah."

 

"You guys have such unique names," Seungcheol complimented. "I don't think I've ever heard someone with those names in town. I like them."

 

"Wait till you hear Noah's full name." You chuckled. "He's named after my mom's dying brother; apparently he asked her to name Noah after him. He's Noah Giovanni."

 

Seungcheol lay down on the blanket, his head on top of the small pillow, while his hands were comfortably crossed on his stomach.

 

"Two names? That's not usually the norm here."

 

"It isn't here. I had multiple friends and family members that had more than one name; some even had around three  names."You told him, lying down just like he was, enjoying the way the leaves on the trees were moving with the breeze, and sometimes some sunlight would make a quick appearance here and there.

Seungcheol's eyes were already on you when you turned to the side to see him more comfortably. He sent you a small smile when you both made eye contact.

"What about you? What's your other name?" Seungcheol's arm was under his face, his elbow pointing at you. He offered some orange juice that you accepted happily, sitting for some instants to take a sip of it. Your eyes moved to the water, and you were tempted to take some rocks and throw them in the water.

 

"I don't have any; the only one that has one is my brother." You mumbled, "But my mom told me once that if she could give me a second name, it would have been Isabella."

"You don't have a middle name, do you?" You asked him after some seconds of complete silence.

"No, but why don't you give me one?" He asked, moving forward to get some pancakes that he had told you beforehand had been made by Joshua. He had brought some honey, sugar, and butter to put on it.

"Me?" You asked with a chuckle. "I'm sad to inform you that my naming skills are not that good. I called a bunny pet that we had for a little bit of jumping because it jumped around a lot, and that's on my list of top-named objects and animals."

"Good thing to know that I'm not an object, then," he laughed. "Go ahead; if it's terrible, then the name would never leave this place."

"Seungcheol Oliver." You announced it proudly. It was the name of one of your childhood plushies that you sadly lost years ago in one of your family's moves to a new house.

"Oliver?" Seungcheol chuckled, nodding his head, satisfied. "Alright, I like it."

You took a bite of one of the brownies that were carefully placed on a plate, taking another sip of the orange juice. "Today's such a beautiful day." You sighed happily, closing your eyes when some breeze touched your face, moving your hair out of your face and out of your shoulders. Thankfully, it was already dry, and some of your curls have finally started to form in your wavy hair.

"I'm glad you're enjoying it." Seungcheol replied happily, and you could swear you had heard a purr coming from somewhere. "How do you say that in Italian?"

"Oggi è una bellissima giornata." You told him slowly so he could catch the pronunciation of each word. He copied the sound as closely as possible, but his tickling accent made it a little bit funny to hear. You guessed that was probably how you sounded speaking in Korean as well.

"I wish I could speak Italian as well; it sounds so beautiful." Seungcheol sighed.

"But you do speak more than one language." You encouraged him, "Don't you?"

"I understand a little bit of English because one of my brothers speaks English, and I can introduce myself in Chinese as well. I can name random objects too, like doors or water."

"Teach me how to say Hello, my name's Seungcheol. I feel bad whenever I go to your family's bakery and your mom's the one attending it because I just can't say anything to her."

"Wouldn't it be easier if I told you how to ask for what you want to buy instead? I'm pretty sure my mom will know your name by now." You told him, trying not to laugh as you remembered what had happened earlier in your house.

"One thing at a time," he told you. Instead, his eyes were looking at you with such sparkle that you felt something warm run throughout your body, making you smile without realizing it.

And so you continued the rest of the afternoon eating and talking. Seungcheol seemed to try to memorize every Italian word that came out of your mouth with great effort, and sometimes, when he thought you were distracted by throwing crumbs of homemade bread to the small fish swimming near where you were in the lake, you heard him practicing in whispers the pronunciation of those words.

 

"It's getting late," you yawned. You had no sign of trying to stand up because you really didn't want the afternoon to end.

"Do you have to go home already?" Seungcheol asked, his face not making the slightest attempt to hide the disappointment behind his face.

 

"Yes," you sighed, just as sad as Seungcheol. The afternoon had passed so quickly that you were surprised as the sun began to set to give way to night. Time seemed to have flown by in the blink of an eye, and what had left you most pleased was that you had felt so comfortable around him. "My mom will scold me if I don't come back now. This Sunday, she won't let me eat the lasagna she's been anticipating for us since last week." You smiled at him.

 

Seungcheol nodded, understanding. "I'll walk you home, then. It's getting late, and it can be quite dangerous to walk at this time alone. Come on." He was standing up, his palm facing you, as he was waiting for you to take it and stand up as well.

His skin felt a little rough to the touch; there were some calluses on it, and a cut you had just noticed was still healing. A soft layer of pinker skin covered it. It was much warmer than your icy hands, and the warmth spread through the rest of your body, especially on your rosy cheeks, as I let him hold yours firmly.

 

A hiss interrupted the moment as Seungcheol let go of your hand with a great leap backwards. The movement had been so sudden that it made you stagger, landing you on your buttocks.

 

"Cavolo!" You swallowed your cry of pain, biting your lower lip, as your hands shot up in his direction, your knees digging into Jeonghan's blanket. "Are you okay?" You asked worriedly, your voice rising a little higher than you had intended. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to touch your wound; is it bleeding? Are you in a lot of pain?"

 

You felt incredibly embarrassed and guilty about what had happened. Seungcheol had been an angel to you, and you had only returned a wound.

Seungcheol kept his hand clenched with his other hand; his knuckles had turned white from the force he was using to put pressure on the wound. The muscle in his arm was strained, and some of his veins had been marked on his wrist.

Seungcheol was bent forward, snarling slightly.

"I'm fine." He replied that his voice had become a mixture of a whisper and a growl.

"Are you sure? Let me see! God, I'm so sorry," you continued, standing up and approaching him. Seungcheol turned the other way, preventing you from seeing his palm.

"Yeah! It doesn't hurt that much; don't worry." He breathed out, his eyes were closed into two lines, and his lip was being attacked by his upper teeth.

"Well, it doesn't seem like that; don't be stubborn and let me see!" Your hand pushed Seungcheol with all your strength, attempting to turn him around, but it didn't phase him at all. "Seungcheol." You insisted.

He turned around, checking how much it hurt when he started applying less and less pressure to it.

His hand was so red you would have thought he had put it straight into the fire; his burns looked third-degree, and there were already distinct blisters around a perfect circle on the inside of it.

 

The circle was a perfect copy of your silver ring.

 

"Che cazzo?! I think you should put your hand in the water. Doesn't it burn?"

"No, no, that's it. It hardly hurts anymore; we should go back; you should be home before your mother scolds you."

Seungcheol put all the things in his backpack, biting his tongue when some things brushed against the wound on his hand. Luckily, to ease some of the guilt you felt, he allowed you to help him put it away.

Seungcheol escorted you home as promised, and before you went inside, he grabbed you by the wrist with the hand that was still intact.

"Thank you for agreeing to hang out today; I had a great time with you."

"I had a great time as well; it was really fun! I'm sorry again for hurting you." You mumbled, moving your feet and avoiding his eyes. "But I promise I'll make sure to bring some pastries the next time as an I'm sorry present."

"Next time?" Seungcheol replied with a big smile, and his fingers softly brushed away some hair that was brushing against your eyes.

"Well yeah, if you want to. But I might have to warn you; my siblings will come as well." You joked.

"I'll bring some of my friends as well, then. I bet our youngest will want to make friends."

The door suddenly opened, and a woman slightly taller than you was standing up with both of her hands on her hips, looking at you angrily.

"Dove diavolo eri? è passato il tempo in cui ti dicevo di tornare! Perché sei andato nella foresta quando ci sono state così tante voci su lupi mannari e bestie pericolose?"

You had no idea how I had discovered that you had been in the woods without one of your siblings ratting you out, but none of them knew (at least as far as you knew) where they were going to meet; not even you knew where they were going until they arrived at the picnic already arranged.

You felt a little embarrassed with your mother mentioning the supposed werewolf in front of Seungcheol, but looking at him for a few seconds, he seemed to be as lost as you were.

"Should I apologize?" Seungcheol asked you; his eyes were wide open, and suddenly his posture was perfect.

"No, I think you'd better leave. We can arrange our next friend's outing these days; come to the bakery anytime you want. I still owe you a treat as an apology."

Seungcheol said goodbye to you with a smile, and in a few minutes he was already disappearing through the forest.

The pain in his chest began to increase proportionally as he moved farther away from you.

But he tried to omit it; he had been with you for hours, and by now that should be enough for his wolf.

We'll see you the next day.

The burn on his hand still burned, and he just wanted to get home so someone could treat the wound. He had been such an idiot; he should have paid more attention to your silver accessories. Who else if he didn't want to end up dead before he confessed to you that he was a werewolf and that you were his mate?

Seungcheol came home with a contented vibration in his chest.

It had been a good day.

[guess-ill-dye]

I'm sad :(

Vent post

It has been a year since my mom gave my cat to someone.

I miss him so much

There is a Portuguese word that is a noun for when you miss someone. "saudade". You say I have saudades. It doesn't make sense in English but that's how I feel abt Simba. That's my cat's name. He's not my cat anymore. But I don't think I know anything else to call him. It was my fault. My mom was always mad I didn't clean the litterbox. I never thought she would do this. It's was a Monday. I was trying to be better and cleaned his litter box once a week, every Monday. It was cleaning the litter box day. And I didn't do it. I went home and there was no sign of him. She put him outside, in our balcony. He was there for months. It was meant to be a week. He should be here. She lied to me. It was just an excuse to get rid of him. I looked at pictures of him. I dont have a lot. I have one in the back of my phone. He looks so cute, I got his tongue sticking out in the picture. I miss him. I used to draw him. He was such a nice model. I loved drawing him. Now whenever I see a cat I see him. There are so many stray cats where I live. My neighbour got a cat. My mom bragged to her how she got rid of Simba. She is proud. No-one talks about him. It's taboo. No-one seems to care. My dad liked him. He doesn't seem to notice what day is it. I used to think about him dying one day, while he was snuggled with me in bed and I would cry. At the thought. The day he was taken away there were a ton of seagulls. All I could hear was him meowing. I wrote a poem, I drew him, just to get my head lighter. It didn't work. I never told anyone about it. Never told my friends. For all they know I still have a cat. Once my friend came to my house and she asked where my cat was. I said he was at my grandparents. I lied. I felt bad lying. I usually never do if it won't harm anyone. It did not hurt her, it was just curiosity. Still I felt bad. I try to avoid it. I don't talk about it. The first month of school after the holidays was bad. I was really sad. I sometimes just laid my head down and thought about him. My friends were nice. They never asked any questions. I didn't want to answer any questions. I talked to some people online. It helped for a while. I barely though about him and when I did it wasn't sad, it was just numb. I was sad during the night. I went on minecraft and made a creative world called Simba. I built and image of him in the ground. It was in a beautiful cherry blossom forest. I spawned tons of cats. Gave them all names. All the orange ones were Simba. I got one of the orange ones and tamed him. I built a house. Put a bed. Put him next to it. Then I went to sleep. I felt better then. I went to a psychiatrist. She said I was trying to hard to be happy and neglected my feelings. Atleast that's what I remember. I guess I am. I try not to think about Simba never. I can't do that now. I have been trying to forget everything bad that happened to me since always. I went to sleep and forgot it all. It worked. I woke up with hope everyday. But I can't forget him. He is not a bad things. His absence is. I can't forget something that is so violently not there. I tried to get help on Tumblr, before he was taken away. I deleted the post and hour later. I thought it was pointless, that it didn't make sense. I still tell people I have him. I dont even know where he is. The lady who took him had another cat. She died of cancer for what I heard. She also has another one. She sent my mom pictures of him. She sent them to me. She said he didn't miss me, that he was happier there. I wonder if she is right. I saw on the Internet cats don't do that. They remember. I wonder if he does. I asked mom to see him in the lady's house. She said maybe. That was in October. She lied. Again. When I was 7 or 8 or 9 or 10 my mom broke my favourite doll because my room was messy. I never forgave her. I never will. I miss Simba.

[wayward-aeon]

on the importance of letting go

some time ago, i was faced with the dilemma that so many otherkind and fictionkind fear: being wrong about my identity.

~450 words

it was a gradual realization. the skin i had once felt comfortable in was suddenly ill-fitting and cumbersome. subconsciously, i started to dread being called that name, or being depicted in that manner, or even being associated with things related to my supposed kintype.

i told myself it was probably just a temporary thing. that it was just self-doubt, or that everything would snap back into place next time i had a shift.

it wasn't temporary.

i think i had always been uncertain about that particular kintype. it didn't click like being aether did. it felt a bit like trying to fit a large bird into a small cage. it was secure and almost cozy at first, but the more i noticed my wings straining against the bars, the more my feathers were squished and bent at odd angles, the more it began to ache.

the first time i tried stepping foot outside, i got scared. what would it mean for me, to have been wrong all this time? what would the people around me think? would i even be able to recognize myself? could i ever be forgiven for "lying"? the pressure got to me. i hastily changed my mind and retreated.

i continued that way for several months more. i would constantly come up with excuses and justifications for feeling the way i felt, no matter how fallible. anything to cover up how glaringly obvious it was that i had been wrong.

it never got easier. the longer i tried to fit myself into that box, the more i yearned to be free of it. i did everything i could to avoid directly associating myself with my "kintype" without outright admitting anything was amiss. i became avoidant and reluctant to discuss my experiences. it definitely played a role in my decision to stop playing the game said character appears in.

it wasn't the only thing i had been shouldering at the time, and i guess one day, in the midst of many other stressors in my personal life, i finally cracked under the weight of it all. i put my foot down, and i decided, whether the world liked it or not, it was time for me to let go.

even just saying the words, i need to let go, felt so freeing. admitting not only to myself, but to the world, that i had been wrong, and that's okay. finally, i could stretch my wings and venture into the beckoning horizon. finally, i could move forward.

i'm still working on learning to fly again, but it's a journey i'm so glad to be on.

[all-pacas]

do you think it would've made a difference if chase told cameron about dibala right away? i know she said she forgives him but he did push her away for weeks... if he confesses right away does she have the reaction to blame house?

I actually think it probably would have made a difference, but I'm not sure it would have ultimately changed anything.

For a month, Chase was completely avoiding Cameron. Like, not going home, keeping away from her at work, not talking to her, and the whole time lying and making excuses. (Related: it's insane that Cameron, who usually is all up in everyone's business, just… let him do this.) He was acting suspicious as all hell and out of character generally: if nothing else, coming home stinking drunk should have probably been a red flag, as was his excessive trips to the gym and return to church. He's hitting a lot of red flags! (Again, insane that Cameron just let this happen for a month. Bad writing.)

And it isn't that Cameron doesn't notice. Isn't worried. She's trying to give him space, she knows something is wrong. She eventually lands on affair (which… I don't think should have been her first guess? Cameron isn't stupid. She knows this started right around Dibala dying.), but she's going out of her mind with worry and suspicion for weeks, that's not going to help her reaction. Chase is basically saying I do not trust you, I am willing to lie to you. That kind of sucks, actually. It sounds trite to say, but: he is not being very nice. Chase is private, but he's always been fairly upfront with Cameron, at least after their relationship started. He communicates with her! Suddenly he can't stand to talk to her. He's avoiding her. Cameron has weeks to stew on this. He's doing a terrible job pretending nothing is wrong.

I think if he'd told her right away, or told her in the worst of his ptsd reaction, she probably would have reacted with more initial understanding. He's hurt, he needs her to help him. She finally can flex her damaged person kink. She probably forces him into therapy, gets all protective of him, it's very nice. But her anger is still there. She's still not okay with murder. She's still not okay with House, and almost definitely still thinks it's House's fault, because she's sort of correct from a meta perspective and also because she does not want it to be Chase's fault, because she's not okay with murder. But for a while, Cameron can probably tamp it down and focus on Fixing. She has a Task, and she doesn't have a month of resentment and fear and worry. But it would still catch up to them, I think. Maybe it would buy them a little time, but as we see in Teamwork, it really took House five minutes and one pointed question to break it all apart.

[silent-shanin]

My Love For You Is Like A Balloon; You Deserve To Float

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Three Houses/Three Hopes (Modern au) Ship: Marianne/Hilda Rating: sfw (Also on Ao3)

"Come on, Mari...anne." She added the last part because you're not 'Mari' to her anymore. You're 'Marianne' now. Some distant habit that she's trying to stomp out, just like how you stomped on her heart after breaking up with her. "I just want to talk." 

"I don't," you lie. You do. You do. You do. You've been wondering how she's been doing these past three months. You would like nothing more than to talk. To make up, make out, make love, and have everything be alright again. To have her in your arms and hug her so tightly, your chests mush together and her body heat finally warms up your cold hands and cold heart. 

The only thing you can do is not talk lest your brain spills out of your mouth and your ugly feelings lay bare for Hilda to see. So you don't. 

She's done waiting and throws up her hands. "Ugh, stop being stubborn. You never wanted to talk and only ever listened. Do you know how annoying that always was?" She loved how you were the listener. She preferred you that way because she was the talker, the chatterbox. You are━ were perfect for each other like that.

"I guess we just don't work together." Another lie. How many more do you need to commit before the Goddess will smite you and take you out of this situation. 

Silence. Something you haven't heard a lot in your two year relationship with Hilda. And then she sighs again. 

"... I guess we don't."

And that hurt more than not seeing her for three lonely months. Now she's the one lying. Right? 

"Don't look at me like that, Marianne. What do you want me to do?" Chase you to the ends of the world. "You're the one who broke up with me." You didn't mean it. "Don't give me that kicked-puppy look." You can't help it. 

"Then," you say, because you need to talk to keep the tears at bay. Change the subject. "What did you want from me?"

The sound of Hilda's jacket indicates a shrug. "Nothing, I guess. Nothing anymore anyways." You must've looked confused as Hilda starts to explain. "I just wanted to talk. Ask you how you've been. You straight up ghosted me after you━ after we broke up." She still holds it against you. 

Should you tell her? How it's been hell. How you've finally managed to sleep one night without crying. How you want nothing more than to━ No. You don't deserve that. Not after breaking Hilda's heart and running away like some coward. You wonder if she can see it by the bags under your eyes, though those have always been there.

"And... I guess I wanted to ask why."

Why what?

"Why you dumped me. Did you really fall out of love? Was it something I said or did? I'm not asking you to take me back, but an explanation would be nice."

It wasn't any of those reasons. It wasn't Hilda. Or, well... it was in a way. It was her radiance, her happiness, her everything that you didn't━ couldn't taint. You saw how she struggled with your anxiety, with your panic attacks and your depressive episodes. She didn't understand. She couldn't understand a monster like you. You couldn't keep pulling her down with you, so instead you let her go. Like a balloon, she had to soar and go her own way. 

"I'm sorry," is instead the only thing falling out of your mouth.

She waits for more, but nothing comes out. You don't want to cry again. 

"Marianne... I'm trying. I really am, but sometimes you're just impossible. I wanted to be there for you, I still do but━" You think you hear a quiver in her voice, though you're not sure. You haven't been able to look at Hilda this whole time. You know you'll fall again if you do.

Always weak to her tears, fake or not, you never could say no to her.

"I don't know what you're thinking if you don't talk." And yet the fact that she's here makes you realize she suspects the true reason of your avoidance. "Tell me. Please?"

"I don't... want this." Is your weak excuse.

"Want what? Me?"

You shake your head and gesture at yourself.

"Oh, Mari..." There's that quiver again. She takes one step forward, hand grasping at nothing, right into your vision. You forgot how small she actually was. Her eyes meet yours by accident and...

There they are. And there you go. Falling for her as gently as the first time, as steadily as her tears. And soon your face matches hers. 

Hilda has never been a pretty crier, not when she's actually hurt. Her face scrunches up, her eyes become red, and her throat closes up so much she can't even speak. You've seen it once, when Holst ended up in the infirmary for eating bad mushrooms. You were there with her, you were the one to catch her and drive her to the hospital. You were the one who she could lean on, because she allowed herself to lean. 

And yet you still think she's the most radiant woman in your life. 

"Ma-Marianne..." she croaks. "... Can I hug you?"

Without a thought you open your arms and she falls in them immediately. You hate that she's your puzzle piece. Fit together snugly, both physically and mentally. 

You were made for each other.

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 30: Daes Dae'mar

Putting on that fancy jacket sure was a mistake, huh? Everyone knows you're up to something now. Oh you can say you're just an innocent lamb, but that's just what a scheming noble would say. Consider this post an invitation. Accept it, and I'll give you all my Wheel of Time spoilers. Decline and... I won't really be able to do anything because I have no way of knowing when someone sees this and moves on. I didn't think this through. But I guess you won't be spoiled for the whole series, so if that's your goal, that's nice.

Another rising sun chapter because we're in Cairhien. I hope these icons start getting a little more obscure soon.

The Illuminators were on everyone’s tongues in the city, even now, days after the night when they had lofted only one nightflower into the sky, and that early. A dozen different versions of the scandal were being told, discounting minor variations, but none close to the truth.

Note how distorted these tales are in comparison to the Seanchan because of how much is being deliberately kept in secrecy.

It was an effort for Rand not to sigh again. “Hurin, I’m sorry. I should not have shouted at you.”

This whole conversation is of course a microcosm of Rand's upcoming dealings with humanity as a whole and a rehearsal for when Rand gets really shitty to Hurin much, much later.

“He hasn’t done that before. Loial, do you think he was listening at the door before he knocked?”

As Loial says, Rand is starting to understand how the game is played. That said, Cuale probably was just freaking out over the senders of the invitations more than eavesdropping.

“Whatever they make of it, at least it’s the same for everybody. I am not for anyone in Cairhien, and I am not against anyone.”

You can't blame the kid for trying I suppose. But this is just the Pattern trying to teach Rand that he doesn't get to sit in holding patterns and have everything work out. He's got to move forward and act.

With most Houses, it wouldn’t matter. Even when they’re plotting against each other to the knife, they act like they aren’t, out where everybody can see. But not these two.

Again, Rand doesn't get to just wait it out. He has to make a decision.

“I won’t break the seals. That way, they will know I have not answered either one yet. As long as they are waiting to see which way I jump, maybe I can earn a few more days. Ingtar has to come soon. He has to.”

Of course, Rand really doesn't want to learn any lessons at all, so he's still kicking and screaming.

After a moment, he pulled the two invitations from his pocket and studied the seals, then stuck them back.

This chapter uses the word "seal" so much that I'm trying to find a way to tie it into the actual seals but so far I've got nothing. Rand does hang onto the unbroken seals he finds, but his hesitance in breaking those is a lot more about not being ready for the final boss fight yet than refusal to play and he doesn't really showboat with them for obvious reasons.

He avoided thinking of the way he might, just might, deal with ten Trollocs. It had not worked when he tried to help Loial, after all.

At least his denial here is based on practicality instead of just pigheadedness.

Rand thought a man, dressed in what had once been good Shienaran clothes, ducked back into the crowd at the sight of him, but he could not be sure.

Almost certainly that's exactly what Rand saw, and the news that he and Loial are so far away from the Horn spread quickly.

“It is my pleasure to do what I may,” the man said with his false smile.

The question here is, is he outright lying of his own accord because that's what he always does or is he being specifically instructed from above not to cooperate?

Moiraine, he thought bitterly. She’s still causing me trouble. Almost immediately, though, if reluctantly, he admitted that she could hardly be blamed for this. There had always been some reason to pretend to be what he was not. First keeping Hurin’s spirits up, and then trying to impress Selene. After Selene, there had not seemed to be any way out of it.

Points to Rand for having the self-awareness to admit that all Moiraine did was give him the rope to hang himself with. All things considered, many would just be angry with her and move on with their lives from there.

Thom’s nephew had lasted almost three years by channeling only when he thought he had to. If Owyn had managed to limit how often he channeled, it must be possible to not channel at all, no matter how seductive saidin was.

Well sure Rand, but you've literally just established that you have a hard time not using every available tool at your disposal so plot-convenient ultra-heroin is probably not a drug you can just take a little hit of at parties, you know?

The closer they came, the more certain it was, until they rounded the last stone-terraced corner and there was The Defender of the Dragonwall, smoke pouring out of its upper windows and flames breaking through the roof.

If Tuon were here, she'd likely explain to Rand that a military-themed inn bursting into flame was a Seanchan omen foretelling the fall of its city to the depicted enemy within the year.

She's not here, thank the Light, but that's probably what she'd say and she'd be right.

The common room hardly seemed as if the building were on fire. The double line of men stretched up the stairs, passing their buckets, and others scrambled to carry out what furniture was left, but there was no more smoke down here than if something had been burning the kitchen.

The Cairhieniens are probably pretty big on fire safety after the last invasion anyway. Without industrial pipes and hydrants to supply water for you, city fires can be downright apocalyptic.

“You cannot carry Hurin and the chest both, Rand.” The Ogier shrugged. “Besides, I won’t leave my books to burn.”

The books are obviously Loial's number one priority here but he has the decency to feel a bit guilty about that.

The banner was still in there. The banner of the Dragon. Let it burn, he thought, and an answering thought came as if he had heard Moiraine say it. Your life may depend on it. She’s still trying to use me. Your life may depend on it. Aes Sedai never lie.

Yeah this boy can't even leave behind the thing that would get him killed anywhere in the known world for possessing it. No way he's not going to be shooting up ultra-heroin every chance he gets even if his life didn't turn into an epic fantasy.

The onlookers stared at him, with his face blackened and his coat covered with smut, but he staggered to where Loial had propped Hurin against the wall of a house across the street.

I'd be staring too, who walks around with a coat covered in por-

"A small flake of soot or other dirt".

Oh. Do you know this may be literally the only time I've ever seen this word used in its non-sexy context?

Rand felt a shiver run through him. “It’s too late,” he told them. “You came too late.” And he sat down in the street and began to laugh.

It's cool Rand, nobody is going to think your acting like a crazy person is suspicious behavior AT ALL.