#i talked to the new owner earlier today about whether or not he wants to keep me on and it honest to god felt like talking to kendall roy

[tomwambsgans]

me when the store i work at gets bought by another company because we've apparently been losing 5k a month all year: oh my god just like gojo acquiring waystar

[baronessblixen]

Fictober Day 29: Cow-incidences

Prompt: "How did this happen?"

For the anon who asked: If you still have enough days left can you do a fic where somehow you can place in this quote “naming your cow Hamburger is crazy. It’s like if you named your fish Sushi.” Rating: T, wc: 964

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober24

Being attacked by a cow even once is, statistically speaking, highly unlikely. Having it happen twice? Next to impossible. And yet, here’s Mulder in a cow-related accident for the second time in as many years.

Unlike last time, the cow is fine. Mulder, however, is less so. The details are hazy and Mulder can’t verify them yet. From what the police told Scully, Mulder was in his car and a cow appeared in the road, he braked, hit his head and the cow wandered off.

It sounds as fantastical as aliens invading the earth.

But she’s his emergency contact and so here she is at the hospital by his side, waiting for him to wake up. The doctors have assured her that apart from a bad concussion, he’s fine. It could have been worse.

How often has she heard this? It could have been worse. He could have died. Mulder doesn’t just have a patient file here, they have a whole book on him. Not that her own file is much smaller.

What were you thinking? She thinks staring at him. They put a bandage around his forehead where he hit his head on the steering wheel. At least – and the lesion on his chest proves it – he was wearing his seat belt. How many head injuries can he sustain until his brain shuts off? A concussion is nothing to worry about – usually.

With Mulder’s history and the still fairly recent head surgery earlier this year, she can’t help but worry. But that’s nothing new, is it? She always worries about Mulder. It never mattered if she knew him a day, a year, or almost a whole decade. Whether he’s her partner, her friend, or her almost lover, her heart will miss a beat every time he’s hurt.

“How did this happen?” she murmurs, touching the bandage on his head. “Can you wake up, please, and tell me?” She smiles, thinking about Mulder reiterating his story, making it sound like fun and not like a life-or-death situation. He’s good at that.

“Hmm?” His eyes are still closed, but she sees them flutter and her heart does the same.

“Mulder?” she asks, waiting for him to fully wake up.

“Where are we?” he rasps and she pours him a glass of water, waiting for him to be awake enough to help him have a sip. His eyes are small and his pupils dilated. She should have checked what medication they’ve given him.

“Hospital,” she says. “You had an accident.” He nods and winces, the slight movement seemingly too painful.

“Do you remember what happened?” She doesn’t want to pressure him; she just wants to know how much damage the concussion has caused.

“Cow,” he says. “There was a… cow.”

“A cow. Are you sure?”

“Naming your cow Hamburger is crazy. It’s like if you named your fish Sushi. Scully, should I name my fish sushi?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s worse than she thought. He’s confused – very much so.

“That cow.” He looks at her and she can barely see the green of his eyes because his pupils are that big. That leaves only one conclusion: he’s as high as a kite. No wonder he’s talking about cows named Hamburger.

“What about that cow?” she asks softly.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he says, leaning closer to her. “I think- I think her owner wanted that cow to murder me. No. No, wait. He wanted me to kill the cow. Why else would you name your cow Hamburger? That poor creature. Remember the cow in Kroner, Scully? Do you think I’m cursed?”

“You’re not cursed,” she assures him, smoothing his hair. The way he looks up at her breaks her heart. She wishes she knew what was going on in that head of his. All she can do is hope that it won’t last long. That he’ll wake up later today or tomorrow and that his mind is clear.

“I killed two cows, Scully.”

“You didn’t. The cow is fine.”

“Hamburger is fine?” His face lights up. Scully doesn’t know why he thinks Hamburger is the cow’s name, but she nods slowly, smiling at him. Once this is over, and he is back to normal, they will need to discuss what happened. And why he was driving a country road all on his own in the middle of the night. There’s time for that later.

“This could have ended badly.” The words tumble from her mouth, the last few hours catching up with her.

“No hamburger for a while,” Mulder says. She feels tears prick her eyes; she wants her Mulder. She wants him to smile at her, and say it’s all right. He just stares blankly at her as though he weren’t there.

“No hamburger for a while,” she agrees, trying to make the situation lighter. “Why don’t you sleep a bit more, hm? You have a concussion.”

“Headache, yeah.” He closes his eyes, only to pop them open again after a few minutes. It could be wishful thinking, but she thinks they look clearer already; the dark clouds moving away, making way for his brilliant mind to shine through.

“Will you stay?” he asks, his voice deep and gravelly.

“Of course I’ll stay,” she assures him, taking his hand in hers. “I’ll be here when you wake up again.”

“Love you, Scully. If I know one thing, it’s that.” He closes his eyes again and in no time at all, his breath has evened out. She allows a few tears to fall, never letting go of his hand. His declaration is loud in her mind, playing like a favorite record.

“Love you, too,” she whispers, wondering if one day they’ll finally say these words when neither of them is lying in a hospital bed.

[akehoshimystar]

Chapter 5

The moment Kuchiki Yuuto's name was mentioned, Aizawa-kun immediately responded to Mika-san's eye contact.

Shinobu: Sorry, Akke. Let me talk to Shizuka-san.

Takeru: Maro-kun is there too... Yeah, you must have heard the cry. He’s probably happy to hear Tohru-chan's voice. He could tell even through the phone.

Shinobu: Seems like Kuchiki looked up Tohru-san's new residence and contact information from somewhere, and he called to say he was near the apartment... Is he coming alone?

Takeru: Is it just Kuchiki? .….”I brought my friends along so they could watch Maro until the discussion is over" ... Right….

I'm impressed that he's so petty. I want to cut him down so bad.

Shinobu: An unknown number of people are accompanying him. If he said they’re waiting with Maro-kun, my best guess is that they’re in a car.

Did you check the camera footage on the veranda...? That’s our boss.

Takeru: We’re checking the situation now, so please don't go out onto the balcony, just stay inside. Leave the curtains and windows as they are.

It’s still unsure if he knows your room number yet, so of course I won't hang up. I'll even stay with you until the morning. Shall we have a toast?

Ito: (.….Amazing. There's no waste in the conversation at all.)

(That's just how urgent this situation is.)

Ito: I'll be right back.

Shinobu: ……? Sure.

Takeru: ……..?

Takeru: …..Okay, let me hang up for now. I'll floor it and get there in no time, while driving safely of course.

Alright. See you.

Now what’s the plan?

Shinobu: Once we secure transportation, we will go pick up Gucchi in Shinjuku and rush to the scene together. Mika-nee will go ahead on motorbike as mentioned earlier...

Takeru: Oh, you're back. Where were you?

Ito: Sorry for acting on my own. In any case, I thought it'd be better to have some kind of transportation...

So I called Kise-san to check whether we could use the company car.

Takeru & Shinobu: !

Ito: If nothing went wrong, it should be at the dormitory parking lot right now. We can use it however we like tonight

Shinobu: We’ve just decided to go to the scene, and here I was about to contact Yuzuru-san...!

Ito: Oh, that's good to hear. I'll go get the key right away.

Takeru: By the way, Ito, can you drive?

Ito: Yes, I can.

Takeru: Awesome.

We parted way with Mika-san and hurried off to the dorm. When we turned the last corner, just as Kise-san said, I saw a car that wasn’t there this morning parked there. And then….

Shinobu: ………………Ah. He's already there.

Shizuka-san!

A man was typing something on an open laptop on the car hood before turning towards us.

Ito: (That person must be the Dept. Head Fushimi...)

Shinobu: Sorry to keep you waiting.

Shizuka: I didn't wait that long.

Ito: Hello.

Shizuka: Hello. Yashiro-san... Can I just call you Yashiro?

Sorry for making the acting owner drive.

Ito: Don’t mention it. By the way, I can only drive normally...

Shizuka: As long as it’s not scarily ridiculous driving, I don’t mind.

Ito: (Obviously!)

Well, let me change my shoes at least. Excuse me for a moment.

Shizuka: Sorry for saying this, but I have a request. I want you to change your clothes as well.

Ito: ! Yes.

Shizuka: Do you have any jeans other than skinny ones? Something that isn't as feminine as possible.

I'll lend you a hoodie, so just wear whatever top you want.

Ito: Y-Yes... I do have one. Understood.

Shizuka: ……

Shinobu: Shizuka-san, I’ll take a backseat.

Shizuka: Go ahead.

Shinobu: ……………Since you made Yashiro-san change her clothes, does that mean you're planning on having her move as well?

Shizuka: I’m not letting Yashiro out of the car. But, just in case.

Shinobu: Oh, I see. That's good to hear.

Shizuka: Even if the chance is slim, it would be bad if we damaged someone we borrowed. Not that I'm replacing her, but I'll probably move today.

Shinobu: Eh!? Are you serious? Why don't you ask someone to help instead?

Shizuka: None of the ST Dept. is available today. Even if I asked someone who could move right away, they would end up being "borrowed" anyway.

We can’t let Yashiro get hurt, but it's okay for the other staff…. Both I and Kosaka don’t think that way at all.

Shinobu: ……

Shizuka: The only people I can force to do anything reckless at my discretion are myself and you guys.

Shinobu: ...Got it.

But I don't want to pick up Shizuka-san's bones, so please come up with a plan that doesn't involve your self-sacrifice.

Shizuka: Don't worry, I won't do anything inefficient. By the way, I'm the one who'll be picking the bones up.

Shinobu: So we’re the skeletons here.

Shizuka: Not yours, theirs. If you try to put your life at risk without permission, I'll kill you…. socially.

Shinobu: Scaryyyy. It's okay, we know!

At least, I only sacrifice myself when I'm told to.

Shizuka: Well, aren’t you a loyal dog?

Shinobu: How about I give you a paw?

Shizuka: No thanks.

Shinobu: Nyahaha.

Well, I understand where you’re coming from, but please continue to come up with a plan that won't make Shizuka-san do anything reckless.

Shizuka: I'll see what I can do.

Shinobu: Please do so.

Gucchi and Mika-nee may not say it out loud, but I think they both feel the same way about not wanting Shizuka-san to move on his own.

Shizuka: …………I know even without you telling me.

Chapter 6

[bigshot]

Okay, I'm feeling brave and that means it's time for a brand new permanent starter call!! Isola muses only, please!

In addition to this more traditional ad, I set up a google form for if you want to get more specific than just liking the post! I just really like the idea, ok? (it's been edited slightly since earlier today to fix a mistake I made, I meant for everything to accept multiple answers)

Anyway, liking this post means that it's okay if I:

Like your rp ads

Send you memes & asks

Respond to those memes / turn them into threads

Maybe toss a random starter your way (with heads up, of course!)

BUT WAIT!! THERE'S MORE!!

FRIENDS & ALLIES ☎️ Spamton craves the attention or company of others, he's really an incredibly lonely little guy! Anyone who shows him genuine kindness is already well on their way to being considered a friend of his, but it can take time for him to trust it as the genuine article. He's been abandoned before, so expect a little a little bit of clinging! Being his friend saves you the hassle of nearly every conversation being a sales pitch and nets you a very energetic little pal for whatever hijinks you wanna get up to!

REPEAT CUSTOMERS ☎️ Spamton has a serious knack for finding what people really want to buy, but you have to tell him! He's always been terrible at the whole guessing part of the algorithms. Whether you want something totally mundane, a specific kind of job done, or something that's a little far from being legal, he's generally willing to find or do it for the right price! Hell, he'd even let you kick his ass for enough money. Just be careful if you're looking to befriend him, too... he might just think you're using him to get a good/safe deal.

PEERS & COWORKERS ☎️ And this can go in reverse, of course! If you're willing to put in the work, Spamton has a shady pawning business running in the background and he's always looking for contacts, gophers, or general help and he's willing to pay some fair wages! Additionally, if you're a business owner, he'd love to talk about work or numbers or even set up some kind of partnership if you've got the need for anything from fencing & laundering to getting rid of excess stock.

ENEMIES & RIVALS ☎️ With a temper as short as he is has, it's easy to set him off in new and explosive ways! He's a fun person to mess with if you're the teasing or bullying sort and capable of throwing down if a scrap is what you're after, just don't expect him to play nicely. But go too far and he won't have any qualms about going after a life, he knows death doesn't matter here!

ANGELS & RELIGIOUS FIGURES ☎️ Spamton has an... interesting relationship with religion. I believe he follows something akin to what the Lightners do in Deltarune, which I guess I'll call Angelism since it hasn't been given a name that I know of, and has a sort of reluctant reverence in regards to those same Lightners and the sun. He's... his own thing? Whatever he's worshiping, it has enough of the same aesthetics that he'd feel comfortable visiting any similar churches. Even though he did try becoming a God/Angel once. Catch him on Sundays offering prayers to The Angel!

Speaking of, if your muse is an Angel... well, good luck getting him to see them as anything other than near-gods... or call them by name, really. But he'll still talk to and treat them normally, given that he at least understands that they're not his Angels, especially if they don't throw their Angelic weight around. Expect reverence towards the humble or friendly and deep conversations or straight up arguments for the more intense or righteous. He's half hoping for favors or social status, but friendship isnt out of the question

ROMANTIC INTERESTS ☎️ ..... good luck?

[pocketstoriesstore]

Hey there. Sorry for my choice of words, I’m from BR and I love to write, but I write in Portuguese 🤭 this time I decided to do different so here we are. I hope you like this piece of story.

More coming soon.

————————————🫀—————————————

“SOUNDS FAIR”

Part I.

You're counting the minutes to finish the activities at the bar where you've been working the last few days.

You decided to accept the job just to be able to spend some time with your best friend since you arrived in her city to visit and, to be honest, you also needed to reset your thoughts and inspirations , after working for six years with different types of art.

Maybe it's true what they say about hard work being good for the mind, because the two of you spend the hole time laughing your asses off under your hands and behind the pillars so your customers don't feel uncomfortable with your inside jokes- and whining.

You both complain more than anything, but in your case it's not always a joke.

In fact, exaggerated jokes and lamentations helps you to get rid of memories from a past that you don't want to remember so soon, at least while you can't be strong enough to face it.

But that Tuesday promised more than any of the eight days of staying at Eliz's house.

Almost eleven o’clock. You two were ready to leave work a little earlier, so you decided to spend the last minutes smoking in the back of the bar (hidden from Eliz's father, who abhorred cigarettes although he also sells them to the costumers), complaining about the loneliness of the lack of a new love in your very difficult lives of endless work.

Elizabeth:“Could it be that it was easier to be a hooker than a bartender? “

You laughed out loud at the question.

You:”At least hookers are never alone."

E: "You see: they have sex, they are never alone and they parade around much prettier than the two of us, who smell like cigarettes and beer"

y:”Elizabeth, for god's sake!"

E:”Look at our hair! We need help!"

Y: “Any help is welcome. Anything, seriously, I’ll die one of this days, you’ll see.”

While you put out your cigarette and get ready to make your way to the bar again to take your bag, a motorcycle whose model you merely know as a road passes by you slowly, but you can't see the face of the blond rider. He seemed to be looking for a place to park among so many other motorcycles.

You strain to see his face without looking like an obvious idiot, and hope he's a bar costumer.

Well, he stops where you want. He looks around, so you can see his face. What a godamn face! You feel almost angry.

For a second he seemed to glance at you, but that would be too much for your sick mind. That was too fast, did he see you? You don’t know, but you saw him.

Goal.

E:”Oh, this guy is such a dream! They say he works for the police, but he doesn't talk to anyone so I don’t know. Once I asked my father about him and his name, but he told me that he was only sure that he would like me having all this interest in keeping the family business on tracks.”

You laugh.

E: Seriously, I've already made myself look ridiculous twice trying to get his attention, spent three therapy sessions confused as to whether I felt rejected or whether he really exists.

Elizabeth talks a lot, but that time you WANTED to hear a lot.

E: He literally didn’t look me in the face. NEVER. He always orders whiskey, reads some messages on the phone, checks his watch all the time, looks around as if he’s waiting for someone, and only talks to my father and Sebastian, the waiter who replaces us when we leave earlier. He smells so good! His helmet sits at my dad's feet at the till because my dad is afraid I'm going to grab it and give it back to the owner just to try to talk to him, cause I did that once but he just said "thank you". I hate him.

You laugh even more.

Y: He hated you first, he deserves all your hate, baby. And you know what? Today I’ll give back the helmet to him. After pouring him his whiskey, of course.

E: No way! Please avenge me! I'll pay you fifty dollars if you do this! My God, I feel hysterical, I'm going to die laughing!

Y: Well, let's find out his name, too. If you want to know his age, marital status, even if he is a police officer as they say, increase the value to one hundred dollars and I’ll give it all to you.

You live her at the corner of the bar door, laughing as she watches.

You get inside the bar at the same pace you usually work at, take the bottle of whiskey and pour it into the glass while chasing him around. But you don't see him.

you feel the frustration filling your lungs, because you made huge plans in a few seconds and even less meters away. You already wanted all that so much. Why? Was all that loneliness? What a ridiculous situation.

At least you tried to keep that little heartbeat you felt a few minutes ago.

With your melted face and the eternal seconds passing you by, you felt even more anxious, quitting the hole day like you've paid your karma for betting someone's personal informations for a few dollars.

Y:” Okay, that’s why I never play games.”

You rip off your apron, swallows all the whiskey from the glass at once, lights another cigarette with the bar lighter - because even your own lighter was gone, and goes towards the door, feeling your throat still burning with whiskey.

Suddenly he comes in and your heart stops.

He puts out his cigarette, takes your lighter out of his pocket, holds it out to give it back to you and says, in the lowest and calmest voice as it’s possible, with a hint of laughter:

"A hundred dollars, huh? Sounds fair. Name’s Leon."

[graciousdragon]

The time I wrote gay fanfiction for an English project and got an A

I saw a video earlier today that reminded me of something that happened to me a few years ago, and I figured now was as good a time as any to share it. I know this is the fake story website but please trust me when I say that this is an entirely true story. This title is also 100% accurate, surprisingly, so let me elaborate

This happened when I was in 8th grade, which for context was about 4 years ago when I’m writing this. One of the books we were assigned to read in my English class that year was The Call of the Wild by Jack London. For a brief summary if you weren’t forced to read it (or you were and you forgot what it was about, which is understandable), the book is about this Saint Bernard named Buck who lives a cushy life with his wealthy owner until he is kidnapped and sold off to be a sled dog during the gold rush, where he learns to obey the humans and follow his primal instincts, eventually becoming the leader of the sled dog pack and then becoming fully wild. From what I remember, our class was assigned three projects pertaining to the book; one somewhere in the middle of the book where we had to design a poster for the fight between Buck and Spitz, one at the very end that was just your standard essay about the theme of the book or something like that, and one in-between those that I will be talking about here.

The Call of the Wild is a relatively short book at only 7 chapters. Leading up to this project, we read through every chapter except for the last one. Instead of reading the last chapter right away, we were given a project where we all had to individually write our own conclusion to the book without reading the actual last chapter. I was mildly peeved, because I just wanted to finish the book, but I figured it might be fun. If i remember correctly, there weren’t really any restrictions for what we could or couldn’t do, aside from it obviously needing to be a continuation of the book using the same characters. In the document we were given that explained the project there were some suggestions for things we could include in our chapter, one of which was bringing back previous characters who had died. My favorite character in the book was Sol-leks, a husky on Buck’s sled team with only one eye, and he got killed at the end of chapter 5 when his new incompetent owners lead him over frozen water that breaks under them and causes them to drown. I decided to bring back Sol-leks for my chapter.

Now is where that title comes in. I truly wish I could go back to my 8th grade self and figure out what the hell caused me to take this route with my chapter, because on reflection I cannot figure it out. For whatever reason, likely just for shits and giggles, I decided it would be fun to imply romantic feelings between Buck and Sol-leks. That’s right everyone, in 8th grade I wrote a gay romance subplot between two of the dogs in The Call of the Wild for a graded English assignment. It wasn’t a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it thing either, I had an entire paragraph in there dedicated to how the two spent a lot of time together and got to know each other well and had a special bond that I flat-out said was more than friendship. And I submitted it like that. Where I live, its kind of a roulette of guessing whether someone is homophobic or not, so I wasn’t sure if I might get in trouble for my gay dog story, but I knew if any teacher or faculty member tried to give me shit for it then I would 100% be going to bat for my little Buck x Sol-leks fanfic. Fortunately, I never got in any trouble, and my teacher gave me an A. (if i remember correctly it was a 96 or 97% out of 100) I believe the teacher may have also left comments on it when she graded it, but I don’t remember what they were if there were any. Which leads me to the sad part of this story.

I can’t find the original writing.

I don’t have it saved anywhere, and my school email account I wrote it with is long gone now. Even when I still had access to it, for some reason I was unable to find it in my Google Drive. I couldn’t even find the instruction document or the grading rubric. Not having access to this writing piece is truly one of the worst regrets of my life. I would give almost anything to have it back. I’m genuinely sad I don’t have it anymore. Fortunately, I still remember how it went, so I’ll give you all an abridged version of it here.

For context, in the chapter before this, Buck’s new owner John Thornton had made a bet with a man named Matthewson in a bar that Buck could pull a 1,000 pound sled for 100 yards. Buck succeeded and Thornton won the bet, but Matthewson offered a large sum to buy Buck that Thornton refused.

My chapter began with Buck, Thornton, and Thornton’s other dogs traveling through a wooded area when Buck heard a familiar whimpering. Buck followed the sound to find Sol-leks, cold and alone in the forest. My explanation for how he survived was that he was able to get out of the water and got lost in the woods. Thornton took Sol-leks in to nurse him back to health like he had with Buck, noticing that Sol-leks was one of the other dogs on Buck’s team when Thornton first found him. Over this time when Sol-leks was recovering he and Buck became very close, which is where that previously mentioned paragraph insinuating that they were falling in love comes in. When Sol-leks was healthy again, he joined Thornton’s sled dog team and they continued traveling. However, one night while they were camped outside, Matthewson tracked them down and, still bitter about losing the bet and not being able to buy Buck, planned to steal Buck instead. Buck was captured by Matthewson, but before he could get away, Sol-leks realized he was there trying to steal Buck and attacked him. Buck got free and watched for a moment, thankful that Sol-leks cared so much for him that he would put himself in harm’s way to save him, before Buck joined in on the fight. I don’t remember if they killed Matthewson or just drove him away, but they were able to continue their journey together.

And that’s how it ended. For the most part this story really only exists in my memories, but there are fortunately two things to prove this thing was real and not just a weird fever dream I had that got confused with reality. First is the memories from my friends who also went to middle school with me and remember doing the project themselves. The other one is this page in my sketchbook from 8th grade, in which I drew my own designs of Buck and Sol-leks. The drawing on the bottom was directly based on a scene in my story.

(For some reason its not letting me put the picture in this post, I’m going to post this as-is and reblog it with the picture)

Will I ever revisit this idea again? Maybe. If I have the time someday and the urge strikes me I won’t rule out the potential of me doing something with it. Do I think Buck x Sol-leks is a good ship? I don’t know. I haven’t read the original book in years, so maybe if I went back and read it with fresh eyes I would think differently. Sorry if there are any die-hard The Call of the Wild fans out there who were just scarred by my potentially horrid misinterpretations of these characters.

Also, the song I associated with the ship was The Sharpest Lives by My Chemical Romance.

[news-of-the-day]

5/31/23

The Biden administration and Speaker McCarthy managed to hash out a budget deal over the weekend, but it still has to pass congress and both sides aren't particularly pleased with it. The deal suspends the debt limit for two years, but as a concession there have to be cuts in all discretionary, nondefense spending. This includes the IRS, the budget of which Biden wanted to increase to go after wealthy taxpayers who aren't paying. It also adds work requirements for food stamps, releases several billion set aside for COVID, ends the freeze on student loans, and allows the construction of the Mountain Valley Pipeline. I'd like to take this opportunity to talk about the budget in general because all this wrangling doesn't really touch on the biggest problem the US is facing. We can divide the budget between mandatory, discretionary, and interest. Interest is about 8% and is payment for all the borrowing. Discretionary is about 30% and is basically add ons that aren't required by law, like wanting to buy more tanks, have some studies on wildlife, or federal funding for public schools. Mandatory holds the biggest chunk at 63%, and that's where the issue is. The US spends almost half of its budget on medicare/medicaid and social security, and it's going to get worse as people age and have less children. For example, my father received about $2500/month in social security, and in the last three years of his life probably burned through $500K of medicare. That's a lot of taxes for just one person. Considering the birth rate is going down, there will be even less people to fill the pot of money required to pay those benefits, and the US will have to borrow even more to cover the difference. There are a lot of ways to solve this--the most obvious is raise the retirement age to 68--but any move is extremely unpopular and neither Republicans nor Democrats want to address it, so they just haggle over the discretionary stuff instead.

In probably the most important election of the year, Turkish President Erdogan won another five-year term. The first round on May 14th was close, so by Turkish law a second round happened last Sunday. However the results remained very close because his popularity sank due to economic issues and the response to the earthquake earlier this year.

Russia has continuously been bombarding Kiev. Yesterday a drone strike hit Moscow, but with only minimal damage.

The Sudanese army suspended its ceasefire talks and fighting is flaring up again.

The Sackler family was granted shielding from current or future civil lawsuits over the opioid crisis in return for $6B. Perdue Pharma is one of the major players in pushing its pain medication and kicking off a massive opioid crisis in the US from the 2000s until today. Perdue was sued to the point of bankruptcy for its role, but its owners the Sacklers were also targeted, and whether they're personally liable or not has been languishing in the courts for years until now.

The Texas legislature voted to impeach its AG, Ken Paxton. He has been accused of securities fraud, bribery, using his office to help friends (he's being impeached for this offense), and stealing a $1000 pen on camera. He entered national news in 2020 when he brought a case to the Supreme Court to ask it to change the swing states from Biden to Trump, which is an insane and completely nonsensical request legally, (note: the following is speculation) and the gossip at the time was he was looking to ingratiate himself to Trump for a presidential pardon because there was no other reasonable explanation for that action.

1) AP, NYT, Vox 2) Axios 3) AP 4) Reuters 5) Financial Times 6) CNN

Sorry, I took a short break because my brother had a baby. Regular updates will resume.

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine you are the twin sister to Luke, daughter of Padmé and Anakin Skywalker, who was raised in Lothal. However, at the age of seven you go through a difficult trauma. Years later you are part of the Ghost crew and Kanan Jarrus is your master. But the moment you meet Darth Vader, something changes in you… as well as in him. Part II.

Warnings: the character’s plot is based on Ezra Bridger’s on ���Rebels”. References to season two will be seen here. So no Ezra in this story and the reader is a 15 year old—same age as Ezra. Also, no Princess Leia in this universe, sorry.

Warnings 2: teenage angst and drama, but also it’s meant to be a light reading. Lol. Here we go!

Warnings 3: fluffy ending; we don’t work with misery and unhappiness endings here.

***

Your POV.

You have no time to question yourself about the advise this strange voice gives you. The feeling you have is good and in fact helps your concentration.

Soon, you do surprise your new friends when you take a confidently hold onto your saber and…

Zoom.

Zooom.

Zooom.

In an unusual short time, you manage not only to destroy all the objects that were flying in your direction, but also to knock C1-P10 down.

“Congratulations, Y/N!” You smile brightly as your master comes to you. “It does impress me the facility upon which you’ve been overcoming yourself.”

“Yeah kid. You are doing a great job!” Zeb comes to ruffle your hair.

“Thanks guys.”

You turn at Kanan as others disappear at your sight.

“Uh, Master?”

He senses your hesitation in approaching a sensitive topic. As Kanan leads you back inside the ship, you wait until you are downstairs to say.

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

It’s when you confide him about the voice you heard.

“I think we should investigate it. I have a good feeling about this.”

But the Jedi isn’t welcoming the idea with the same enthusiasm.

“We have now more important things to do, Y/N. Perhaps all you’ve had was an intuition. The wisest move is wait cautiously if it comes again.” Kanan hesitates as he presses his hand over your shoulder. “Imprudence is not the Jedi way.”

It may not be the Jedi way, but it often is to many adolescents—whether they have the Force or not. And you are not an exception. So you decide to investigate yourself.

The only way to do so is by meditating, however, you have only the time when you are going to bed. You close your eyes and try to hold back the eagerness in your heart, an inexplicable anxiety. You want the answers for your restlessness, believing that if the tip the voice gave you earlier today in the training helped you shape your moves, it surely could not belong to someone entirely bad.

You breathe in. You breathe out. You let the Force guide you. You take your time…

And the Force guides you to the vast space. There is no chaos, only the immensity of the emptiness that lies ahead of you. It’s when you hear a mechanical breathing that gives you chills. The same chills of before.

“I feel you, little one.”

You don’t find anything to describe the voice; you cannot see the owner and you are not sure how to feel about it either. In truth, your excitement and anxiety are clouding your judgements.

“W-Who are you?”

“Your feelings are making it difficult for you to see me.” His voice is soft to your ears, sounding so familiar but making it difficult to identify.

“Please, show yourself, sir. I want to thank you for helping me earlier…”

“You are strong enough to reach out for me and establish this conversation? Amazing, indeed.” You capture his thoughts. But after a while he responds you. “It is not the time yet, dear one. You must be kept in safety. For your own good.”

Another chill runs in your spine.

“I have a bad feeling about this.” He too reads your thoughts. “Sir, if you were not a good individual, whoever you were, why would you help me? It makes no sense.”

You hear his mechanical breathing again. You feel the conflict there is in him, but there is so little you can capture and comprehend. Your lack of profound knowledge in the arts of the Jedis frustrates you.

Sensing it so, he says:

“I assure you, dear one, that we will meet again. When the time comes, you must be ready.”

There is a pause, you are still chewing the meaning of this words, inevitable disappointed by what you hear.

“Little one…” His voice echoes in the back of your mind as the connection starts to dissipate. “You will not be forgotten, I promise. Never forget that, Y/N.”

The familiarity with which he evokes your name helps make things clear, but even so there is only so much you can grasp between the lines of what is said and unsaid. Yet, the connection breaks abruptly and you are forced to wake up.

***

Vader’s POV.

All the whilst he returns to the Death Star, Vader’s conscience goes in unrest again. To suffocate this internal rebellion costs him a great deal of Force, specially because he needs to mask it if he finds the Emperor.

He cannot stop thinking about you, though. The eagerness to get to know him, the connection you feel to him—all of which he feels it too. But Vader hesitates. Because if you know who he is, you’d get away. Perhaps he wants you to by avoiding to meet you.

But as he goes to bed later that night, the moment his eyes close, it is as if his spirit is taken to you, to your dreams.

Your hair is not braided anymore. It falls loose behind your back and the wind is blowing against your face. You wear Jedi clothes and Vader’s heart is heavy when seeing the Padawan braid in you.

This is an illusion.

“Is it, though?” You answer him, walking right to where he is.

Vader is hidden underneath a dark cape, but you are not scared of him. Once you remove it, he almost hisses at you for doing so.

“Don’t.”

“Let me see you”, you beg as he holds your wrist. “Please.”

“No. It’s better for you if you don’t know who I am, who I truly am.” He walks past you, arms folded, acting like the illusion is him.

You follow him, though. You stand right behind him.

“Every day the familiarity I feel with you grows. Why? You should not come to my dreams.”

Vader barely turns his head to hear you better.

“What?”

“I know this is a dream. But you are not supposed to be in it” He sees you smiling. “We are bonded. And I will find you. I know there is good in you, otherwise we wouldn’t be here.”

“For a kid, you are quite smart.” Vader shakes his head. “Is Obi-Wan behind your tricks?”

You tilt your head and by the looks of your face, Vader knows you have no idea what are you talking about. Of course not. Her adoptive parents were killed before she knew the truth.

He, however, forgets you have the ability of reading his thoughts—though only to certain extent because you have yet to discipline it.

“What? Are you telling me I was adopted?!” You exclaim, suddenly hurt.

Before Vader can tell you, something breaks the connection. He wakes up. To his surprise his face is bathed in salty tears.

“Y/N…. What have I done?”

***

Your POV.

You run excitedly to tell your Master about the dream you’ve had. He is talking to Captain Hera and you may or may not notice how Hera smiles at Kanan, but there are more important things to be said according to you.

“Master, I’ve got you news!” You say in a mix of emotions you cannot even name. “I got close to the owner of the voice I heard that day, remember? He came to my dreams. He told me I was adoptive and…”

“Wait a minute, Y/N. These are a lot of informations at once for someone who is moody in the morning. Come on, take a seat and have your breakfast first.” Kanan watches you intrigued as you do so. “Breathe in, breathe out. Now tell us what’s the matter, kid. You are saying you are adopted? Uh? But I thought you were orphan. I’m confused.”

As you tell him all you’ve seen, Kanan frowns his eyebrows as a result.

“I don’t think I like where this is going. If you were adopted…and this man knew your parents were dead, have you considered his part in their death?”

“I sense a good feeling about him, though.” You tell him. “I need to know who he is. It’s part of my training, of who I am supposed to be.”

Kanan raises an eyebrow.

“Really now, Y/N?”

“Well”, Hera interfered. “I’ve been there once even though i don’t think I am qualified enough to be a Jedi. Where do you think you’ll meet this man?”

You smile warmly at her, pleased to have her confidence.

“At Lothar.”

“Then Lothar it is.” She says, exchanging amusing glances with Kanan, who shakes his head.

But as you go there, he trains you harder than before.

“Whilst I think there might be a trap waiting for us, you better go to it prepared.”

“Why”, you say all the whilst skillfully maneuvering the saber, “would you think it’s a trap? It is unlike us of never going willing one.”

He makes you lose the saber, but this time you are quicker to get it back.

“Very funny.” He says. “Come on, try again. And remember, Y/N: concentrate. Try seeing through the Force.”

You nod. Despite the facility you have with the trainings at times, these can be still difficult. You are too agitated, eager to get things done properly and impatient with yourself.

The more Kanan demands of you, the more you get your expectations higher to please him. This reminds you when you thought he didn’t want to be your master. You detest to be a people pleaser, but once he took you under his wig, you wanted him to be pleased with what you are doing. He is the closest to a family, after all.

It gets you emotional at times this sort of attachment you develop with the Ghost crew, but can you be blamed after eight years spent alone and on the run?

Now you are not only surrounded by people who care for you, but also have a new purpose: to become a Jedi and spread hope to the Galaxy, thus offering resistance to the Empire so the Republic is restored.

“You are letting your anxieties taking heed of you again, Y/N.” Kanan warns you. “Come on. Focus! Discipline your mind!”

You try to, but the more intensity he applies in the blows against you, the more frustrated you get. For your surprise, that voice comes again: empty your thoughts, child, and let the Force flow…

“I can’t!” You squeak.

“Yes, you can!” Kanan says. “Try harder, Y/N.”

Yes, my dear girl, you can. Trust in yourself, trust in your abilities. Don’t let the fear consume you.

The words seem to sooth you. Like the first time, you trust in them. And it’s when you succeed it.

You and Kanan smile at each other.

“There you go. You were excellent, Y/N.” He pats a hand over your shoulder. “But you can still do better. Now come on, let us see what the crew are doing.”

***

Vader’s POV.

He keeps track of your moves. As he does, Vader is impressed by your abilities. But eventually he cannot content himself to be a distant observer. There is a side of him that is displeased to have kept you far from him.

So he finally lands in Lothar. Vader knows it is a risk, but he is assuming it. The Sith Lord closes his eyes and searches for you. The Force seems to lead him into the temple. But he hesitates when seeing Ahsoka. His apprentice.

She feels his presence too, Vader knows. But he cannot—and will not—go back. Before he steps inside the temple, she comes to meet him. She is not the youngling he used to know.

“Master.” She is shocked when seeing him like this, a man in cape. A man still. Not the glorious Jedi he once was. And yet, because she is sensing the conflict in Vader, she addresses him fondly so. Even though he detects pain in him. “Why are you here? What happened?”

Ahsoka swallows hard. Vader sees the tears puddling her eyes, the guilt behind them.

“You are not alone.” She observes it, rather tense. “What…”

He is silent, but most often silence says better than a thousand words. Ahsoka understands it now,a gentle smile softening the pain in her features.

“I should have known it better. I felt it but I wasn’t entirely sure.”

“I thought you’ve overcome this, Snips.” Vader mumbles a response, but his heart warms when she smiles widely at him.

And just like that, they reconcile. Ahsoka runs to his arms, holding him tight.

“I knew you were not entirely lost to darkness, Skyguy. I knew it.”

She sobs and Vader joins her in.

***

Your POV.

As you walk inside the temple again in search for answers, the Force transports you. You are no where to be seen.

You are surrounded by stars and it is as if you are in space. You could easily contemplate the scene had a voice not brought you back to present.

“A galaxy, all of us are. To light ourselves in the midst of dark, take great courage it does.”

You turn at Master Yoda and greet him respectfully.

“Master! Last time we’ve encountered I could not see you.”

“Growing your powers are”, says the older master. “Stronger you may be, a Jedi not yet you are.”

A disappointment crosses your face.

“But I thought the missions I’ve been through with my Master have led me to acquire experiences.”

“To wisdom, experiences lead. An unending process it is.” Yoda tells you. “Help yourself in seeing better through the Force, the impatience does not. Contemplate better what the Force shows you, you must.”

You ponder his words, looking down for one instant before raising your eyes again:

“How will i know when I’m ready?”

Yoda gives you a long glance.

“The right time when it comes, know you will.”

You sigh, the response too evasive for your understanding.

“Much to learn you still have, Padawan. Not always like we want life is.”

He stands and says:

“A major battle there is yet to come. Prepare yourself you must.” He pauses. “I sense fear and angry in you, Padawan. Fear leads to anger and anger leads to the dark side. A long suffering the dark side is. Check your emotions you must.”

You nod, understanding well what he means. You do still carry the scars of the past and you still need to let go of it.

“I appreciate, Master Yoda. I won’t fail you. The Jedis will win again.”

“Win, eh? Is that what preoccupies you, young one?” Yoda chuckles seeing through you. “To be a Jedi, why?”

“Because I want to give hope to people, I want to spark the good in them.” You hesitate, thoughtful. “I want to be useful and play the part in the restoration of peace throughout Galaxy. I don’t seek glory, but duty.”

“Hmm.” Yoda strokes his chin. “Well your master has trained you, I see. Full of your good intentions is your heart, but will it be able to go intact through the trials of life?”

As you contemplate his words, he disappears. You want to reach out for him, panicking for being left alone. It’s when the scenario changes. A man in dark cape laughs when standing before you.

“Now let us see if you are your father’s daughter… hehehe.” His malicious chuckle gives you chills. “I sense your fear, child. There is anger in you too. Perhaps it is time to join me to the dark side…”

“Never!” You are quick to stand. You hold your saber and swallow hard before this evil man, whom you know as Sith Lord. You remember the teachings of your Master and whoever may have been your true father, you’d make him justice.

The Sith Lord attacks you with his red saber in a different manner than the Inquisitor you fought not long ago. However, this time you are growing in confidence and you are better prepared to resist the blows—though naturally you are not as strong as you have hoped.

Even so the Force is strong in you. You concentrate and you try to fight him. But the more you try, the less you succeed.

“Your mother would be ashamed of you.” The opponent knows your wounds and brings them back open. “Your foster parents would too. How weak you’ve become, Y/N. Where are your merits and accomplishments? I see none.”

You know they are aimed to hurt you, to test you, but even so there are tears in your eyes.

“How pathetic. Are you letting your emotions win over you?”

You could only choose a battle one at time. You tight the grip around your saber, eyes closed and you start fighting away the Sith Lord. As you concentrate, you grow stronger.

But even so, your power only reaches so far. There’s a tie. But It’s enough for the figure dissolve into a figure of light: the inquisitor who once chased you is seen surrounded by it.

“I was once like you, a Jedi. Congratulations, Y/N. You are now a Knight Jedi. Kneel.”

He puts the saber delicately over your shoulder.

“But don’t think this is over. The greatest challenge is yet to come.”

You nod, feeling peace within you. But the second you leave the place, you are surprised to see Kanan is not there anymore.

Your heart races loud.

“Kanan? Master?” It’s then you hear the sound of sabers.

You go outside and you see a battle happening. It all happens so fast that your instinct about a nearby enemy comes a little late.

***

Vader’s POV.

He would not get himself involved with that rebel cell. Though he is reconciled with his former Padawan, it does not concern himself the battle with the Inquisitors.

That is, until you show up. And the inquisitor H/N manages to take a hold of you. His disguise comes to nothing, his careful efforts in omitting his signature prove to be fruitless when seeing you under attack.

He thus lifts his hand and throws the inquisitor away all the while you, although surprised by his moves, don’t take long in joining the battle. In the meantime you are taking the saber ready to fight by your master’s side, Vader is fighting his own.

The Inquisitors have brought a small army this time, but once Vader does not need to take long to bring the enemy down, he joins Ahsoka’s side.

“Like the very old days, Master.” She tells him excitedly. Vader senses her emotions, the same as his. He smiles underneath the hood.

“Like the very old days, Snips.”

However, as soon as the troopers are defeated one by one, it’s time to look back at you. He would gladly interfere, but you turn your head at the group—though your eyes seem to particularly lie on his presence—and say:

“No. This one is mine. I need to go through this myself.”

Vader would reprehend you for such nonsense, prompted to tell you that whatever the Jedis told you in the temple should not be taken seriously, but Ahsoka impedes him.

“No, Master. It is part of her trial. Leave her be.”

“I didn’t agree to this.” Vader hisses.

“No, but she did.” She smiles at him.

Vader clenches his jaw, folding his arms as he watches you. Kanan looks at him, puzzled before such attitude, but he chooses to ignore his daughter’s Jedi Master.

His eyes are glued instead on you. The Inquisitor you fight clearly thinks you are a toy in an evident demonstration of despise. Vader’s angry boils, but Ashoka puts a hand in his arm and says:

“Calm yourself, Master. Trust in Y/N.”

“I trust in her, I don’t trust him.”

You surprise him nonetheless with your maneuvers, which somehow remind him of his own. Your astute is shaped by the Force, though not rarely you fall and get hurt.

Again, Vader is forced to control his paternal instincts.

“Are you well? All you all right?”

By the quick glances Vader captures from you, he can tell you heard his thoughts. And who he is to you.

“Yes, father. I am.”

You smirk to yourself even though the Inquisitor is giving you a hard time. Vader can read your thoughts and sentiments easily: you want to show him how capable you are even though there is little need to impress him. He is already impressed.

But there is also another feelings he’s been too familiar with: the urge to please the Master and ensure that everything you do reflects the teachings.

Vader knows where this comes from and he’s plagued by guilt. He wants to tell you this is to no use, but when he looks at Kanan, Vader is reminded of Obi-Wan: the paternal care, the concern in the man’s eyes for your safety.

All the while, Ahsoka is able to read her Master’s distress. It upsets her to feel this disturbance in him, so she turns at him and rubs his arms gently.

“It will pass, Anakin. All of this… If you let go.” She whispers, and he knows the reason: if you hear it, you’d be distracted.

“Do you think he will forgive me?” The question that has been torturing him in the last months reaches his tongue without his permission.

“I know he will.” She hugs him. “The journey doesn’t end here, Skyguy.”

And then she gazes at you and Vader follows it. You are carrying scars, indeed—not only physically, but psychologically too—but you are a warrior in every meaning. No matter the countless times you are knocked down, you don’t give up.

Vader notices that you had every reason to turn at the dark side, but kindness prevailed over your heart. That is why you manage to win your enemy over. That is how the Inquisitor finally dies.

***

Your POV.

“Wait a minute…” you hear Kanan’s astonished words as all of you gather in the ship once again, now moving it to Tatooine. “Are you telling me that you are Anakin Skywalker and that…?”

“I am Y/N’s father?” Anakin sees the smile raising brightly to your lips and the satisfaction in Ahsoka’s eyes. “Yes, Kanan. That is what I am saying.”

“The same one who turned to the dark side?”

“He was tempted to, Master.” You interrupt him. “He’s good again. He brought the Force to balance.”

“I do not think I deserve it to be seen as good, though. After all I’ve done…”

“Sometimes we get lost only to be found.” Kanan contemplates. “What matters now is that you’ve found light, sir. Better late than ever.”

You see your father nodding, but sadness in his eyes. After they all have supper, though, you refuse to sleep. You want to spend more time with your dad. Nothing gladdens you more than to know he’s joined the Rebels to be closer to you.

“You should go to bed.” He tells you as he prepares to sleep on the floor of it, even though Sabine had given her bed to him so you two could spend more time together. “You’ve had a long day today, young one.”

“I can rest another day.” You take a seat by his side. “I know you’ve done a lot of wrongs, but by choosing me over all the darkness there is out there tells me the good hasn’t swept away completely. We all good and bad inside us. Hence the balance.”

“Your faith in me… i don’t deserve it.” He says with his voice embargoed. “So much of your mother you have, Y/N.”

You smile warmly at him. You gently touch his face, seeing the scars and then put a golden lock behind his ear. It’s when you surprise Vader, now Anakin again, with a hug.

“You are family. We don’t give up family.”

That night, Darth Vader cried.

*

The grand moment eventually comes. It takes a longer while than you and the Ghost crew, but the battle does land where it is least expected. Ignoring your protests, your father does not let you fight by his side.

“This is something I need to do myself.”

Seeing your distress, he looks at you and says:

“You’ve brought the balance to me, Y/N. There is no greater gift for me than this. Your mother would be proud.” He kisses your temple. “I love you, my daughter. Never forget that.”

“I love you too, daddy.”

And then comes the words unspoken.

Please, come back to me safe and sound.

Words that he hears, even though he cannot show. But in the meantime you watch him face his trials, your Master turns at you.

“Come now, Y/N. Our duty has not come to an end. We need you more than ever.”

You blink away tears and nod at Kanan.

“Of course.”

Then Zeb shows up out of the blue only to throw you over his shoulder, much to your consternation. The scene makes Kanan smile. But as you walk back to the ship, carried away by your friend, he hears Sabine say:

“I hope he’s making the right choice.”

It’s Ashoka who responds her.

“He is.” Her eyes are set on the hopeful horizon, her heart at ease. “My Master is the chosen one, after all.

***

Epilogue.

After the storm, peace. Anakin smiles at the merry scene that he sees: you teaching Luke in the Jedi way, all the while teasing him in the process which gets your friends—specially Sabine, whom Anakin notices his son took some like for—laughing.

“Y/N”, he interferes. “Be kind to your brother.”

You try not to roll your eyes, but give him a smirk.

“I will try, daddy.”

“Well, try harder.” Luke teases you.

“You say that again and I’ll make your trains a hell.”

“Y/N!”

You pull a puppy face at him.

“Sorryyyy.” You pout.

But you’ve never been happier. The moment you found out you have a twin brother is the second best of your life. You and Luke did not need much to bond and now here you are, inseparable, the best of friends. Every now and then you are jealous of sharing him to Sabine, and one day your dad has to lecture you about attachments.

“It’s not that attachments are a bad thing, but the best way to love one another is to let go. I’ve learnt that in the worst way, kiddo. And believe me, neither he nor I will abandon you, all right?”

“Fine.” You sigh, before laying your head on his shoulder. Anakin smiles at how close his daughter is to him.

And now all of you settle in Coruscant. Although Anakin is no longer part of the Order, he’s earned the title of Master. His children join it, but eventually Luke decides his path leads him to diplomacy like his mother before him. So he raises to become the Senator of Naboo.

You remain the Padawan to Master Kanan, to whom you share a close bond like Anakin and Obi-Wan before. In fact, Grandpa Ben is how you call him and he’s very proud of his “grandchildren”.

“I do not think I am that old to be your grandfather, my dear.” He tells you one day, offended.

Anakin roars in laughters.

“Your grey hair implies otherwise, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan shoots him a glare.

“Like father, like daughter.”

“Besides”, Anakin tells him merrily. “You are the closest thing I have to a father. It’s only fair that Y/N sees you as a grandfather.”

You giggle when you see the older Jedi blush. He then casts you a fond glance.

“Very well then. I see I lost an argument.” He chuckles.

That is the life you deserve, the peace you’ve earned. But you’d still give your father much preoccupation from the moment you start to resume your activities with the Ghost crew.

Or when you encounter a man named Han Solo…

[whataperfectwasteoftime]

Born to Run / Chapter 3

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Marathon Runner f!reader (no y/n)

Rating: E for eventual smut

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Assault mention, brief mention of size kink, one (1) reference to a penis, Marcus is in his feelings again.

Summary: Marcus does some soul searching, and finally takes a look around the cabin to get his bearings.

A/N: I’m new to the whole writing thing, and now I know how it feels to go off on a tangent about furniture and decor in a fic that I’m writing for the sole purpose of getting two people to eventually fuck. But first, let’s talk about 1970s cabins, amiright? This is kind of a shorter filler chapter because I wanted to get back inside Marcus’s head before he ‘runs’ (get it?) into reader again. ALSO - check out the goofy header I made! What do you think? Let me know your thoughts, and whether you'd like to be tagged in future updates.

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

After dropping you off your car, Marcus let out a breath he felt he had been holding since the moment his coffee cup dropped from his knee to the floor earlier that morning. He watched you get into your car and drive away with a little wave and an awkward smile.

He mentally kicked himself. Why didn’t I ask for her number? Okay, he knew why--an appropriate time to ask for it just never came up. He could tell that you were attracted to him--he nearly lost it when you stammered something about his ‘big hands.’ There was clearly electricity between you two. But dammit, he would have felt like such a creep trying to ask you out after you were just molested by some asshole while out running, whether you were genuinely interested in him or not. The timing just wasn’t right. Isn’t that always the fucking truth, he thought ruefully as he made the short drive back to the cabin. In all the excitement, he almost forgot why he was here in the first place--a compulsory ‘vacation’ from work to deal with a near-mental breakdown after getting his heart broken by Theresa. And instead of spending it reading shitty novels and trying to put himself back together piece by piece, he immediately ran into another woman that he would have loved to have pursued, but couldn’t. Once again, it was all down to bad timing.

Maybe the universe was trying to show him something. More evidence (not that he needed any) that he was a man who falls far too quickly. He already knew this about himself: that he was quick to love, but also quick to anger--the same thing he had sought help for as a younger man. He had painstakingly worked on methods to quiet or slow down some of his stronger emotions, but no therapist had ever told him how to love more cautiously, or less fiercely. He always threw himself headfirst into love--taking giant leaps with no safety net, even if he knew in his heart that it would result in disaster. He had known Theresa was falling for her partner, but he had proposed to her anyway. What did he think was going to happen? If she had ultimately chosen Marcus, she would have only loved him with half her heart, while Marcus would have had no choice but to love her with his entire being. He didn’t know of any other way to love.

He pulled back into the driveway of his cabin and cut the engine. He took a deep breath, held it for a count of four, and let it out completely. That was over now. On to the next thing. He got out of the car and headed inside. In all the morning’s excitement, he still hadn’t had time to give the cabin a proper look.

The house looked like it had been updated in chunks by various owners with competing tastes, replacing what looked like original ‘seventies décor with more and more modern options. Some of the furniture, such as the bookshelves and side tables, had clearly never been touched. The art on the walls was also outdated and tacky by today’s standards. Marcus grinned to himself as he inspected a print of some ducks sitting on a pond. It was one of those paintings that he felt like he’d seen in every shitty hotel room on childhood vacations growing up. It was deliciously tacky, and gave him a feeling of nostalgia for road trips, greasy food, and bad movies on HBO.

In the late morning sun, the panoramic windows in the living room wall bathed the entire room with a beautiful green-tinged glow. The walls were constructed out of thick wooden logs, and the furniture was all rustic-themed, but cozy. There were plush rugs adorning the wood plank floors and a massive stone fireplace with a small, outdated plasma TV on the mantle. The sofa looked to be only ‘new-ish’; it looked like it had spent a well-loved decade in this living room, being a cozy resting place for many years’ worth of visitors and likely being jumped on by children and dogs. The cushions were slightly sunken, and he knew that if he sat down, he would sink comfortably down into them. One side of the couch was a chaise-lounge, and the foot was draped with a crocheted granny-square blanket. He ran a finger across the stitches, feeling the telltale itch of old yarn underneath his fingertip. He turned, headed into the kitchen and looked around. He had already been here, of course, making coffee before the sun and then frantically searching for an ice pack later, but he hadn’t had a chance to really appreciate the mismatch of styles as each sequential owner made their own stylistic choices over the decades.

Here, the cabinets and countertops had clearly been updated recently. The spacious kitchen island was modern cement. The current owner had clearly tried to combine rustic charm with modern aesthetic, and it worked. The appliances; however, were a little more mix and match. The gas stove was shiny and new, as was the dishwasher. But the refrigerator was clearly as old (or older) as the ice pack he had found inside it--and it was olive green. Marcus made a face. It was one of those ‘so hideous, it’s cool’ kind of appliances. No, scratch that--it was only hideous. Marcus moved on.

The bathrooms were thankfully fairly modern, although the standard for ‘modern’ after that olive green fridge was apparently ‘remodeled in the ‘nineties.’ But they were well-kept, with no glaringly dated design features. Meandering back in the living room, a closet tucked into the corner of the room caught Marcus’s eye. He walked over to it and opened the door and found it was packed full of dusty boxes, an old vacuum cleaner and broom, extra light bulbs, and other basic household necessities. But it was the old, black VHS player stacked on top of a pile of boxes that drew his attention. Curious, he carefully picked it up and drew it out of the closet, coating his hands and arms in a light layer of dust. The power cord and auxiliary cables were still plugged into the back. He glanced over at the TV on the mantle. That could be a fun distraction, he thought to himself. He made a mental note to poke around the closet for any tapes, then set it on a side table, dusted himself off a little, and continued on.

There was a little bonus room off of the living room that was occupied by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a pair of comfy leather armchairs with an antique lamp on a table between them. Marcus moved over to the bookshelf to peruse the selection. There was a shelf full of classic literature, shelved in no particular order that he could discern--Marcus ran his finger over the spine of Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights as he read the titles. Oliver Twist. The Great Gatsby. A well-loved paperback copy of The Hobbit. On another shelf was a collection of pulp science fiction, which caught Marcus’s eye. He pulled out one at random, chuckling at the garishly illustrated cover, but raising his eyebrows at the summary in the back. He set it down on the side table next to the chairs to revisit later. Two whole shelves were devoted to nothing but James Patterson novels, which he ignored. There were also a handful of fairly useless non-fiction books--some very old, outdated dictionaries, a thesaurus, a random math textbook, and most puzzlingly, a book on Windows 95. He picked that one up and chuckled as he thumbed through the pages, smiling at the outdated language and old stock photos. He returned it to the shelf and stood, looking out the window at the pond for a few moments.

His thoughts inevitably returned to you. He saw the interest in your eyes when he had looked at you. He wasn’t imagining that. If only he got a chance to see you again, he could judge for himself whether that spark that he had felt was real. He could reassure himself that it wasn’t just a fluke. The proximity of his breakup with Theresa still bothered him, though. He was too close to the situation to be able to see things clearly, and he knew that. He wasn't going into this with a clear mind or a clear heart, and that wasn't fair to you.

Maybe it was better if he didn’t look for you after all. Save you both the trouble. Marcus brought his hand up to the glass, making a fist and resting his forehead on it, looking out across the verdant property. You really had been beautiful. It was something in the self-assured way you carried yourself that he admired. Or maybe it was the quick wit and wry smiles. Maybe it was the power in your legs, he mused. If the timing had just been right, he would have begged to be crushed in between those thighs. His cock gave a little twitch at the thought. Letch, he scolded himself. No, what it really was, he knew, was the way you had looked at him. Really, really looked. With those wide, beautiful eyes of yours. When he had gazed into them, he just knew. You had wanted him too.

If he ran into you again, he knew he wouldn't be able to help himself. He had a weakness for beautiful women, and he was an easy flirt. It was when a relationship moved past flirting and into feelings, that he got himself into trouble. He was only here for a week--if he saw you again, and you were interested in him enough to… ‘spend some time’ with him that week, no strings attached, then what was the harm in having a little fun? He was on “vacation,” after all; and there was nothing wrong with a little bit of rebound sex to improve his outlook on the future, sending him back to work with a clear head and a fresh start.

His stomach rumbled, and he suddenly remembered that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. There was no food in the house, save for some questionable looking cans of soup in one of the kitchen cabinets. He needed to head into town, get his bearings, and most importantly, get some lunch.

-

Taglist: @honestly-shite , @thirddeadlysin , @deepstarsco , @221bshrlocked , @mando-amando , @frenchyjuju , @farfromjustordinary

[wisdomrays]

QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: Are Muslims Guilty of Imperialism?

This charge continues to be leveled against the Muslim world. I would like to counter it by asking the following questions:

Given the existing circumstances of 1,400 years ago, how would any one living in Makka or Madina go about exploiting his own clan and tribe? If the supposedly exploited lands and people were those of the Hijaz, which were poor, unfruitful, and barren, who would have wished to invade or exploit them? It is ludicrous to level the charge of imperialist colonialism against the most noble-minded Muslims, who risked their lives to spread the message of Islam; who spent the greater part of their lives far from their children, families, homes, and native lands fighting armies ten or twenty times their size; and who felt deeply grieved when they did not die on the battlefield and join the earlier martyrs for Islam. We ask ourselves what worldly gain they obtained in return for such struggle, deprivation, and sacrifice!

Those who invaded, occupied, and exploited others with the worst intentions (and results) of imperialism are power-hungry individuals or nations. To mention a few: Alexander the "Great" and Napoleon, the Roman empire and Nazi Germany, the Mongol armies unleashed by Genghis Khan and the colonizing armies unleashed by western Europe, Russian dictatorship (whether czarist or communist) and the American empire (whether "manifest destiny" or "making the world safe for democracy"). Wherever such conquests came and went, they corrupted the morality of the conquerors and the conquered, causing chaos, conflict, tears, bloodshed, and devastation. Today their heirs, like bold thieves who bluff property owners to conceal their theft of that very property, turn to besmirching Islam, its Prophet, and his Companions.

True Muslims have never sought to exploit others. Nor have they let others do so where Muslim government had jurisdiction. At a time when Muslim armies were running from triumph to triumph, Caliph 'Umar said: "What befits me is to live at the level of the poorest Muslims," and he really did so. As he took only a few olives a day for his own sustenance, who was he exploiting?

After one battle, when a Muslim was asked to take the belongings of an enemy soldier whom he had fought and killed, he said: "I did not participate in the battle to take spoils." Pointing to his throat, he continued: "What I seek is an arrow here and to fall as a martyr." (His wish was granted.) While burning with the desire for martyrdom, who was he exploiting?

In another battle, a Muslim soldier fought and killed a leading enemy who had killed many Muslims. The Muslim commander saw him pass by his dead enemy. The commander went to the head of the dead soldier and asked who had killed him. The Muslim did not want to reply, but the commander called him back in the name of God. The Muslim felt himself obliged to do so, but concealed his face with a piece of cloth. The following conversation took place:

-Did you kill him for the sake of God?

-Yes.

-All right. But take this 1,000 dinar piece.

-But I did it for the sake of God!

-What is your name?

-What is my name to you? Perhaps you will tell this to everyone and cause me to lose the reward for this in the afterlife.

How could such people exploit others and establish colonies all over the world? To speak frankly, those who hate Islam and Muslims are blind to the historical truth of how Islam spread.

Let's look at what exploitation and imperialism are. Imperialism or colonization is a system of rule by which a rich and a powerful country controls other countries, their trade and policies, to enrich itself and gain more power at the other's expense. There are many kinds of exploitation. In today's world, they may take the following forms:

• Absolute sovereignty by dispossessing indigenous people in order to establish the invader's direct rule and sovereignty. Examples are western Europe's conquest of North and South America, as well as Australia and New Zealand, as well as the Zionists' conquest of Palestine.

• Military occupation so that the invaders can control the conquered nation's land and resources. One example is British colonial rule in India.

• Open or secret interference and intervention in a country's internal and foreign affairs, economy, and defense. Examples are those Third World countries who are manipulated and controlled by various developed countries.

• The transfer of intellectuals, which is currently the most common and dangerous type of imperialism. Young, intelligent, and gifted people of the countries to be exploited are chosen, given stipends, and educated abroad. There they are introduced to and made members of different groups. When they return to their country, they are given influential administrative and other posts so that they can influence their country's destiny. When native or foreign people linked to exploiters abroad are placed in crucial positions in the state mechanism, the country is conquered from inside. This immensely successful technique has enabled Western imperialists to achieve many of their goals smoothly and without overtly rousing the enmity of the people they wish to subjugate. Today, the Muslim world is caught in this trap and thus continues to suffer exploitation and abuse.

Whatever kind of imperialism they are subjected to, countries suffer a number of consequences:

• Various methods of assimilation alienate people from their own values, culture, and history. As a result, they suffer crises of identity and purpose, do not know their own past, and cannot freely imagine their own future.

• Any enthusiasm, effort, and zeal to support and develop their country is quenched. Industry is rendered dependent upon the (former) imperial masters, science and knowledge are not allowed to become productive and primary, and imitation is established firmly so that freedom of study and new research will gain no foothold.

• People remain in limbo, totally dependent upon foreigners. They are silenced and deluded by such empty phrases as progress, Westernization, civilization, and the like.

• All state institutions are penetrated by foreign aid, which is in reality no more than massive financial and cultural debt. Imports, exports, and development are wholly controlled by or conducted according to the exploiter's interests.

• While no effort is spared to keep the masses in poverty, the ruling classes become used to extravagant spending and luxury. The resulting communal dissatisfaction causes people to fight with each other, making them even more vulnerable to outside influence and intervention.

• Mental and spiritual activity is stifled, and so educational institutions tend to imitate foreign ways, ideas, and subjects. Industry is reduced to assembling prefabricated parts. The army tends to become a dumping ground for imperialist countries, for its purchases of expensive hardware ensure the continued well-being of the latter's industries.

We wonder if it is really rational to liken the Islamic conquest to imperialism, which brought disastrous consequences wherever it went.

The victory of Muslim armies never caused a great exodus of people from their homes and countries, nor has it prevented people from working by putting chains on their hands and feet. Muslims left the indigenous people free to follow their own way and beliefs, and protected them in exactly the same way it protected Muslims. Muslim governors and rulers were loved and respected for their justice and integrity. Equality, peace, and security were established between different communities.

If it had been otherwise, would the Christians of Damascus have gathered in their church and prayed for a Muslim victory against Christian Byzantium, which was seeking to regain control of the city? If Muslims had not been so respectful of non-Muslims' rights, could they have maintained security for centuries in a state so vast that it took more than 6 months to travel from one end to another?

One cannot help but admire those Muslim rulers and the dynamic energy that made them so, when we compare them to present-day rulers. Despite every modern means of transportation, telecommunications, and military back-up, they cannot maintain peace and security in even a small area of land.

Today, many scholars and intellectuals who realize the value of Islam's dynamics, which brought about Islam's global sovereignty and which will form the basis of our eternal existence in the Hereafter, expressly tell us that Muslims should reconsider and regain them. While conquering lands, the Muslims also were conquering their inhabitants' hearts. They were received with love, respect, and obedience. No people who accepted Islam ever complained that they were culturally prevented or ruined by the arrival of Muslims. The contrast with the reality of Christian Europe's conquests is stark and obvious.

Early Muslims evaluated the potential of knowledge and art in the conquered lands. They prepared and provided every opportunity for local scholars and scientists to pursue their work. Regardless of their religion, Muslims held the people in high regard and honored them in the community. They never did what the descendants of the British colonialists in America did to the American Indians or in Australia to the Aborigines, the French to the Algerians, or the Dutch to the Indonesians. On the contrary, they treated the conquered people as if they were from their own people and religion, as if they were brothers and sisters.

Caliph 'Umar once told a Coptic Egyptian who had been beaten by a Makkan noble to beat him just as he had been beaten. When 'Umar heard that 'Amr ibn al-'As had hurt the feelings of a native Egyptian, he rebuked him: "Human beings were born free. Why do you enslave them?" As he went to receive the keys to Masjid al-Aqsa, 'Umar visited and talked to priests in different churches in Palestine. Once he was in a church when it was time to pray. The priest repeatedly asked him to pray inside the church, but 'Umar refused, saying: "You may be harassed by other Christians later on because you let me pray in the church." He left the church's premises and prayed outside on the ground.

These are but a few examples to indicate how Muslims were sensitive, tolerant, just, and humane toward other people. Such an attitude of genuine tolerance has not been reached by any other people or society.

[junko-and-riri-domain]

jayla’s cafe | sjy

↬ series: cameras & caffeine | chapter one ↬ overall pairing: cafe owner!jake x ceo!reader (all members will be featured at some point throughout the series, some are in it more than others !!) ↬ overall series genres: fluff, slight angst, jake also bakes, reader is a single mom, we fell in love when we were kids but life happened so we broke up and now we’re reconnecting because we’re adults and i don’t think i ever truly got over you au, love triangle if you squint really really hard ↬ navi: next | series masterlist ↬ warnings: none ↬ word count: 1.3k

[ series synopsis ]

↱ You were young when you fell in love with Sim Jake. How could you not when he had a smile that could light up the darkest of nights, eyes that seemed to look deep into your soul, and a bubble of happiness around him that you wanted to be a part of? He was young when he fell in love with you. How could he not when you had a warmth that could never be replicated, a spark in your eyes that he loved to see, and your own special way of calming him down? But life had other plans for you two. After high school, he wanted to move back to Australia and start a new life with you but you wanted to stay in the country and continue the life already established for you. Things changed, your views no longer aligned, and before either of you two had broken up.

Now, a few years have passed and due to medical issues, your father has decided to temporarily step down from his position as Hybe Entertainment’s CEO, leaving the position to you. Despite all the eyes watching and waiting for you to fall since you’re so young and a single mother, you’re determined to prove them all wrong. You’ve been doing fine so far, working in such a high position and stressful environment while simultaneously being able to take the time and effort to take care of your son, Heeseung. But when you get news of your ex, Jake coming back to the country and opening up a cafe you decide to pay a visit. One visit turns to two which turns to three and before you know it, Jayla’s Cafe suddenly becomes a part of your regular routine. Jake meets Heeseung, the two instantly taking a liking to each other but unbeknownst to any of you, cameras lurk in the bushes and flash when you’re unaware. What happens when photos are revealed to the public and connections are made? Connections… that might not just be baseless rumors after all.  ↲

You let out a sigh as your eyes stay settled on your laptop screen in front of you, too focused on work to be able to glance at the time and too busy to hear your office door opening. It’s only when you feel a presence next to you, a slight tug at your hand, and the sound of your son’s voice that you’re finally brought back to reality and out of the trance that work had put you in. You smile as you smoothen out Heeseung’s hair, move the chair back a little to allow him to settle on your lap. You look up at Sunghoon and smile,

“Thanks for taking care of Hee today,” you say gratefully. Of all the billions of people in the world, you couldn’t be more thankful to have Sunghoon as your best friend. He was there for you when you were pregnant, a constant source of comfort when you needed it, and now was one of the closest things that Heeseung had as a father.

“Mhm,” is all Sunghoon replies as he takes your coat for you. While the three of you head into the elevator

“Hoonie?” you say. Sunghoon stays quiet at the nickname, simply looking at you and you continue, “I’m thankful for all that you’ve done for me but you really don’t have to any of this. After all, you’re the co-CEO of Park Enterprises with Jay and you have your own life. Maybe you should go on a few dates here and there instead of always being with me and Hee, I can set you up,” you offered. Sunghoon was hurt at your implication that there were better places to be than with you but didn’t show it. Instead,

“I don’t have time to go on dates, you know this.”

“But you have time to take care of a kid for half a day?” you countered. In all the years that you’ve known Sunghoon and have been best friends, you never could really get a read on him. You wondered what he was thinking about and the thoughts running through his mind but when the elevator finally reaches the parking lot below your building,

“It’s different because you and Heeseung are actually worth spending my time on,” he replied as you got into your car. The car ride to your house was spent in silence, a normal occurrence with Sunghoon but it felt normal and was a type of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Spending time with Sunghoon was something that you did so often that it was almost a part of your routine. Like tonight, there were times when Sunghoon would pick up Heeseung and bring him to your office and the three of you would then have dinner together. Other times, you picked up Heeseung and headed to Sunghoon’s office for dinner. Occasionally, Sunghoon’s half-brother and co-CEO of Park Enterprises, Jay would eat out with you guys too. Growing up, you were all a group of five who were stuck together like glue, Jay, Sunghoon, Yeji, you, and Jake. The Park Brothers ran the family business together while Yeji chose to travel the world, much like Jake did. You hear your name being called, causing you to look at Sunghoon next to you,

“Huh?”

“You ok? You looked so deep in thought.” You glanced behind you, looking at Heeseung now asleep in the backseat,

“Just thinking about some things is all.”

When you got to your house and started eating dinner, you couldn’t help yourself from glancing at Sunghoon every so often. You couldn’t deny that it felt nice to have a constant source of stability and comfort through him, but it wasn’t fair to him since he was spending so much time and taking so much effort to help you out given that you were a single mother and he had grown to become your best friend. The two of you were on your living room couch since he was spending the night and were watching a movie while Heeseung was asleep in his room. Suddenly, Sunghoon brought up a topic that you weren’t quite expecting him to but you weren’t surprised about it earlier.

“Jake’s back from Australia.” You set your cup of hot chocolate on the table and wrap the blanket tighter around you and lean your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder,

“I know.” It comes out mumbled as you keep your eyes on the screen, not quite wanting to talk about it but you knowing that you were going to have to face it eventually, nervousness now filled you.

“He opened up a cafe downtown, Jayla’s Cafe.”

“I know.”

“I’m going with Jay tomorrow.”

“Jake invited me too but I said I couldn’t go because of work.” It was a lie since tomorrow was your day off but Jake didn’t need to know that. Honestly, you weren’t ready to face Jake and you didn’t think you’d ever be. When you and Jake were younger, you fell in love but after high school, life happened and Jake chose to go to Australia while you decided to stay since you were learning how to take over Hybe Industries.

“You gotta tell him.”

“It’s not like I keep it a secret, like, people know I have a kid.” It was a dumb response and you knew it. Sunghoon called you out on it by saying,

“You don’t keep it a secret but you don’t actively acknowledge it either.” Sighing,

“Can we not talk about this today?” Or ever, you wanted to say.

“I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do. But he’s back now.”

The opening day of Jayla’s Cafe went way better than Jake expected if he was being honest with himself. Whether it was due to good marketing, pure luck, or Layla’s presence in the cafe that drew in so many customers, he wasn’t going to complain about it. He was more nervous now than he was in the morning because Jay and Sunghoon would be dropping by in a few minutes. It had been years since he had seen his old friends or been a part of “high society” as most would call it due to the status and wealth you all grew up with. He missed you the most and kind of hoped that you would’ve dropped by today. But things were different now, he knew. You two weren’t the little kids who fell in love and acted on that love in your teens. You were no longer the girl who’d yell at Jake for teasing you over something dumb, you were now the CEO of Hybe Entertainment and someone that young kids could look up to and aspire to be like. He was no longer the guy who’d hold your hand or give you a hug when you cried because you didn’t need that-- him anymore.

“I was the one who decided to head back to Australia,” Jake muttered to himself in an effort to somewhat justify the years that he hadn’t seen you or anyone else except for the few times Jay would come to Australia. The bell chiming signals to Jake that someone had walked in, confirmed at the sight of Jay and Sunghoon entering inside the cafe. While you had already told him that you wouldn’t be coming, his heart still sank a little at the lack of your presence here. Greeting the guys and setting out some pastries and drinks, the three talked and caught up on things. Somewhere down the line,

“Jake, can you connect my phone to the Wi-Fi real quick?” Sunghoon asked, handing Jake his phone,

“Yeah, sure man.” Taking Sunghoon’s phone, the phone screen was still open, a mistake Sunghoon was unaware he had made. Looking at the phone screen, Jake saw a photo of you and Sunghoon which wasn’t something that was surprising to him. What did surprise him was the sight of a little boy in between you and Sunghoon, Sunghoon’s smile the brightest he’s ever seen it before. As Jake hands Sunghoon his phone back after connecting it to the Wi-Fi, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell had happened in the years he’d been gone. But throughout the night and as the conversation went on… he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

↬ a/n:

now that tatts & cupcakes is over, meet cameras & caffeine !!

❦ written by riri ( @enhykkul​​ ) | main blog masterlist | blog navi

taglist status: open -- send an ask or comment !! ( if you comment, i respond under my main acct )​

taglist: @markleepooh | @ifvjay | @softnanaaaa | @dear-dreamie​ | @sunshineshouchan | @bloom-bloom-pow | @mykalon​ | @fairycob​ | @icywhatim​

[karamfilmare]

White Gold and Maple

Kazuha x reader

Dedicated to my lovely mutual for her birthday @ahtsuwu -- sorry it came so late. You deserve this!

Description: Kazuha is behaving oddly, and for what reason?

Content: fluff, humor (?), surprise birthday, Kazuha being just the best bean. Modern AU (I think), light swearing(?), mentions of a spouse passing away (don't worry it's not too sad),

A/N: Sorry if this is shorter than my usual pieces and not as detailed. I wanted to get a short piece out, I hope it's fine. Also, not edited or proofread, sooo oops.

Stirring from your sleep, you stuck a hand out to find your boyfriend and sneak in close--only to find the spot was unoccupied and cool. Lifting your head, you frowned at the absence.

"Kazuha?"

You swung your legs off the mattress and walked around, confused by the silence in your home. Until you heard some light humming.

Finding your way into the kitchen, the smell of warm maple wafted around you. You found Kazuha standing by the stove, his hair messily put up in a loose bun, as he cooked what appeared to be some breakfast. He did not appear to notice your presence yet, so you quietly walked up behind him and slipped your arms around his waist and leaned against him.

"Oh, I didn't know you were awake. I wish you'd sleep in a bit more, I was going to wake you when I was ready."

"But I missed you," you murmured, slowly breathing out a sigh of content into his back. "I'm glad to see you."

"Ok, go sit down, I'll bring the food over in a bit."

Sitting down at the stool at the counter, you propped your head up on your hands, watching him move about. He turned around, the rich scent of maple and pancakes filling the air. Setting down your portion, he continued to watch you eat, asking if he did a good job with them, before laughing at your enthusiastic nodding, since your cheeks were full of sweet fluff. Your morning had gone along well, with not too much trouble, before he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"With deep regret, I must leave to attend to some things, but it shouldn't be long, alright?"

"Already? Ok, good luck."

And soon enough, he was out the door, leaving you to clean up after the couple of dishes left from breakfast.

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

Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

Reluctant to get off the couch, you ambled to your phone on the nightstand of your room, seeing a text from Beidou.

"Call me."

"Really?" you wondered out loud, knowing Beidou wasn't really one for conversations in the morning. Shrugging, you

"Hey."

"Yo. Listen, can you swing by where I'm at? I'm bored and I need company. Ningguang is shutting me down again, saying she's busy or some shit, ya know, the usual."

"Uh, sure, that's fine. Just send me your location, I'll come by."

"Great! I'll text you the location. Don't be late."

Don't be late? Seriously? From Beidou? "Fine, 'captain', I won't hold your important self up."

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

"So, I didn't think you'd be a mall person, Beidou."

"Nah, I just felt like it today, though. So, are you doing anything for your birthday?"

"My wha--"

Oh.

"Crazy that you remembered. But no, nothing planned."

The dark-haired woman quirked an eyebrow up, letting out a small sound. "Well, alright. This'll be my gift to you then. Let's go."

She dragged you along the mall, going from shop to shop, usually checking out food, candies, booze, and some clothes. After indulging in some boba tea and candies, you passed by a quaint little shop that caught your eye.

"Wanna go in? Come on, you seem interested." Beidou encouraged you to enter the shop, and you both quietly walked along the little stands. Earrings adorned a turning stand, necklaces and colorful rings were in glass cases, engraved paperweights, and other such pieces filled the room. You noted that these pieces didn't have the cold, pristine look of big designer jewelry stores.

"Huh, they look handmade, don't they?"

"Oh yes, every piece you see here is handcrafted by my family," a new voice startled you, an older woman with strands of grey enhancing her light brown hair. "Sorry for sneaking up. You've a keen eye."

"They're lovely." Indeed they were, the meticulous attention to detail. The rings looked like they were braided in gold, the gemstones inlaid upon them glittered under the light. Chains were linked carefully, the pendants all unique in some fashion. These pieces had character, something you would not mind having every day on your person.

Something caught your eye--a white gold ring with your birthstones, all laid along a pattern around. Not an engagement ring by any means, but something you visualized adorning your finger on a daily basis.

No, I might come back later and purchase it sometime. If it's not there, it wasn't meant to be.

"Ah, this one? My son made it to commemorate his late wife for her birthday, which is today. She passed several years back, but he chose to never forget her. This year, he decided he would create this ring that was similar to the one he made for her on an anniversary of theirs." The woman's eyes turned down slightly, her smile falling a bit. "But don't worry, he made this piece so that someone may show their love to their partner once again. Would you like to try it on?"

You hesitated, but Beidou coaxed you to try it on, before switching her attention to her phone. The woman slipped the ring onto your ring finger, finding that it fit you perfectly.

A grin appeared on her face. "It suits you, as if it were made for you."

Staring at it for a moment, you felt the slight longing for it, not just because of its appearance, but for the story that came along with it. You shook your head before slipping it off. "I might come back sometime later and see if it's here. I don't have any way to pay for this at the moment, I apologize. But it is beautiful."

"No worries. It might find itself back to you in some manner."

Perhaps, but unlikely. Nodding your head, you trudged along out of the store, expecting Beidou to be behind you, only to find her still inside the store, talking to the owner of the shop. Several minutes later, she hurried out, a faint smile lingering on her lips.

"Don't ask."

"I-- alright."

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

You parted ways with Beidou shortly after, and just as you leave the mall, you receive a text from Yoimiya.

"Hey, I can't make it on time to pick something up, could you go to this location for me, please? I'll make it up to you, PROMISE!! <3"

Shrugging your shoulders, you replied asking for the address, to which she replied with a pinpoint of the location. You texted Kazuha where you were about to go, just in case he made it home before you.

Except, the location wasn't a building. It was a large tent on the top of a hill, away from town. You found a slip of paper and picked it up, wondering whether the person was inside.

What the hell is Yoimiya picking up over here? Is she doing illegal business? What is going on here?

Just before you began to spiral in your thoughts, the tent opened up, revealing a smiling Kazuha. "Well, I'm glad you could make it. Come on, you're just in time."

"Just in time for--"

He pulled you close to him, guiding you to the other side of the tent next to the tree. Motioning for you to sit down, he settled himself right next to you. "Have you read the paper?"

Shaking your head, you pulled the slip of paper you found, finding words on the page in Kazuha's pretty handwriting.

The universe was blessed this day

When the heavens opened up

and you descended on earth

To touch my life.

The stars remain in your eyes,

And I wish on every single one,

That I can be called

Yours.

"Kazuha..." you breathed out, your mouth not able to form the words, as your gaze turned to the beautiful man before you.

"Look up."

At his urging, you turned your face up to the night sky. Several beats passed, before a streak of light shot up, before breaking into a large burst of colors. Several more shot up, taking your breath away. The show of sparkles

"Is that--"

"I had a bit of help to set up this moment. I hope you liked it."

Silence settled in, realizing that he was so excited about your birthday all this time. So the sudden texts from Beidou and Yoimiya weren't just random, they were planned.

"Oh, one more thing." Kazuha searched a pocket and pulled out a small box, bringing your hand close. "I heard from Beidou that this caught your eye, and I couldn't let it slip. So..." The ring you found earlier appeared once again before you, settling onto your ring finger once more. "I got it as a promise for us."

The emotions that built up within you finally spilled, tears streaming down slightly. "Kazuha, I swear...I'm--I'm in bliss right now, just being here with you. I just..." You placed your hands on his face and pulled him in for a soft kiss, which was immediately reciprocated.

The tenderness of the moment cemented a new shift in the relationship, one marked with devotion, rich and sweet, like maple. A birthday like this? You would remember for the rest of your life.

[writing-in-april]

My Date with the President’s Daughter

Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Spencer POV)

Summary: Spencer has a date with the President’s daughter, who he’s been dating for a while in partial secret. He hasn’t seen her in person for a while so he’s had to settle for another form of communication.

A/N: Ok just to get this out of the way— this is not a politically charged fic, I don’t express my own political beliefs in this fic nor do I express my opinion on the beliefs of others. The president in this fic is entirely made up and I just thought it would be cool to release it on Inauguration Day like the nerd I am. I do not want a political debate in the comments, this blog is not meant for that. This fic is for fun and to make people a little happier in these trying times. Please respect my wishes. This was a really fun way to write a twist on Spencer dating someone famous and- I wonder if anyone can spot the West Wing reference I used 🤔Thanks to @spencers-dria again for always helping me out with my fics 🥰This is also apart of my unlinked fic series called Spencer Reid & Letters! Requests are open and thank you for reading!

Warning: Vague political talk, References to keeping their relationship secret earlier, Avoiding the paparazzi- that should be it.

Main Masterlist Spencer Reid & Letters Word count: 1.6k

She didn’t have to put her short little letter to me on the back of a postcard, but she always did it this way. I remember when she first told me why she did it. We were sitting cuddled up on my couch at the early start of our relationship. I had asked her why she always insisted she send her letters on the back of a tiny card, she would’ve had so much more room if she got out a piece of paper.

She said she got into the habit of sending them to her father whenever he was away on business. Her handwriting had been horrible as a child according to her and her father had suggested she try to fit all of her thoughts onto a postcard. So, now she sent all of her letters neatly handwritten with the smallest of letters, so small you could almost barely read them, on the back of a postcard.

The postcard I had gotten late today, delivered by one of the last people on duty this late at night, was a picturesque view of the White House. The grass bright green and the outside covered in pure crisp white, a statuesque image of American democracy. Now, she didn’t send this to me because she wanted to express her political views and patriotism in a postcard, it just so happened to be where her father lived.

The fact that she was the President’s daughter used to intimidate me a lot when I first met her. I hadn’t immediately connected the dots in my head that she was the first daughter when we first met, though I could tell I had seen her somewhere before. Though, my first assumption was that maybe she had been a regular at my favorite coffee shop, not the daughter to the President of the United States. Literally my biggest boss.

First time I met him was also my first time in the east wing; she had some help from her secret service detail to sneak me in through the back. I only ever nervously stutter when I’m in intimidating or stressful situations and I’m pretty sure I barely got a sentence out the first ten minutes after I had met him. Luckily, he did seem to like me, though I’m not really sure why. Y/N told me once it was because he found my intelligence extraordinary and my constant willingness to share facts endearing. I always blush when I remember that, she was always so sweet to me and the fact that her family loved me as well caused my heart to swell exponentially. I stared at the captured view for a few seconds longer before the dots had fully connected in my head, I may have an eidetic memory, but sometimes it took me a minute to get her subtle hints. She didn’t actually live at the White House, she had her own house in D.C. But, this postcard meant one thing. She’s home.

Each postcard she sent me had a picture of wherever she was while she was traveling the world, it was a small gesture that made me feel closer to her, I always tried to imagine I was there with her at every location she sent. She had been out of the country for at least a month on business and even before that we hadn’t seen each other for a while, I had been stuck on a long case that kept me away from her for half a month.

A month and a half, that’s how long it's been since I’ve had her in my arms. I turned over the card expecting to see it filled with more words than most people would think could fit on the back of a postcard to let me know when I could see her, but this was not the case. Instead, the back of the card contained less words than normal. Only the words- meet me at 10pm at our usual spot.

My body moved faster than my brain, getting up to pack up all my things to rush to our usual spot. My watch sat over my cardigan sleeve on my wrist and it blinked up at me letting me know I only had 30 minutes till I had to get to the other side of town.I still had some paperwork left, but enough that I could push it off till the next day. Once I had gotten all my stuff together I scurried over to leave through the glass doors.

“Are you heading home, Spence?” A voice from inside the bullpen called out startling me out of my thoughts, I had thought everyone had left for the night. I turned around to look at the owner of the voice, JJ, who had come back from the break room to finish her large stack of paperwork that still remained.

“Actually no- I have a date.” A small shy smile made its way onto my face, I still felt very shy when I talked about my relationship with the team. When I had first told them after around 8 months into our relationship, they had thought I was pulling their legs. Once they did realize that I was in fact, not bullshitting them as Morgan had suspected, the questions had immediately come down on me. The ogling at my relationship never really ceased in the months after it had come out to the team, and the rest of the world. We mostly still tried to keep it under wraps, but the fact that the press now knew about me after some photos got leaked from a date only made the team ogle even more.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to who you go on dates with, it’s like something out of a movie.” JJ joked, then yawning again and leaning her face into her palms. “Well- I still have a lot of paperwork to do, you go enjoy your night, Spencer. I know you haven’t seen her in a while.”

My mind had already begun to shift away from JJ as soon as she brought her up, I was practically vibrating in anticipation, I couldn’t wait to see her.

—-

The rare book store on the east side of Quantico had been my favorite for years, ever since I had moved out here from Vegas actually. So much so that the owners, an older couple named Margaret and Dan, both knew me by name and knew almost exactly what books I wanted every time. The both of them had immediately jumped at the chance when I had hesitantly asked them to let the both of us meet up here, I had been desperately trying to find a place outside of my apartment where we could meet up.

When I entered the shop through the back it was already deserted just for us, she must have contacted Maggie and Dan to ask them if we could have the store for the night. The store was packed full of the rare books the owners had both acquired over the years, ranging from old tales and poems written by Edgar Allan Poe, the dark brother’s Grimm tales, to almost any old book that you could think of. It was almost to the point where I thought maybe Maggie and Dan should upgrade to a bigger shop.

“Long time no see.” A voice piped up from the mostly dark corner where she sat in a dark green armchair only partially illuminated by a standing lamp. Broad grins broke out on both of our faces before we both ran to each other, engulfing ourselves into an overwhelming bear hug.

“I missed you so much you don't even know.” Tears prickled at the edge of my eyes, though I wasn’t afraid to admit that us being apart for so long made me tear up.

“I've got a pretty good idea, I missed you so much as well.” She sniffed and then sighed into the crook of my neck. I moved my hand up to cradle her head to try and bring her as close as possible to me, even though there was already not even an inch of space between the two of us.

A nagging thought was dancing around in my brain, the card was so short and abrupt. It wasn’t like her to not be long winded whenever she wrote to me, she even had a tendency to be worse than I was sometimes.

“Why was the card so short? You feeling ok?”

“I just couldn’t wait to see you… It’s been so long since I’ve seen you...” Her tone of voice made me sad, it had been so lonely for me as well when we were apart.  “I never want to be away from you for that long ever again.”

“Move in with me.” The words blurted out of my mouth before I could really think about my words. I didn’t care whether it would be feasible or not, I just knew I never wanted us to be apart for so long ever again.

“Well-“ I cringed a little at her words sensing a rejection, I worried that I had just screwed it all up by asking. However, again she surprised me, “We might need to get a new place to settle my father’s worries about security.”

I breathed out a breathy laugh of relief at her words, enveloping her into a bruising kiss, my worry and anxiety immediately melting away. I couldn’t wait for the next chapter of my life with the President’s daughter.

—-

Tag list (Message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

Spencer Reid & Letters Series:

@sierraraeck @90spumkin @whoreforthebau

[walkerismychoice]

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 36

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: NSFW (I didn’t intend it but it just happened

Summary: Liam finally clears the air with Constantine, and we go to the Fire and Ice Ball at Lythikos, the final social season even before Liam chooses his future Queen.

A/N: Umm, I don’t even want to know how many years it’s been since I updated, but it is with the encouragement of you readers that I was compelled to finish.  My tag list is probably way outdated and I’m sure I’ve missed some poeple who’ve asked to be tagged along the way. Feel free to let me know either way if you want to be tagged or removed from the list.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @jadedpixiescribbles @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2861

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

“Hello, Father.” Liam greeted Constantine as he walked into the hospital room. He noted the King's color was back to normal and he seemed in good spirits.

"My son, I knew you'd come!" Constantine reached towards Liam with arms outstretched.

Liam just shook his head and held up a hand to stop him. "This is not that kind of visit. I'm here because I know... I know everything."

"What-" Constantine choked out before a coughing fit ensued.

Liam fought the instinctual urge to comfort his father. "Enough with the theatrics. I know about Madeleine...about you threatening the show if they didn't help her win...as if me choosing the woman I plan to spend my life with is some political game to be won."

 "How did you find out? I gave strict orders that my demands were confidential."

Liam scoffed. "Seriously? I just told you I found out you tried to have the producers manipulate me into marrying a woman I don't love, and that's all you had to say for yourself?"

"You have to understand," Constantine pleaded. "Madeleine is what's best for Cordonia, and what's best for Cordonia is what's best for you."

"Unbelievable!" Liam felt the anger rising in his chest like a simmering pot ready to boil over. "You may have told yourself that to feel better about choosing your commitments to Cordonia over happiness, love, family... Maybe you’ve lied to yourself for so long you’ve actually started to believe it, but it's one hundred percent bullshit. I know I'll be a more effective leader if I get to choose the woman I want by my side, and that woman is Olivia."

Constantine's jaw dropped and there was a long pause before he gained his composure to protest. "Absolutely not. You know her family's history. I'd rather have you on the same page as me, but I am still King-"

"Save your breath," Liam shut him down. "You should know that your perfect candidate Madeleine has displayed some behavior quite unbecoming of a future queen, and it is all on film. I know Cordonians are generally flexible with their views on monogamy, but I don't think Madeleine sleeping with the host of the show while she's trying to compete for my affection will look good in anyone's eyes. She has been eliminated from the show and is no longer in the running. That leaves only Riley aside from Olivia, and I know you know what's going on there."

Constantine's face fell momentarily in resignation, but then he perked back up again. "Well, then you can bring back someone else. Kiara is quite lovely and is fit to play the part."

"Enough!" Liam practically shouted much too loud for the thin hospital walls. "Not that I owe you an explanation, but Olivia is stronger, smarter, and more capable of ruling a country than anyone you could hope to pair with me. You seem to forget that I am the son who stuck by you and am now the rightful and only heir to the throne. Your reign is coming to an end, and you have no choice but to accept my decision."

Unexpectedly, Constantine's demeanor changed, a sly grin creeping across his face. "My boy, I've always been a bit worried you were too soft to be king. However, seeing you stand up for yourself today gives me hope. I still don't approve of your choice, but I will no longer stand in your way."

Liam shook his head and let out an incredulous laugh, reeling from Constantine’s sudden change of course. "Bastien will take you back to the palace. We can talk more when I know it's not just the medicine that's gotten to your head."

-----

“Well, this place certainly explains a lot about Olivia.” Riley mused aloud as she scanned the ballroom. Ornate floor to ceiling windows with deep alcoves were surrounded by walls with intricate, gilded accents leading up to a hand-painted ceiling measuring at least 3 stories high. The grandeur of the space was both intimidating and beautiful at the same time, much like its owner.

“Has she shown you all the toys in her armory yet? That too says a lot about Olivia," Drake chuckled at his own joke.

Riley laughed along. “No, but she does constantly remind me she keeps a dagger hidden under her skirt. Are you sure Liam knows what he’s in for?”

"Heh. Better him than me, that's for sure. Liam's warm and fuzzy exterior can make him seem like a pushover, but he can hold his own when it matters. Olivia needs someone who can roll with her mood swings but still call her on her bullshit when needed."

"You know, I admit I had a little trouble wrapping my brain around Liam choosing Olivia, but when you put it that way, it makes sense. Now I suppose I need to find Kat so I can figure out if I need to dance with Liam or something. Ugh, I cannot wait until all these balls are over.

Drake almost doubled over laughing. "Oh, Bennett, I hate to break it to you, but this shit never ends. Next will be the coronation, then some charity gala, Liam's wedding...the list goes on. Welcome to your life as a noble woman."

Riley stared ahead blankly as a giant wave of realization washed over her. It was all so much, so fast. She'd never had time to think past the next day to consider this was all ending soon, and then what? Did she stay with her new-found family and live this life that was still foreign to her in so many ways? What about her life in New York? Sure, she didn't have much going on at the moment, but she still had her aunt Susan and best friend Sarah along with some good friends at work like Daniel. Becoming a therapist was still one of her goals, at least it was until the day she left for Cordonia. Now everything was so unclear, and she could hardly breathe.

Drake must have noticed her face looking some kind of way because he placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to an open doorway to a nearby balcony. "Why don't we get you some air before you go off and do your thing for the show?"

Once outside and around the corner of the wraparound balcony, Drake pulled Riley into his chest, holding her securely, and she was almost instantly calmed. All the what-ifs fell away, and it was just them. All she needed was the be with him, wherever that turned out to be, and everything else would fall into place.

But what if Drake didn't quite feel the same? They'd been talking as if they'd be together indefinitely, but in reality, they'd only known each other two months. The anxious fluttering in her chest started up again.

Drake pulled back to look her in the eyes. "Riley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. You know, we're both still half American. We can move back to the states....or uh, I mean you can move back to the states if that's what you want." His eyes darted bashfully to the ground.

Riley's face lit up, the nervous thumping in her chest giving way to excited butterflies. "I like the sound of 'we' better if that's what you really meant. You'd really move back to the U.S. with me? I mean I've hardly had the chance to think about what I want, so that may be irrelevant, but you seriously see a future with me?"

"I do." Drake smiled earnestly. "I'm sure anyone who knows me will think I've gone mad, but whether it means being in New York City and putting up with cramped apartments and way too many people, living a quieter, simple life in Texas, or stealing moments away at dreadful Cordonian events such as this, I know we can make our own happiness...together."

"Wow, the Drake Walker I met two months ago would not believe what's coming out of your mouth right now." Riley touched the back of her hand to Drake's forehead in jest. "Are you sure you aren't running a fever?"

"Haha, very funny." Drake swiftly but gently pushed Riley back again the stone wall. "I'm not feeling ill, but I know how to make your temperature rise.

"You pushing me against duchy walls is becoming a thing, huh? Must have really enjoyed the almost public sex last time."

"Possibly," Drake teased as he slipped his hand through the side-slit in her icy-blue gown, gently gliding his fingers up her thigh. Riley braced herself as Drake neared the place she wanted him the most. Goosebumps gave way to a burning need before she remembered where they were.

"Wait." She pushed a hand against his chest. "We're not exactly alone here, and we've gone to such lengths to keep this under wraps. Someone could walk out here at any moment."

Drake shrugged. "I know it may be a bit reckless, but honestly at this point, I don't care. I just want you."

Riley opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out before Drake swooped in for a searing kiss. She instantly melted into him, Drake continuing his earlier action and deftly plunging two fingers inside her, his eyes widening slightly in surprise when he noticed there was no fabric barrier to work around. A strangled moan escaped Riley's throat as he stroked the exact spot he knew always left her at his mercy.

Drake pulled back with a satisfied grin. "Do you want me to stop? Just say the word and we'll go back in right now."

Instead of answering, Riley yanked him by the collar and crushed her lips to his. Drake responded by hoisting her up and over to the balcony. He perched her atop the railing, one hand grasped firmly around her waist and the other making quick work of undoing his pants.

Teetering on the narrow ledge two stories high, Riley clamped her hand tightly to the railing on either side of her and Drake noticed. "I've got you Bennett, no need to worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm just doing my job after all," he said with a smirk.

She smiled at his reference to what was now an inside joke between them. But all joking aside, he always made her feel safe. She released her grip, flinging her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

Drake eased his cock free and Riley could tell how hard he was just by sight, the skin stretched taught from his perfect proportion of thickness and length. He lifted her dress and she couldn't wait any longer. She pulled him in and he took the invitation to thrust inside her. Even as wet was she was, his size created just the right amount of fullness and friction to take her breath away.

Riley moaned and gasped with each thrust, which in turn seemed to turn Drake on even more. The thrill of being up so high with nothing but him to hold her only added to her excitement and when he began rubbing circles over her clit with his thumb that was all it took to push her figuratively over the edge. She tightened around him everywhere, her orgasm eliciting immense heat and pleasure with every pulse, resulting in Drake picking up his pace until his own release followed shortly thereafter.

Drake carefully set Riley down before putting himself back together. "I'm almost a little disappointed we didn't nearly get caught this time."

"If I don't get back in there immediately, that's still a possibility." Riley had no idea how much time had passed but it was probably more than she thought. "Fuck, Kat is going to be pissed." Riley straightened her skirt and started towards the ballroom door.

"Wait!" Drake puller her in for a quick kiss. "I love you. Just so you don't forget."

Riley rolled her eyes but smiled. "You know you have nothing to worry about. If Liam's charms haven't wooed me yet, I think you’re safe. But I love you too. Now go do your job." She smacked him on the ass before hustling back to the ballroom, Drake following shortly thereafter.

As expected, Kat was frantic when Riley found her. “Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to meet up with me twenty minutes ago?”

Overhearing Riley’s scolding, Olivia smugly sidled up next to them. “I mean, I didn’t mind getting extra time with Liam, but you know Jo and Kat and there ‘ratings’, Olivia said while gesturing with air quotes. She scanned Riley from head to toe and then glanced over to Drake on the perimeter. “Ugh, I can tell you exactly what, or rather who she was doing. Gross. I guess that just makes my position more secure, but really, couldn’t you have waited until after my ball to fuck him?”

Riley sheepishly smoothed her hair and adjusted her dress. “I just needed some air, that’s all. I was having a moment.”

Olivia scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever you want to call it. Although I still cannot fathom why you chose Drake, I suppose I should be a little easier on you for eliminating yourself from the competition and allowing Liam to break free of his distraction of the shiny new object.”

“Aww, Olivia, that’s so sweet. Next thing you know we’ll be best friends,” Riley replied sarcastically.

 “I don’t know about friends...but I do dislike you less than the rest of them.” Olivia tried and failed to hold back a smile.

“I’ll take it,” Riley said with a laugh before turning to Jo. “Okay, now tell me where I need to be.”

Jo set Riley up with Liam on the dance floor. It still wasn’t hard to pretend to be into Liam because it wasn’t all pretend, but there was no lingering pining between them.

“Well, I spoke to my father this morning.” Liam spun Riley around and brought her back to face him.

“Finally!” Riley exclaimed. “How did that go?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it to be completely honest, but it went surprisingly well. I told him I knew everything, and he no longer had a say in my decision. He tried to argue with me at first, but somehow something I said made him respect me. He still may not agree with my choice, but I think this is finally all over! I am free to choose who I want without any threat or blackmail hanging over my head.

Riley pulled Liam in and hugged him tightly. “That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you, and for all of us.” The weight on Riley’s shoulders was suddenly ten times lighter. She hadn’t let herself think too deeply about how much was at stake, but now that the air was clear, she realized how stressed she had been. “Now all that’s left is for you to tear my heart to pieces on national television, and you get your fairy tale ending.”

Liam chuckled. “I’ll try to let you down easy.”

-----

Drake stood in his usual position off the side of the dance floor. This may not be the last of these events he’d have to endure, but at least it should be the last time he’d have to stand on the sidelines watching Riley dance with someone else. He was secure in what they had, but it still didn’t stop that twinge of jealously seeing her and Liam together talking, touching, and having fun. But it wasn’t a bad thing that his best friend and girlfriend get along so well. Girlfriend...that’s the first time he’d used that term for anyone he’d “dated”, even if only in his head. It was hard to believe everything was falling into place.

Drake took his eyes off Riley to scan the perimeter. What he saw didn’t immediately register as out of the ordinary, but then he quickly recalled this person walking towards the dance floor wasn’t supposed to be there.

“Bastien, check out three o’clock.” Drake altered Bastien via his radio earpiece. “How did she get in here without security clearance?”

“I don’t know.” Bastien replied. “I’ll check with the other guys to see who let her in. Keep an eye on her.”

Drake watched in concern as Madeleine marched towards the dance floor. She’d been banned from the rest of filmed events after her stunt. Not wanting to let her cause a scene, Drake was about to stop her from getting any closer, when she pulled out an unmistakable object. She had a gun and it was pointed right at Riley and Liam.

Before Drake could alert the rest of the team, people started to scatter. He heard a familiar click and knew he had to disarm Madeleine immediately, but it was too late. A shot went off and he didn’t hesitate. Drake dove between the bullet and his two best friends on the dance floor, and that would be the last thing he remembered before he hit the floor.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Optigami

For the first time this season, we're actually acknowledging what happened at the end of the last season. Of course, it's the thirteenth episode chronologically, so you can tell the writers really wanted to strike while the iron was hot.

Let's get into the ninth (chronologically the thirteenth) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Optigami.

We start off with Nathalie recounting the events of “Miracle Queen” to Gabriel, where Chloe exposed the identities of the temp heroes, which is kind of odd considering they were both there. Then again, it's entirely possible Gabriel forgot what happened given we're literally halfway through the season chronologically. According to Nathalie, she created a Sentimonster the very next day to spy on the heroes. After a lot of surveillance by the Sentimonster, named Optigami, all Nathalie and Gabriel really found out was that the heroes were just regular teenagers who occasionally got a Miraculous from Ladybug without even learning her identity, all while we learn she continued to give Miraculous out to the heroes despite the risk to their safety.

Okay, a few questions here. First, why the hell didn't Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth or Mayura try something like this from the beginning? It took you two lucking out in finding out the identities of seven heroes to think about spying on your enemies? Second, Mayura created Optigami the next day? Wasn't she in a lot of pain as a result of using the Peacock for a whole season? At least when she created a Sentimonster in the New York special, it was set a vague amount of time after “Miracle Queen”. Third, Ladybug is seriously recruiting the same heroes again after the rules that she imposed onto Chloe? You know, the person who couldn't use the Bee Miraculous again because of the risk to her safety, and ultimately betrayed Ladybug because she hated the rule? Seriously, the video footage shows Ladybug recruiting Ryuko, someone whose identity Shadowmoth already knew before “Miracle Queen”, so this makes even less sense. If Chloe doesn't get her Miraculous after exposing her identity to the whole world, the same should apply to the other heroes too. If they wanted to make Chloe an exception, all they had to do was have Ladybug bench Queen Bee because she didn't trust Chloe in her civilian life. This just makes Ladybug come off as a hypocrite who serves to justify Astruc's warped mentality that Chloe doesn't deserve a Miraculous even though she lost hers for the same reason as the others.

Nathalie calls Optigami a failure, but Gabriel actually uses his brain for once and comes up with a plan to take out all of the temp heroes at once by putting them in a situation where Ladybug is forced to recruit one of them in order to stop an Akuma. He calls Audrey Bourgeois, a major fashion magazine writer and praises her idea to give a monthly award to a fashion icon, and Gabriel says “there's no better introduction than giving it to his son”, so I'm not sure if he told Audrey to give the award to Adrien, or if he already got the award and Gabriel was just capitalizing on the chance.

So we cut to Marinette and Alya hanging out in the former's room, and surprise, surprise, Marinette is gushing over Adrien. It isn't a love story if there's a single scene not talking about the love interest according to Astruc.

Yeah, despite not being on the list of targets, Marinette got a ticket to the award show because the writers weren't sure how else they could work her into the plot. The Kwamis ask if they can come along, forgetting about the fact that they need to be a secret or be with an owner (guessing Marinette learned her lesson after “Furious Fu”). I'm starting to think I was a little too harsh on Master Fu considering he managed to put up with these godlike idiots for 176 years.

Alya and Trixx, the Fox Kwami, bring up a decent point that now that Alya knows she's Ladybug, she can take a more active role in helping her as Rena Rouge if she had the Fox Miraculous full-time, while Marinette points out the fact that it's too risky for anyone but her to hand out Miraculous. This is brief, but I like this little disagreement here. While I think Marinette could have brought up the fact that Shadowmoth knows Alya's identity in her argument, both sides still make a good point, and this will come into play later on, for better or for worse.

So Marinette and Alya head out to the award party where they meet up with Adrien, Kagami, Luka, Kim, Max, and Nino, with Alya doing a secret handshake with him that I'm sure won't be important later on. We also get a hilarious scene of Alya once again trying to force Marinette into an elevator with Adrien with the explicit intent to have her get closet to Adrien, while she unsurprisingly freaks out, leading to some brief Unfunny Marinette Slapstick.

So much for Marinette growing after the second umbrella scene.

Optigami is set up, and Shadowmoth creates a Sentimonster of the man hosting the award ceremony, and takes the opportunity to do what we've all wanted to do since Audrey's first appearance in late 2018.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you, Gabriel Agreste. You're the real MVP of this episode.

So Shadowmoth sends out an Akuma to akumatize Audrey into his “magnum opus”, Style Queen, once again (Audrey is also implied to be willingly akumatized like Chloe in “Queen Banana”). And since the titular Sentimonster plays a big role in Shadowmoth's plan this episode, I think now's a good time to talk about Optigami.

Optigami has a simple design, a butterfly colored like Mayura, but I like the role it plays. It has the power to hide in any solid object and observe the environment like a camera Nathalie watches, all while Style Queen chases after the temp heroes and turns them into piles of gold dust. Whether that's because she's been powered up by Shadowmoth or because the animators can't afford to create new models of the characters as gold statues isn't clear. It still really shows the writers are taking advantage of the concept of Sentimonsters as support for Akumas outside of more muscle.

So Kagami tries to distract Style Queen while Adrien runs, and she is the first to be taken out. Chloe then tells Style Queen where Ladybug went, but she gets targeted because she laughed at her mother earlier, and then tries to use Zoe as a human shield before getting blasted. Oh, thank God. I thought Chloe was going to appear in an episode where the writers didn't remind the audience how much of a terrible person she is and anyone who supports her is just as bad.

Marinette and Adrien both run off to transform, but get into the same elevator together, which then gets broken thanks to Style Queen's interference. This leads to an interesting setup where neither of them can transform and hope their partner will save them, leading to some real tension. There's also thankfully little to no stammering from Marinette in these scenes. It's almost like the writers only have her struggle to talk with Adrien so they don't actually have to write scenes like this. Alya briefly teases Marinette for saying she's stuck in an elevator with Adrien before realizing she's trapped in an elevator with a civilian and can't transform.

After Max and Luka get taken out, Marinette calls a phone she set up near the Miracle Ball to call the Kwamis, pretending to talk to the fire department and secretly tells them to send Kaalki to help her, but Adrien sees Optigami spying on them in the elevator, so Marinette is forced to hang up. Marinette and Adrien are about to transform and reveal themselves to each other, but because neither of them are on the list and because Shadowmoth felt like actually being a decent father today, Optigami retreats with Style Queen, who then takes out Kim, leaving only Alya and Nino left.

Marinette tells Alya to call the Kwamis, but while she does so, she gets a call from Nino, who is soon taken out by Style Queen and... is replaced... by an... evil... doppelganger... The eighth one in four seasons...

The only question I have is how did Shadowmoth create two Sentimonsters in the same day? Did he recharge offscreen? Either way, he sends “Sentinino” after Alya to lure her out, but Kaalki arrives and portals her to Marinette's room, leading to the funniest joke of the episode.

Alya takes the Fox Miraculous and transforms into Rena Rouge and creates an illusion of Ladybug to distract Style Queen while she meets up with Marinette with the Bee Miraculous, but she decides to take the Turtle Miraculous even though Marinette didn't tell her to just to be safe.

Rena Rouge meets up with Sentinino and gives him the Turtle, alerting Shadowmoth to the fact that Alya may have a bigger role than he anticipated. Sentinino transforms into Carapace (or would a more accurate term be Sentipace?) while Optigami hides in the Turtle Miraculous, leading to another interesting conflict. If Style Queen gets Ladybug's Miraculous, Shadowmoth wins, but even if Ladybug wins, Sentipace can swoop in and steal Ladybug's Miraculous when her guard is down. This is David Xanatos levels of planning here.

Rena Rouge escorts Adrien out of the elevator via one of Kaalki's portals, and Marinette transforms into Ladybug before unifying with the Bee Miraculous into Ladybee.

Ignoring the creepy look on her face, I think Ladybee has a pretty good design. I think the black and gold go well with her suit, and the ponytail with the gold streaks is a nice touch. I'm not sure if it's referencing Queen Bee's design, but I like it, as well as the slight antennae on her head. I still prefer Dragonbug's design, but I can see why so many fans love this one too.

Ladybee is surprised Sentipace is there, but accepts his help anyway. Ladybee summons her Lucky Charm, a compact mirror, but when looking around, she doesn't see how to use the Lucky Charm with Sentipace as he isn't highlighted in her vision like certain objects/heroes that play a part in stopping an Akuma. Ladybee uses Venom, and with Sentipace's Shelter, manages to tank Style Queen's blasts and stun her before de-evilizing her.

Cat Noir tries to cataclysm the golden shield Style Queen placed around the building, but shows up too late, being surprised at the presence of Rena Rouge and Sentipace. He jokes about it, but this will somewhat come into play in future episodes.

Ladybug prepares to throw the compact mirror to use Miraculous Ladybug and fix the damage, but through the mirror, sees Nino fail to do the secret handshake with Alya. Ladybug pulls a John McClane and swings off the top of the building and tells Cat Noir to use his Cataclysm to destroy the Turtle Miraculous, releasing Optigami, and giving Nathalie a major headache. Shadowmoth undoes the creations of Optigami and Sentinino and retreats.

Alya is naturally upset that she screwed up and almost let Shadowmoth find out Ladybug's identity, but then, well...

Like with “Gang of Secrets”, I'm very mixed on this ending. Both Alya and Marinette make good points here. Alya knows she almost let Shadowmoth win, but Marinette points out how invaluable Alya was today and realizes how helpless she was doing a lot of things on her own. Even if Alya didn't give the Turtle Miraculous to Sentinino, Marinette still had to face the possibility of revealing herself to Adrien. Like it or not, she needs someone to help her more, and Alya is the only one able to fill that position.

The problem I have is that because of how Marinette phrases that sentence, it comes off like Alya is being rewarded for what happened this episode. I get she helped, but I just find it weird that Marinette doesn't feel a little uncomfortable trusting Alya more after going behind her back and almost screwing up the entire mission in the process. I think the scene could have worked if Marinette was a little more stern towards Alya and realized she had no choice but to give her the Fox, creating a little tension between the two as a result.

So the episode ends with a post-credits scene where Gabriel and Nathalie realize they need to focus more attention onto Alya due to her connection to Ladybug.

But yeah, this was honestly a really good episode. It's become my favorite this season.

The plot has a fair amount of suspense and tension, most of it derived from the very clever plan Shadowmoth has this time, taking full advantage of the repaired Peacock in order to make what was already a very powerful Akuma even more of a threat. There were jokes, but unlike in other episodes that focus on humiliating Marinette or interrupting the tension, they're well-placed. The same goes for the elevator scene. The writers easily could have made Marinette stammer all of her words around Adrien, but for once, they realized that they needed to have her actually interact with him in order to maintain the tension of the episode.

Granted, there are still some flaws, like Marinette really had no reason to be invited to the award ceremony. All they really had to do was have Adrien invite her himself, which would justify her eager reaction at the beginning. It's also strange that nobody brings up the fact that all of Adrien's friends who were invited were temp heroes. I've already gone over the problem with timeline at the beginning as well as the ending and I plan to talk about Rena Rouge's partnership with Ladybug next time.

Overall, this was still a really good episode. Even the evil doppelganger plotline had an interesting twist to it. What's the next episode about again? What? Another evil doppelganger of Nino?

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 1-16: 命运的拐点 Destiny’s Turning Point Translation

“Destiny is like a gust of wind… Red leaves flutter, flying away in the face of it.  And it is when the winds pick up ― That you meet once more…”

“Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

I failed. And right when I was just a step away from becoming the champion too.

I felt an odd sense of heaviness overwhelm me during the long time it took for the curtain call to end, something that I’d never felt before. It was sort of a mixture of both an inexplicable sense of dissatisfaction and suspicion.

I don’t know how or when I got myself off the stage.

Sariel’s words echoed in my mind. He said that I’d completely disregarded the essence of what it means to be a Fashion Designer… But what exactly does he mean by that?

All the contestants walking in front of me were relieved beyond measure that it was all over now, but the more I thought about it, the more confused I got. I walked towards a quieter place alone.

The courtyard garden at the foot of the corridor appeared serene and mysterious at night. The bright moonlight filtered down, shining upon the flowers and leaves alike. The night breeze carried along with it the faint fragrance of flowers.

❖☆———————————★❖

I lowered my head and glanced at the potted plant by my feet. It was a flower yet to fully bloom, with many smaller flower buds hidden beneath its wide leaves, which were gently rubbing against my ankle.

It was akin to a small pet that was showing affection to its owner in a bid to comfort them.

Despite knowing that the notion of comfort was merely an illusion caused by the night breeze, I still couldn’t help but feel my heart warm.

MC: Thanks…

It was then that I heard the squeak of the glass doors opening to admit another.

Illuminated under the moonlight, the lanky figure gradually walked closer

❖☆———————————★❖

A crisp white suit and a pair of icy eyes.

MC: Sariel…

He looked a little appalled to see me here, but that flicker of emotion was soon concealed.

Sariel didn’t speak. He directed his gaze past me, staring at the plants within the garden. His eyes reflected the faint moonlight, appearing as beautiful as coloured glass.

He looked surprisingly serene here, compared to the frostiness he’d displayed back up on stage earlier.

However, the cold comment he’d given me immediately flashed back in my mind just as I was musing about this.

❖☆———————————★❖

Sariel: You absolutely do not understand the meaning of your given theme at all.

❖☆———————————★❖

My head had been in a mess back then, so I totally missed the chance to enquire further about it.

Perhaps his being here right now was fate’s way of giving me another chance to do so.

MC: M-Mr. Sariel…!

Sariel silently turned his gaze over. His eyes were as calm as ever, the only difference was his slightly furrowed eyebrows.

MC: I’m (Y/n), one of the participating Fashion Designers of the contest today.

Sariel: I know.

MC: I really like your works, and I’ve always seen you as my role model.

Sariel: So?

MC: So…

★Night Choice: Read his body language and remain silent. 

I lapsed into silence the moment I met his gaze.

That look on his face spoke volumes. He didn't even bother hiding the fact that anything I said would fall upon deaf ears.

Sariel: Are you presuming that I'll understand just what it is you're trying to express in your work if I give you a chance to explain yourself?

I looked at him in surprise, nodding.

The sides of his lips immediately curled up into a sneer.

Sariel: The organizer prepared hundreds upon hundreds of material choices. You clearly had the choice of choosing a more suitable material, yet you still used the most unfitting material: 80 twist Black Chiffon.

MC: That's because I wanted to express the tenacity of "Fashion Designers".

Sariel: You're only creating this to realize your idea.

Sariel: Be it high twist Black Chiffon, or those blasphemous roses that clash so terribly bad that it leaves people speechless...

Sariel: Everything merely falls under your own "Design Ideas", with no consideration whatsoever about whether this is the right way to go about making it into an actual product.

☆Light Choice: Explain your design choice

MC: So, I want to know why you think I don’t understand the theme. I hope I can explain just what the ideas that went into my design are.

I originally thought that he’d outright refuse me, but he never interrupted me, and neither did he leave. He’d only watched me calmly as I rattled off. Does this mean that he acquiescences with me?

I mustered up my courage and started rattling off my explanation.

MC: I chose to use Black Chiffon with the highest twist available, 80 twists high, not just because it can attain and support the design I wanted to go for.

MC: It was also because I felt that it was a good representation of the tenacity of Fashion Designers.

MC: And as for the rose ornaments… I chose it because it represents why I initially wanted to become a Fashion Designer.

MC: I don’t know others will go about interpreting what the term “Fashion Designer” means, but to me, I feel that…

MC: There is no one answer to this, and there’s also no way one can take it too far in any whichever direction.

After hearing me out, the sides of Sariel’s lips curled into a blatant sneer.

Sariel: So, you think that the problem here lies with the way you think, and hence, your idea. That’s why you’re trying so hard to explain and make it clear to me, am I right?

MC: …Is it not?

Sariel: Your sheer lack of understanding is astounding.

Sariel: 80 twist Black Chiffon might be able to support and display the design you wish for it to. But for something that’s being made into a top hat, this high twist amount is the most unsuitable for the task.

Sariel: You’ve chucked the elegance aside, completely disregarded the volume it is supposed to have, and most importantly, it is utterly uncomfortable to wear.

Sariel: There are better ways you could represent “Roses” if you so wished. You shouldn’t have forcibly added this artefact that clashes with the whole outlook of the piece to your work.

Sariel: Only mediocre people will wish to attain recognition through their explanations.

Sariel: Everyone out there will only be able to grasp what it is you’re trying to convey through your work.

Sariel: In your work… That’s if we can even call that a piece of work…

Sariel: I don’t know why you have placed so much sentiment into it. So much, that it has totally lost its purpose as a hat.

He was surprisingly serious when it came to talking about design itself, much unlike the arrogance and iciness he’d displayed back on stage.

Sariel: Designers ought to know just what the product is being created for.

Sariel: You do not yet hold the qualities of what it takes to be a good Designer.

Sariel: Rather than daydreaming all day, thinking about how you can soar higher, perhaps you’d be better off first learning how to walk.

His words were like a bullet, piercing me right through the heart. I stared at him, stunned and unable to form a single word.

He was absolutely right. I’d always gone straight for the concept. Whilst my heart wanted to explore new concepts within the given theme, it’d also ignored the most important thing.

I bowed to him in utter seriousness.

MC: I understand. I will do my best to correct that. Thank you.

Sariel: … What you intend to do from now on is none of my concern.

It was as if he’d reverted back into the judge, atop a pedestal and far out of reach. A completely different person from the one who’d been seriously discussing my design with me just moments earlier.

Watching his retreating figure, I felt nothing short of conflicted.

It was almost as if I’d gotten the answer to the question that had been nagging at the back of my mind for some time now in this unpleasant exchange of ours.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

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