#if it doesn’t end with the 3 of them just dog piling at the end I’m gonna be disappointed

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I'm one of those people who can tolerate Charles and Camilla's existence. What I find infuriating sometimes is this seasonal pr about how they are the greatest couple who had the best love story ever as if it wasn't built on infidelity.

I also side eye those people who support such story

Since I’m getting dog-piled in the comments asks (sorry - had a brain fart) here’s what I actually think of Charles and Camilla:

1. Yes, infidelity is bad. But if we’re condemning Charles and Camilla for cheating, we better have the same ire and condemnation for Diana cheating too. She doesn’t get a pass just because a portion of the internet has sainted her or because she’s dead. I mean, Diana literally harassed one of her boyfriends after he dumped her! There was a police investigation! (Yes, she was still married to Charles at the time.)

2. Yes, Charles shouldn’t have retaliated to Diana’s cheating by having his own affair.

3. But at the same time, this is what the aristos and the BRF have been doing for generations - having discreet extramarital relationships/affairs when the marriage has run its course. So I don’t fault Charles or Diana for that. It’s simply just what their kind has done. The issues here are that a) the press and press attention was unlike anything anyone had ever experienced before in history so of course things weren’t going to be as well-hidden as it may have been in the past and b) the personalities and behavior of Charles and Diana were so similarly toxic on certain matters - “neither can live while the other survives” comes to mind in that they were both so consumed by the press attention, wanting to control what people thought, and wanting to be seen was the victor - that they couldn’t co-exist in the spotlight together. So that fighting, coupled with their media friendliness and the new media’s pervasiveness (holy shitake mushrooms, I forgot I was supposed to give you guys that analysis. I’ll work on that this weekend.), blew the doors off this dirty little secret about who what the aristos do in their spare time.

4. Glad the marriage worked out for Charles and Camilla and their relationship is strong. But there’s no need to shove it in our faces with “the best love story to ever love story” or their “coronation-as-the-wedding-we-never-had” PR. It’s gross when Harry and Meghan do it. It’s gross when Charles and Camilla do it.

4.5 - I don’t like that Charles keeps saying “My wife and I” in his statements. Dude, she has a name. Use it. Stop making her your possession.

5. I actually have a bigger issue with Charles supporting Camilla’s home decorator sister than I do with Charles and Camilla’s affairs and their marriage of 20 years. If there’s anyone else in the royal-adjacent circle who can rudely STFU and go away, it’s Annabelle. I’m sure she’s a perfectly nice lady, but come the fork on.

6. Humans are messy complicated people. Real life isn’t black and white. Opinions and perspective can - and should - change as we learn new things, as we grow older, as we have new experiences, as we see our parents for their actual selves, as we see our celebrities and leaders for who they really are instead of the PR images they put forth.

Meaning just because William was angry when he was 16 doesn’t mean he’s required to be angry for the rest of his life. That’s not healthy (case in point: Harry). We do know that William went to therapy for Diana’s death, but I guarantee you that’s not the only thing he talked about in therapy and it’s not the only thing he worked to heal from.

At the end of the day, William appears to be indifferent to Camilla. His family has a relationship with her and his children - or Charlotte, at least - is close enough that she can cuddle up to Camilla for a photograph and Camilla lets them poke in her handbag for candy. Yes, William did publicly say once that “Camilla is not my children’s grandmother” but that is not a prohibition on Camilla being in their lives. It just means that William sees Camilla as his father’s wife and doesn’t see her as having the same relationship with his family that Charles does. Which is a very perfectly normal thing for an adult child of divorced parents to do. But here’s the thing: he’s not getting in the way of letting his kids forge their own bond with Camilla, however and whatever it looks like.

[amamisa]

SIXTY-FOUR EQUALS SIXTY-FIVE!

RANPO EDOGAWA ⋮ BUNGO STRAY DOGS

premise. ranpo loves to give you all sorts of little riddles, but this one might have you stumped the most out of all of them.

story notes! fem!reader. fluff! reader works as part of the ADA office staff. animated dividers by @/cafekitsune!

love, misa ‹3 if you know what the title is referencing, ily! also, reblogs, comments and interactions are vrie appreciated!

“. . . Pardon?”

Ranpo looks to you with a pointedly smug grin playing on his face, hands relaxedly folded behind his head as he leans back in the ADA office’s chair. It creaks beneath him as he plants his feet atop the mahogany desk and swivels around slowly, a sign that you should probably get the seat oiled soon.

“It’s simple, is it not?” He asks and you slowly shake your head no, mouth slightly agape when he starts to sigh, repeating his prior statement.

“Sixty-four equals sixty-five, and that’s that!”

You blink a few times, hoping that the information sinks in a little more inside of your beain just long enough that you can even begin to process whatever he means.

The words play back in your mind like an old VHS tape, abruptly coming to a halt when you can’t fall into a proper, conclusive or logical answer that would make sense in any normal situation.

“That’s . . . false,” you begin to argue, albeit a bit unsurely as you have no idea what to even say in the moment. Your mouth moves faster than your brain as you tell him the only logical thing you can think of.

“If sixty-four equalled sixty-five than it would be sixty-five and not sixty-four.”

Ranpo lets out a laugh, only telling you that “You’re wrong,” and for a second you look around the ADA office wondering if there were any cameras filming the two of you. You find that the other office clerks are merely seated at their own desks though, watching the spectacle between you and Ranpo go down, and a little amused at your bewilderment.

You’d think that for a man who is labelled as the greatest detective in all of Yokohama (and quite possibly the entire world once you took into account his inherent genius and lack of an ability), that much would make sense for someone like him.

Surely he couldn’t have said a more incorrect statement than that with such confidence in himself.

But no, of course not.

It’s Ranpo you’re dealing with, and he says a lot of odd little phrases and sayings just to mess with your head sometimes. It started since your first day with the ADA, it’s been years now and he’s still going too.

He doesn’t show any signs of stopping soon either.

(“You just look so funny with your face all scrunched up in thought!” He once told you after a particularly difficult riddle that had you stumped for hours on end until the end of the work day, afterwhich you realized the answer was unfathomably easy once he had revealed it to you.

Nobody else in the ADA could’ve gotten it though, so it saved you at least some of your dignity.)

You assume that this must be another one of those cryptic riddles he’s thrown your way, maybe a test to see if you’ve somehow managed to improve from last time. An inkling of hope swells inside your chest, hoping that today is the day you finally manage to answer correctly to one of Ranpo’s mysterious riddles.

Setting down the bowl of candies in your hands on his desk, you stand in thought for a moment, scouring your brain for anything that could relate to the riddle as Ranpo delightedly digs into the newfound treats, appearing blissful to the mental agony he loves to put you through sometimes.

The little dish clinks against his fingernails as he searches through the pile of sweets for his favourites at the bottom, the sound of the plastic unwrapping in tune with the beat of the ticking in your brain while you think over his words from earlier.

He gave no set up, no punch line, no nothing at all. There wasn’t any indistinguishable context to the riddle-like words that you could recall, it was only—

“Sixty-four equals sixty-five . . .” Ranpo hears you mutter underneath your breath, and his lips curl up in delight as he munches on a decadent chocolate truffle, filled with sticky caramel and generous bits of toffee.

The caramel sticks to his teeth, with the toffee clinging to the sides of his tongue and the roof of his mouth as he chews away at the treat, patiently watching while you continue to talk to yourself, still thinking over his words from earlier.

“Could it be a math riddle? No, that’s not possible though if we’re going by technical math terms and rules . . . Maybe something to do with physics? But how could anything simultaneously be sixty-four and sixty-five?”

Ranpo’s mischievous grin only continues to grow as you remain oblivious to his watchful eyes, and his gaze scans over your features, wordlessly taking in your appearance.

Your knitted brows, the way you subconsciously pout your lips whenever you’re in deep thought, your crossed arms, all while unknowingly talking to yourself as you piece together the clues.

Ranpo sees it all as clear as day. And he finds it unbelievably cute.

“Maybe it’s about hex codes from the colour wheel, since one colour can look different depending on the background it’s placed over. It could have less to do with the numbers themselves than the meaning or history behind them—”

“Are you done yet?” You’re brought back to reality by the sound of Ranpo’s voice interrupting your thoughts, head perking up as you’re met with the sight of his nougat stuffed cheeks. All puffed out and full of sugar as he holds back a laugh once he sees how quickly your face softened from it’s previously hardened features.

“You were taking forever to solve that one! And it’s really not that hard to begin with!”

“Speak for yourself,” you scoff, taking one of the chocolates from the bowl and unwrapping it for yourself. The plastic crinkles beneath your fingertips, you stuff the wrapper in your pocket before popping it into your mouth.

The caramel sauce encased in the hard chocolate shell explodes when you crunch down on it, a sweet little victory to make up for the quizzical hurdles you’re put through on a regular basis, courtesy of the man sitting right across from you.

“You’re Yokohama’s greatest detective, it’s obvious that these sorts of riddles come naturally to you,” you wholeheartedly confess, savouring the light cocoa and sweet, subtly coconut flavours that coat your tongue. “I’m not like you, Ranpo. Nobody in the ADA is, what takes us twelve weeks to solve you can answer in twelve seconds.”

“Awee, really?” He giggles, swiping more of the little candies from the bowl on his desk. He seems to have missed the original point entirely by now, as he motions for you to continue, “Go on, tell me more about how great I am!”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, maybe you shouldn’t have gassed him up so much during your little acknowledgement speech. Though with the cases he’s solved in his repertoire, you really can’t argue against that title of his.

“No, you’ve had enough of that from Kunikida and Atsushi just this morning alone.”

A small pout graces Ranpo’s lips as you sigh, ignoring the kicked puppy eyes he gives you while walking back to your desk, continuing to mutter underneath your breath the same words that will probably leave you stumped for the next few days on end.

“Sixty-four equals sixty-five?”

Ranpo cranes his head as he eats away at the rest of his candy stash, watching you immediately turn to one of your co-workers from his own work space to ask them the same question Ranpo gave you, inquiring about any clues they might have as to the answer.

“No, there’s gotta be an answer,” he overhears when your colleague shrugs their shoulders, simply telling you that whatever Ranpo says is probably just a load of gibberish meant to mess with your mind.

“Just— just give me anything you can think of, okay? I’ll solve one of his riddles one day.”

The sight has Ranpo smiling behind the back of his hand, eyes crinkling at the corners with glowing cheeks when you sees you bring out one of your notepads from the desk drawer’s, clicking your pen as you begin to write down any guesses you might have to tell him later.

Truth be told, unlike the rest of the spontaneous mind games Ranpo pulls on you— this one has no actual meaningful answer. At least, not one that you’d understand at the moment if he were to tell you it’s solution.

But despite that looming factor always casting it’s dark shadow onto you, the thought of Ranpo giving you a riddle truly impossible to solve has never really crossed your mind.

Otherwise, you would very easily give up solving them after just a moment of contemplation.

Ranpo’s noticed though that you tend to wallow on them for days at a time unless he comes clean and tells you the answer in it’s entirety, letting his silly and easily misconstrued words stew inside your head during your lunch breaks and slow times at the ADA where you’ll maybe sometimes bound up to him excitedly with a guess as to what you think the answer is.

It’s charming how much thought you put into your solutions, and admittedly you’ve gotten quite close a few times to figuring them out all on your own. Ranpo’s always impressed with whatever you come up with, even if it’s outlandishly ridiculous or nowhere even close to the actual answer itself.

It’s really your explanations and logic behind them that he likes, with some of the ideas you bring up for splutions are those that he hasn’t even thought of beforehand until you ask him if they’re right.

(Sometimes he wants to cut your little game short and just give you the win for once if your guess is creative enough.

But where’s the fun in that?)

He’ll give you more of these up until the day you leave the ADA (though he hopes that’s not anytime soon) if it means he gets to see that delightful little confused but hopeful expression you make while deep in thought.

Your persistence in finding out the answer on your own until you’ve been truly worn out by him is also admirable.

Because while you’re always just a bit confused by all the different riddles, puzzles and play-on-words he hounds on you each day, he finds that you’ve yet to actually reject his proposal to solving them, never even considering walking away from his absurdity unlike with most people he knows if he asked them the same.

He prays it’ll stay that way too.

Otherwise, who else would he have to fawn over in secret?

Ranpo deduces that while you may be clever (anyone who works at the ADA is, it’s basically a requirement when working with ability users such as them), he’s always just a few steps ahead of you.

It’s not an insult towards you on his end in any way either. Your way of thinking is totally different from his own, but he reasons out that he can make arrangements to improving your logical deduction abilities once he finally figures out how to convey his feelings for you.

Properly, and not through a series of complex paradoxes and logic puzzles.

The most complex riddle of them all though that the ADA office staff asks themselves each day while witnessing the two of you has to be:

Whose logical reasoning is really being tested here again? Yours, or Ranpo’s?

The ADA believes that Ranpo should use less of his time giving you intrinsically methodical puzzles and focus more of his energy on realizing his blooming, lovesick crush.

works © amamisa 2024. no copying or stealing, please!

[ryuichirou]

Hi hi long time listener first time caller: I was interested to hear you talk about Vil and Rook in your wholesome hc post. I’m curious about what other thoughts and feelings you have for them, if you feel like sharing!

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for being a long time listener and for your ask~

I do indeed have a lot of thoughts and feelings about these two. I always have this feeling that we don’t post about them all that much, but then it always turns out that I just can’t shut up about Rook/Vil lol I think we’ve had at least 3 hc posts about them, and a couple of them were on a darker side, so I guess it’s time to give these boys more wholesomeness.

As always, I am physically incapable of coming up with sweet stuff, but I did my best! I hope you enjoy reading these.

Over these almost three years Rook has taken thousands of Vil pics, but ironically, Vil only has a couple of Rook pics. Rook doesn’t like having pictures of him taken all that much; it’s not like he’s against it or uncomfortable with it, he just prefers to have it the other way around. But these rare instances where Vil manages to take a selfie with him are always precious. Vil’s favourite ones are the one taken in the NRC’s courtyard (he finds it sentimental), the one taken in an auditorium of a theatre (they really enjoyed that opera), and the very private sleepy lazy nude one. Naturally, there is no way he’d share those on Magicam.

Being big movie/theatre nerds, they quote a lot of obscure stuff that both of them love. It’s like their secret code that no one else would ever get because they are the only people their age who watched that weird old but very quotable movie about some lady becoming a witch and killing her husband. Sometimes Rook quotes it just to cheer up Vil when he is in a bad mood.

They also sing together sometimes, but not very often. Rook would love to do it more often, he would prefer to live his entire life like he is in a musical, but Vil doesn’t think that singing randomly all the time is a good idea. For starters, it could strain your vocal cords. But also, real life doesn’t really feel like a musical to him… He indulges Rook every once in a while though.

I’ve mentioned it in another post, but I’ll reiterate and add to it a little bit: they are very likely to stay together even after graduating from NRC. To be honest, I think they are very likely to spend their entire lives together, even though a lot of it would end up being LDR: both of them would travel the world doing their own thing, being very busy and working a lot, but they would always facetime or just call each other to talk for at least an hour or so. Rook would always send Vil flowers and gifts, and always anonymously, but Vil doesn’t need a card to identify Rook’s gift in a huge pile of others.

They would own a house together that Epel would spend a lot of time in because they are rarely home and someone has to babysit their dogs and their garden, so technically it’s Epel’s house 70% of the year lol But whenever they could, they would come back to it and spend their lovely 30% of the year together! The house was technically built to be able to host parties in and invite people over (their home cinema room has 30 seats…), but whenever they get home, they spend pretty much all the time alone.

[hajiimes]

purple hydrangeas

pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, hanahaki au warnings: mentions of blood, surgery, and hospitals word count: 1.4k author's note: if this looks familiar at all that's cuz it's a repost from my previous blog (also hajiimes) from like 2-3 years ago lolol !! i revamped it and am reposting it here :D i'm sorry i was gone for so long it's been a wild time lol

masterlist

There’s a tickle in your throat and pain in your lungs. It’s been there for quite a while, so long that you’ve already forgotten what it felt like without the petals clogging up your lungs. You look at him, so unreadable, so unreachable . No one had told you that falling in love would hurt so much. 

It’s silly, you tell yourself. Childish. Dumb. Foolish. First love, a deadly fate. 

Suna Rintarou sits to your left in school and you cast glances at him whenever you’re sure that he’s paying more attention to doodling in his notebook than you. In your observations, you learn that Suna Rintarou dog-ears the pages of his textbooks to save his spot. You learn that he chews on the eraser at the end of his pencil when he thinks, leaving small indents in it when he pulls away to write. You learn that more often than not, Suna spends class time drumming his fingers on his desk, idly staring out the window instead of paying attention to the board. 

Suna isn’t the type to forget any pens or pencils, but he always forgets to bring extra paper. You couldn’t count the number of times he’d leaned over the aisle separating the two of you to ask for a sheet of paper, to which you’d happily obliged every time—always willing to lend a helping hand. Those reluctant smiles he sent you out of gratitude always seemed to brighten your day.

Honestly, it’s no surprise that you developed Hanahaki. 

He makes small jokes under his breath about classwork, little quips he doesn’t think anyone can hear. He offers you a pen whenever you forget one, accompanied with a small note stating ‘Give it back when you’re done’ wrapped around it. You end up keeping those notes, stuffing them between spare pages of your textbooks and notebooks. 

Suna is a boy of few words, but when he speaks you find yourself hooked on every one of them. Your friends call it puppy love. They call it a little kid’s crush. They tell you that in a month you’ll forget all about it and move on to some other guy. 

You don’t tell them that you probably won’t make it another month. 

The coughing fits become more and more frequent, each one right after the other. They get worse during school, during those hours when you’re near him. Purple petals litter your desk and pile into your hands, but you just discard them into your school bag with reckless abandon. 

Your friends approach you to ask if you’re okay. An easy, practiced smile stretches across your face and you wave them off like nothing is wrong. You tell them as much, you just have bad allergies! Nobody mentions that it’s not allergy season. You think it’s either out of mercy or pity that they leave you alone after that. 

Sometimes you think you can see Suna looking at you during class when you’re trying to discretely spit petals in cupped hands, but you always brush it off as a trick of the light. You think you can feel his eyes on you when you’re talking to your friends, watching as you carefully place your hands over the stray petals you forgot to brush off the desk. You smile and wave off your friends’ concerns like you always do. 

He never speaks up, never says anything about how your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

Suna goes on with his life like nothing is wrong, pretending he doesn’t see you cough up purple petals into your hands out of the corner of his eye during third-period math. He pretends that he doesn’t see you each day in his peripherals, too preoccupied with your own impending demise to worry about the functions written out on the whiteboard. 

Even though things have changed so drastically for you, Suna stays the same.

You learn that he mumbles out the words when he’s reading something. You learns that he bounces his leg underneath the desk when you’re taking a test. You learns that he’s quiet, but that doesn’t mean he’s shy. When his friend—Miya Osamu, from the volleyball team—is around, he’s much more talkative than usual. You learn that he drops his bag on his desk loudly every day to wake himself up in the morning, the slamming of the books in the bag waking you up in turn.

It’s cruel, you think to yourself in those selfish moments you allow yourself to consider him between the last toll of the school bell and the beginning of club activities, watching as Suna packs his schoolbag and slings it carelessly over his shoulder. He spares you one single glance, his lips a flat line as he makes a beeline past his peers lingering at their desks and heads out the classroom door. You watch Suna walk away like he always does, sparing you a single merciful glance as you dump the last of the school day’s purple hydrangeas into the trash. It’s cruel that he doesn’t know the effect he has on you.

It’s getting worse. 

Your parents beg you to tell them who it is, and how they can stop it from happening. They offer to switch your school, to pull you from club activities, to move prefectures if it helps. Your mom begs you to consider surgery; she pleads that you’re too young to die like this. You don’t care—you would rather die in love than live without it. 

Each day you live with the disease is a day your body grows weaker and weaker. Your body runs cold and your head feels heavy every moment you has to hold it up. Your teachers, luckily, are merciful. They don’t say anything when you rest your head in class—they know your situation all too well. You can feel the pitying glances they send you during breaks and passing periods, their stares burning into the back of your head. 

It comes upon you suddenly, like a summer storm, during history class. Bile and flowers rest in your throat and, without a word, you excuse youself to the bathroom—just barely making it there in time.

Flowers bloom in your lungs, growing more and more until the petals fill your throat and spill out of your mouth. It hurts, you want to scream out, It hurts so much, but when you opens your mouth to speak, petals fall out in red, bloody clumps in lieu of words. You clutch at your throat and squeeze, hard, in a futile attempt to force the flowers out. 

It doesn’t work.

They find you in the second-floor school bathroom three minutes later. Petals surround you like a halo and, if it weren’t for the blood on your lips and the odd placement, one might think it’s some sort of art project. 

You remember what happened in flashes. You’re rushed to the hospital. The doctors call your parents. You’re rushed into the operating room. You fall asleep, Suna’s name on his lips. 

The flowers inside of your lungs are gone when you wakes, but a dull throbbing sits in their place. There are no flowers in the hospital room, no bouquets—something you find yourself grateful for. It’s funny somehow, the caution in which the people around you treat those silly little blossoms. It’s almost laughable, the way your family acts like you’ll break at the mere sight of a petal. Like you’re fragile.

It’s not long before you’re cleared to return to school, cleared to return to your fifth-row seat. People crowd you before class, each one asking if you’re okay, how the surgery was, and what it was like to have the disease. You wave them off with an easy smile, only saying that you’re glad to be back. 

There’s a boy who sits to your left. He holds his pencil tightly in his hand, plump pink lips wrapped around the end as he chews lightly on the eraser. His leg bounces with deep-rooted anxiety whenever you glance over at him. 

In the transition between second and third period, he passes a note with the words ‘Welcome Back’ written on it in hurried chicken scratch. You think it’s meant to be a joke. 

When you look up at the boy, you finally notice that his gray-brown eyes are watching you. You raise your eyebrows, watching as the corners of his lips turn upwards—an offering of the smallest of smiles. This classmate is familiar somehow, a creeping presence in the back of your mind. A gap in memory that should be filled, a cavity in your heart. You know that you’ve met before—it’s obvious in the way he’s looking at you. 

For some reason, you can’t remember his name.

[docwritesshit]

i see you need request so here am I to the rescue

Redson x reader x Mei poly pls general dating HC plllssssss

Good sir I love you for that lol

Dragonfruit x Reader dating HCS!

Alright, one thing straight here: no one is in this relationship lol

Reds is in the middle of the cuddle puddle because she’s a personal heater

Speaking of, Mei is the one to initiate most of the cuddles. She likes being close to both of you. So does Redson but Mei expresses it more

Dates range from spontaneous training sessions where these two knuckleheads go all out to just a quiet movie night inside

If you cook, you are a god to them.

Mei likes to spoil you with gifts she bought while Reds likes to make you things more. You have a pile of plushies taking up most of your closet and small welded sculptures littering every flat surface in your home

I feel like there has been a handful of times where you all just end up in Redsons’ garage with the two of them working on their respective vehicles and you doing your own little project along with them

(Reds will take this to the grave, but they like those kind of dates the most)

You all are banned from every fancy dine in place in Megalopolis. I don’t know why, you just are

Most home dates take place in your apartment, as both of them don’t really like taking g the others around their parents.

I feel like there are just hoodies that you all contributed to this relationship and they just go in a rotation until it comes to a designated wash day.

There is a cycle of “bitch rest” between the three of you. You all overwork yourselves on one way or another

You have scary dog privileges. Mei is the main contributor to that, surprisingly. Reds doesn’t try and go extreme cause they think it’s a waste of time unless someone slimy tries something outta pocket. Then they have to limp to the ER with a third degree burn

Mei is the hype man between you all. The most you got from Reds when he isn’t tired is a blush and mumble about how nice you look

Reds is the one to be the voice of reason you and Mei ignore when you’re about to do dumb shit. Then she drags the both of you out of the chaos of said dumb shit

That’s all I got :3

[skzpixie]

Happy Wedding, my love// happy ending saga

Part 1 - Part 3

CW: none! Just a whole lotta fluff and the two being unserious in their wedding

Taglist: @mynameisnotlaura, @palindrome969

December 21st, 2024 

It wasn’t every day two idols got married, especially ones that were considered to be the nation’s power couple. But today was that day. The day when many people tuned into the news and livestreams to see the two get married.  

Kai paced a hole through the floor of the bridal suit, her brother looking at her confused. He never knew the type of stress brides got on their wedding day. Her bridesmaids had gone to get pictures with the groomsmen, so it was just her, Bo, and Yuqi, Yuqi being her maid of honor. 

The wedding was taking place in a large greenhouse, keeping the people warm from the chill that was winter in South Korea. The large building held several of their closest friends and biggest celebrities. Yuqi and the rest of (G)-Idle were her bridesmaids, while Lisa and Wonyoung were the last two. The boys were Changbin’s groomsmen while Chan was the best man. Ateez, the rest of Blackpink, and almost half of the industry was on the guest list. The rest of the guest list was family on Changbin’s side, making the wedding have roughly seven hundred people attending. Even JYP and his family were attending, that was how big the wedding was being promoted. 

Along with the upscale wedding, came her dress. It was a slight mermaid style, the skirts flaring out after her mid-thigh. The dress from the thigh up weighed 5-10 lbs. itself. It was adorned in jewels and beads, making it hard for her to breath, the corset back not helping her case. Her hair was styled into an elegant updo, the front two strands of her hair freely flowing and curled to frame her face. Her makeup was simple, a nude look with peach lips to enhance her natural beauty. On top of that, her neck and ears were adorned with sapphires and diamonds, making her look like one of those dolls. The necklace, thankfully, wasn’t too gaudy, putting just the right amount of interesting texture to her look. 

Yuqi got a buzz from her phone, and she cursed. “Kai, baby, it’s go-time.” Kai internally groaned. She wasn’t ready yet, she doesn’t think she’ll ever be ready. She took a deep breath, linked her arm with Bo’s, and made her way to enter. Yuqi had quickly gone to walk down with Chan on her arm, giving her a look of encouragement. It reminded her of that day in February, not too long after their engagement. 

“Who's the best man?” Hyunjin asked Changbin, days after the announcement over Instagram and Dispatch. 

“I don’t know.” Changbin commented, braiding Kai’s hair, who was fast asleep with a glass of soju. 

“It’s going to be me, obviously.” Han snorted, making heads snap towards him. 

“Ain’t no way, it’ll be me.” Feliz said, and it became a huge argument between the seven members. Changbin watched them, amused, already having an idea who it’ll be. 

Kai stirred, making the men freeze. “What’s going on?” She yawned, making Changbin glare at the men who woke her up. 

“Just because of that, Chan will be my best man.” Changbin told the seven, picking the one that was least responsible for waking Kai up. 

Chan fist bumped, which led to the members wrestling and dog piling over Chan. 

Kai snorted at the memory, her nerves melting away as the music filled her ears. It was the instrumental version of Butterflies, making her crack up slightly. She met Changbin’s eyes, and they couldn’t stop the giggles that left their mouths at the sight of each other. 

After a quick couple seconds, she stood under the altar, hugging Bo after he went to sit down. The officiant, BoA, started the ceremony. The two had to hold in their laughs whenever they looked at each other, feeling shy whenever they made eye contact. 

“Now, repeat after me.” BoA instructed Changbin, who nodded diligently. She started telling the vows, pausing every now and then to let Changbin repeat after her. After his set, she turned to Kai, doing the same thing she did to Changbin to her. The two held bated breaths, until it was said they could kiss. 

The two went in for a kiss but instead of kissing, they bonked their heads together. This caused the two to burst out laughing. She cradled his head while the two laughed, trying to rub away the red mark while their wedding party couldn’t help but laugh as well.  

After a few seconds of the wedding party being anything but serious, Kai eventually landed a kiss to his lips, getting cheers from the crowd. She pulled away and continued laughing, making her wheeze from how tight the dress was. 

The two walked back down the aisle while their wedding party was following, bouncing and jumping up and down, like it wasn’t supposed to be serious, to hype the couple up. Security quickly crowded the guests into limos to transfer them over to the reception. Kai continued to rub the red mark on his forehead, before kissing it to make it feel better. Changbin chuckled, before kissing her deeply, making her squeak. 

She sighed happily, wrapping her arms around his neck before the limo lurched, the two falling to the floor with a laugh. Changbin quickly helped her up, pulling her into his lap. 

“My husband, ever the gentleman.” She snorted, Changbin kissing her cheek and making her giggle. 

“Call me that again,” he said. She smirked, before doing so. After each time she called him her husband, he would reward her with a kiss in a different place on her face.  

The two soon settled into a comfortable silence, ready to spend the rest of their lives together like this. 

BONUS!!: The pics that inspired Kai's dress (Can you tell these two have plagued my mind??)

[betmagic]

Little sunshine au

Random scenes / head canons that can’t get out of my head-

Also most of this is jumps around at different points in the story so it can be confusing so apologies in advance!

Okay baby luffy vs shoes

Okay so this comes from my head canon that Luffy ( especially as a child ) absolutely hates shoes , mostly because why else would he wear nothing but flip flop in canon( even in winter weather) and Makino probably was able to get him to wear them as they were the closest thing to being barefoot without actually being barefoot( plus shanks wearing similar foot ware also helped/ plus they make sounds when you walk- omg imagine if luffy discovered those light up shoes but in sandal form!-

and because in this image

Nika is barefoot- being a god it probably doesn’t affect him being barefoot- so luffy being reincarnation of Nika he probably still prefers not having his feet confined in shoes.

Anyway back to main head canon

So Luffy went completely barefoot until he was 3-4 until he noticed shanks wearing flip flops. Even then it took a lot of convincing from Makino shanks and his brothers for him to finally start wearing them.

He still ends up barefoot half the time , forgetting them somewhere or they fell off while he was running climbing or swimming etc, thankfully flip flops are easy to find ( and cheap enough to buy multiple back up pairs- theirs a whole stock pile / crate(s) full of them) , but his brothers and the crew keep one or two pairs just in case.

Unfortunately he refuses to wear any other type of foot wear, even in winter islands , though once he gets cold enough he’ll put boots on. Unfortunately since he’s not used to wearing themit’s awkward for him so ends up like when you put boots on a dog for the first time and someone actual has to carry him because he’s slow and clumsy.- though they’ll take any excuse to hold luffy especially since his big brothers are so stingy!-

[ladykailitha]

The Places We Hide Part 6

And technically part 7, too.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

*

Eddie loved his band, but they were thinking of changing the name. Coffin was a bit too close to what Eddie had gone through and sometimes the reminder hurt. So they were trying to find a C word that could be used to replace it that wasn’t corpse or casket.

“Creature?” Jeff suggested.

“Why would a creature be corroded?” Gareth asked.

Jeff just shrugged his shoulders.

“Crown?” Eddie asked.

Before anyone could respond, Gareth’s mother popped her head into the garage.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she began. “But it’s Steve, Eddie.”

Eddie jumped up and followed her into the house.

Gareth, Jeff, and Brian looked at each other in resignation. That phone call meant that Eddie was going to be awhile.

“I want to be mad,” Brian murmured. “But if it wasn’t for Steve Eddie wouldn’t even be here.”

They hadn’t been read in, but they knew that Steve had brought Eddie to the hospital, both of them bleeding and battered as if they had walked through hell. As soon as Eddie had been taken care, Steve had promptly fainted. The hospital has wisely chosen to put them in the same room.

Jeff sighed. “I know. And it’s not as though it’s every time. Hell, I don’t think I remember the last time it happened.”

“Christmas,” Brian supplied.

They all nodded.

“They clearly went through some shit,” Jeff said. “My Uncle Dave was in the Vietnam war and he gets like Steve sometimes.”

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. They knew that tragedy clung to Steve Harrington the way that baby clung to its mother.

“We could invite Steve to the practices,” Gareth said.

They looked at each other in shock. It was perfect. Gareth scrambled up and into the house.

Two minutes later Gareth and Eddie came back.

Eddie looked at each of them. “Are you sure you want to this? You don’t have to. Steve and I are okay doing what we have been.”

“No,” Jeff said. “We want him here. He’s a pretty cool dude once we got to know him and he wouldn’t be a bother.”

“Yeah,” Brian said. “Maybe tell him he can be our test audience or something.”

“Whatever you want to tell him,” Gareth said, “just make sure he knows we want him here with us.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “You guys are the best friends a guy could hope for.”

They all came rushing forward and dog-piled him. Shower him with hugs and kisses on the cheek.

“I’ll go call Steve back,” Eddie said, a little teary-eyed.

“Tell him to get his ass over here,” Gareth growled. “We don’t take tardiness lightly.”

Eddie laughed. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

Once Eddie had gone back into the house, Brian said, “That’s sorted. Now, all we need to do is convince Eddie that Steve isn’t as straight as he thinks he is.”

Jeff and Gareth shared shocked glances. “That dude is the biggest slut,” Jeff muttered, “you can’t tell me he doesn’t have a thing for the ladies.”

Brian shook his head. “You can like both.”

“So what I’m hearing,” Gareth said slyly, “is that our Eddie’s crush isn’t as one-sided as his latest lyrics make them out to be?”

Brian grinned.

*

The party was in full swing. And it was a little hard to break up, when the chief of police was there with his whole family. Though, there had been a couple of cop cars that drove past.

Steve sat on top of picnic table watching everyone he loved run around having a good time. In addition to the Hopper-Byers clan, there were the Sinclairs, the Wheelers, the Hendersons, both Munsons, the Emersons, Jeff’s family, and Brian’s family. Everyone but Steve’s parents.

Which considering that they hadn’t even come town when Steve ended up in the hospital last year, it really wasn’t a surprise for anyone.

Eddie hopped up on the table next to him. “You doing okay?”

Steve smiled. “Yeah. I’ve been counting how many cars slow to read the sign and then speed off.”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, how many?”

Steve pointed at a car that was doing just that. “Sixteen.”

Eddie shook his head. “If they wanted to come they should just come on over.”

Steve grinned. “It’s fine if they don’t.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked.

“I’m happy with the friends and family I made over these last five years,” Steve murmured bumping into Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’m glad, Stevie,” he replied. “I’m glad I’m a part of that for you.”

Steve put his hand over Eddie’s on the table and looked down at their clasped hands. “You mean even more than that.”

Eddie looked down at their hands and then back up at Steve. “You mean more than that to me, too, sweetheart.”

Steve leaned forward and pressed his lips to Eddie’s.

“I found you,” he breathed when they pulled apart.

Eddie chuckled. “So you did. And you’ll never have to look for me ever again, baby.”

“I took your uncle’s advice,” Steve murmured.

“You mean other than the party?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded. “My parents called last week. They’re selling the house and staying in New York.”

“Holy shit!” Eddie cried. “They’re just kicking you out?”

Steve smiled softly. “It’s okay. I’ve been in the process of buying a house with all the hush money I’ve gotten over the years. And I’ll be out before they sell the one I’m in.”

“You! You’re buying a house?” Eddie asked, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” Steve said, ducking his head. “It’s going to have all the space and a pool, too. Just...”

“Without any of the bad memories,” Eddie finished. “I gotcha.” He brought Steve’s hand up to his lips. “Are you sure you want to buy a house here?”

Steve took a deep breath and then let out slowly. “Just until Erica graduates. Then I will move elsewhere.”

Eddie grinned. “Where to, baby?”

Steve grinned. “Well with any luck, to LA with you and the rest of Corroded Crown.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “You’ve got high hopes for us, pretty boy?”

Steve shook his head. “Nah. Just know a good thing when I see it.”

Eddie kissed him hard. “You sure do.”

Across the park Wayne looked up from his conversation with Claudia Henderson and smiled at the pair.

There would always be things that they had to hide, but they had finally found each other in all the ways that were possible.

[echodrops]

The Promises I’m Making (2024)

Sheesh, this year it was even harder than last year to make promises. In particular, I really wanted to focus on promises that wouldn't cost as much money as in prior years, so I tried to steer clear of too many promises that would cost above the basic spending amounts... But it turns out it is really hard to make resolutions if you're broke. 😂

So here's what I'm going with:

2024 Promises

1) Step down from my administrative position and return to being a full-time faculty member. I literally cannot take the clown show that is admin at my work anymore. It is actually killing me.

2) Related to this, redecorate my new office as soon as they decide where they are going to move me.

3) Apply for new jobs!! APPLY FOR NEW JOBS!!!

4) Train my replacement in the chair position well so they are super prepared to take over in fall.

5) Put a new sink/vanity in the downstairs bathroom of the Utah house.

6) Get both bedroom floors sanded in the Utah house upstairs.

7) Finally get rid of the dirt pile in front of the Utah house.

8) Take down the remains of the wooden fence posts at the Utah house.

9) Fully clean out and prepare the Utah house to be rented out to new renters. Hopefully the next people won’t sneak in a parrot that poops all over the floor… RIP…

10) Clean off my back patio/car port area so I can park my car there again.

11) Call the plumber and replace the faucets. Even if I end up having to do it myself.

12) Get the dead tree removed from the Texas house yard and call the internet company to see about the cable around the tree root.

13) Plant roses where the old ones died in front of the Texas house. 

14) Replace my CPU fan; the bearings are going out and it’s making an annoying noise.

15) Organize my documents (especially student papers)—my desktop and documents folders give me nightmares just looking at them. 

16) Related to that, lose at least 20 pounds. 2020-2023 was not kind to me and the stress eating was real.

17) Do at least one artwork to actually use that paint program I bought. 

18) Pay my credit debt down by at least $2000. I’m still paying off the hell year, but I hope I can make progress on this.

19) Buy all the Noragami volumes I am missing and do a complete re-read of Noragami now that the series is finishing up.

20) This is super nerdy, but my bro got me the FFXIV cookbook and made me promise to actually use it, so I guess I’d better at least try to make something from it.

21) Finish at least five books this year.

22) Update HaaH at least once. Please, Echo???

23) Reach the new level cap with all jobs in FFXIV!

24) Go to the graduation ceremony for my family friend.

25) Catch up with hanging up all the charms/pins I’ve gotten recently on my corkboards; these are just sitting in boxes/bags around the house. D;

26) Fully deep clean and vacuum/detail my own car at home. No more of the “It doesn’t make sense to clean it out now; the dog is just going to go back in it.” The dog is always going to go back in it. Clean it, Echo.

27) Help my parents tear out the carpet in my old childhood bedroom.

28) See at least three new species of birds. Doesn’t matter where, just three new ones!

29) Reach 3500 followers. Can I do it? You should follow me if you’re not already; I’m pretty cool. Just sayin’!

30) Cancel all the subscriptions I don’t need. There’s literally no reason to sit around letting companies passively profit off me when I don’t even really use the services/the services keep getting worse while the costs keep going up.

31) Go out on at least a day trip to take pictures with my friend. We haven’t done this in quite some time. I need to touch grass.

32) Repair the lovely one-of-kind ceramic plate that my dog broke with kintsugi. I want to try it at least once!

33) Really look hard for my passport in my house. It’s been missing for like a year and a half now, and I don’t want to have to pay for a new one.

34) Put all the small prints, postcards, and stickers I have collected in my new mini-print books. I can even use up washi tape to decorate too. (Finally, a purpose for the washi tape…)

35) Shred the million pieces of old mail I have lying around the house. I finally got the shredder so it just makes sense to use it.

36) Have more follow-through with chores. It’s not enough to wash the clothes or do the dishes if I then procrastinate on folding the clean laundry and putting the dried dishes back in the cabinets…

37) Put reminders for birthdays and major events in my phone as well as set a monthly reminder to check these promises. Maybe I’ll be able to keep more promises if I look at the list more often throughout the year!

38) Since I can’t afford to go to the salon, spa, etc. too much this year, I should at least do some self-care days at home. Will this be the year I finally manage to use all the fancy scrubs and face masks and bath salts I keep getting from people?

39) Use up one whole notebook. It doesn’t matter what goes in the notebook, but I gotta use the whole thing from cover to cover. I have so many pretty notebooks that never get used just because they’re pretty.

40) Change the burned-out lightbulbs in the recessed lighting in the Texas house ceiling. It’s like twelve feet high and the lightbulb charger stick I bought didn’t work, so I’m going to have to find someone with a ladder. Save me, handyman. Save me.

41) Build the pretty koi paper lantern my brother got me, or the Korean temple model my coworker gave me after his trip to Korea.

42) Actually use the yoga mat I bought forever ago. At least a few times, please???

43) Finish watching the Fruits Basket remake with Kacchan. I think we stopped in the second season, RIP.

44) Spend more time with coworkers—go out to lunch more often.

45) See about removing the PMI from at least one of my house loans to try to save money. I’ve been paying on these loans long enough I shouldn’t need PMI anymore.

46) Practice my German skills (or I guess other language skills?) by translating something at least once a month.

47) Get a new bookshelf. The current ones in both my office and foyer are already overflowing. @_@

48) Make more time to call people and talk on the phone. Texting is not the same. D;

49) Get the new COVID vaccine to stay healthy.

50) I will keep my promises! 

Good luck, 2024’s me!

[blood-darkened-moon]

Isolation

Chapter 1

December 12

What do you actually write in a diary? I guess I just write whatever comes into my mind.

My name is Samantha Blair, and I’ve been stationed at the Aurora Research Facility for about a month now. This place will be my home for roughly the next 11 months. I graduated two years ago with a PhD in chemistry. This is my new job. It wasn’t easy to get it. After all, there are only a few positions available in this facility. There are 12 of us in total, and my job is to analyze ice and soil samples. It’s summer here at the moment. The sun doesn’t set this close to the South Pole any more, and at night it only gets a bit dusky, which, admittedly, bothers me more than I thought it would. Doug* gave me this journal “so I won’t lose track of time.” I wonder if that will help. At least I can try.

*Douglas Garry, station leader

December 13

Nothing interesting. After breakfast, I set about sorting the samples from the last research team and finding out which of them still needed to be analyzed and which didn’t. So the same thing I’ve been doing for over a week now. What were they thinking? “We’ll be gone soon anyway, let the next team take care of it?” After me, the deluge. Typical. Half of the samples are not properly labeled, and even for those that are, it takes forever to find out what has already been done with them. It’s all in the lab books, my ass. I can hardly do anything with the cryptic notes there if I manage to decipher the handwriting at all. On top of that, I have to pick the measurement data out of disorganized piles of paper. It was all planned differently. They were actually supposed to measure their own stuff, but towards the end of their stay, one device after another broke down. The devices are working again. Now, we’re supposed to carry out these measurements first and send them the results.

December 14

Sorting samples, searching for corresponding measurement data. Nothing new. Jeff gave me a new drill core. At least I was able to take a few measurements today.

*Jeffrey Norris, geologist

December 15

As I was going about my usual business, John* arrived and said that we were going to be hit by a heavy snowstorm in the next few days. According to the weather data, the storm will last for several days, maybe even weeks. We have to prepare the station. So we spent the whole day outside moving equipment into storage rooms or fixating it. I’m still freezing.

*John Bennings, meteorologist

December 16

Dark clouds have gathered. After so many days of sunshine, the darkness, if you can call it that, is a welcome change.

December 17

It’s been snowing since last night, and the snowfall is getting heavier, although it will be another 2-3 days before it really starts. David* expressed concerns about the dogs, but Marcus** said they don’t mind the little bit of snow. Quite the opposite. Huskies love this weather. Marcus looks after the dogs. He will know best. When I think about it, it occurs to me that we are probably one of the only stations left that still uses dog sleds. We also have snowmobiles, but Marcus always says the dogs are more reliable.

Later, we decided who should clear the paths and when. The work should continue if possible. However, if the storm gets too bad, the research buildings will remain closed until it subsides.

*David Palmer, technical chief

**Marcus Clark, responsible for the dogs, thermal engineering, welding work

December 18

The howling of the wind gets stronger and stronger. Eerie. I have hardly slept a wink. At least I’m slowly making progress with the samples.

December 19

I spent half the day clearing paths. It is a Sisyphean task. As soon as I was finished, I had to start all over because everything was covered in snow again. And the worst is yet to come. If it goes on like this, I can forget about work for a while.

December 20

Jeff was on clearing duty today. He also said there was no point. After dinner, we agreed that we would only clear the paths to the important buildings, everything else would have to wait until the storm subsided. At least the dogs are having fun. And Lena. She built a giant snowman. Lena Fuchs is still a student and the youngest of our team, and you can tell. When I see her so carefree, I sometimes think I’m getting old...

The fact that Lena is here is not a matter of course. Normally, students are not accepted for research stays. However, Lena has excellent grades, so she was selected regardless of the usual rules. At least, that’s the official reason. For those who believe it. Her father just happens to have a lot of political influence and a ton of money. It would be a true miracle if he hadn’t set the whole thing up.

She’s supposed to help me with the measurements, but that will have to wait until the samples are sorted and the storm calmed down. In the first few weeks, however, I had already shown her how to operate the measurement devices. To pass the time, I’ve now given her a pile of papers to read.

December 21

We have a visitor. The last thing you expect at the South Pole in the middle of a snowstorm is a visitor. Her name is Veronica Edwards. She is British and works at the Umbrella facility nearby. She says she is a senior researcher. There’s been a virus outbreak. She hasn’t said what kind of virus it is, only that it’s not airborne and that the likelihood of her being infected is low. In general, she kept a rather low profile. However, she said that under the circumstances she cannot stay in the Umbrella facility. If she is infected with something, we can’t let her roam around freely, but not helping her is not an option either, so we put her in quarantine. Actually, that was her suggestion. Isaac* has prepared a room in the northeast storage building for the purpose. She waited in the snowmobile she came in. The building is quite large, and it also has a shower room and restrooms. Additionally, the supply in the northeastern storage building is largely separated from the other buildings, and we can lock an area from the outside. That could work. It was supposed to be modified into another research building this summer, but the modification has been postponed for another year or so. However, it has already been largely emptied. She said two weeks of quarantine would be enough. For the time being, only Isaac and Harry** will look after her. Isaac is our doctor. Harry has volunteered. They will stay away from the rest of us to minimize the risk of a virus outbreak during that time. In case of an emergency, they have walkie-talkies.

We have offered to contact Umbrella and tell them what happened, but Dr. Edwards said she had done that before she left the Umbrella facility. They’ll send people as soon as the storm subsides. If they’re taking so long, that must mean it’s not that bad, right? Or that it’s already too late, and there’s nothing they can do anyway. Shit. We’re not prepared for incidents like this.

* Dr. Isaac Copper physician, and by necessity veterinarian

** Harold Childs vehicle mechanic

December 21 Addendum I

I have to distract myself from the thought that the woman might have infected us all with some deadly virus. And I forgot to write that our new arrival is rather strange. She was at least wearing a jacket, but underneath, she had only put on a long purple dress, high-heeled shoes, and white velvet gloves. The clothes looked anything but cheap. She looked more like she wanted to go to a gala than work in a research laboratory. Who walks around like that in Antarctica? Well, maybe she wasn’t on duty when the outbreak happened. That would also explain why she managed to escape and, according to her own statement, is probably not infected. But even as casual wear, her outfit looks pretty bizarre in a place like this.

She had to wait quite a long time in the snowmobile until the provisional quarantine was ready. Wasn’t she cold in her thin clothes? She didn’t complain. And I couldn’t see any signs that she was freezing either. Admittedly, I kept a safe distance. Speaking of snowmobiles, judging by the tracks, she was driving as if she was drunk and almost crashed into one of the buildings. Can she just not drive, or are these signs that she’s not feeling well? A fever, perhaps?

Also, I remembered Doug mentioning in the first or second week that Umbrella isn’t even doing research at the facility anymore. It’s supposed to be a materials storage facility or something like that. Well, Dr. Edwards claims she is a researcher there. I’ll ask Doug about the facility again when I get a chance.

December 21 Addendum II

Nicole*** wanted to contact AAD and ask how we should proceed with Dr. Edwards. However, due to the storm, there is currently no way through with our communication system. Always at the best possible time, of course! At least it’s not broken. Nicole has checked it. In a few days, the storm should ease a little, although not stop. She’ll try again then. Until then, we’re on our own. As old as the communication system is, I’m not surprised that it doesn’t work currently. It probably dates back to when the station was founded in the 70s.

***Nicole Windows, telecommunications, electronics, computers

AAD = Australian Antarctic Division

Next→

[scifimagpie]

Tagback superpost

@toribookworm22 did this first, but I liked the idea, so here's an extended excerpt from The Foundling City, book 3 (the final one) in The Nightmare Cycle! Book 1 is available here or here. MAJOR SPOILERS FOLLOW!

***

I’ve only looked at videos and pictures of big animals before. Understanding the concept of ‘megafauna’ means absolutely nothing compared to seeing a huge, stocky thing that’s like a deer but way too big, with a fat, weird nose and strange, chunky antlers that just kind of moseys towards you, flapping its small, absurd stub of a tail. Apparently, it was called a moose, and it was like ten metres away, which was still way too damn close. I screamed, and it moseyed back down the river, not even bothered—then dropped a huge pile of turds on the riverbank and kept clopping along.

I’d seen the odd picture of a moose here and there, but let me tell you, when I saw it in real life, I thought I was gonna have a heart attack.

It’s amazing how many animals there just are up here. It’s wild. Literally. Being up here all the time means we get to see plenty of days with like—actual clear skies? So life is really hard compared to what I’m used to, but it’s also so beautiful that my eyes burn and my chest hurts sometimes. I thought we’d only have Dust above us forever, the way it had always been as far as I knew and remembered, but no—with so much Dust having migrated back to its home—dimension? Plane? Other place, anyway—you can actually see how blue the sky is.

It’s this thin but deep blue that goes on forever. Apparently there’s this atmosphere that’s layers and layers of different molecules and different kinds of air and a jet stream or something, and water vapour? And outside of it is space? I don’t really understand how space works, but at night, it’s dark like Dust but different, so deep, and all the stars come out, and sometimes I cry just looking at it.

Apparently cities used to be like this, glittery and bright but on the ground. Dad told me that once. I can’t imagine it; it sounds weird. Sometimes the wide open spaces and the flatness up here are kind of scary, like it makes you feel naked and small? A few people have had agoraphobic panic attacks since we’ve had to come up here, and I can’t really blame them, because the bigness of the world just doesn’t end unless you go inside and get to stop looking at it.

But it’s more than I ever dreamed of, and if I’m really honest? Which I can be, I guess, since this is my journal, not just some big fancy chronicle of the history and exile of my people. Well, if I’m honest…sometimes, when the night is clear and sparkling and I can hear the coyotes and wild dogs singing to the moon? Being exiled was worth it for all this beauty.

The one thing I don’t understand is how people from before could stand building over all of this and making so much city. Didn’t they miss the wilds? Then again—we lived in a city, down below. But—they had the choice. We didn’t.

Maybe it’s a good thing their world died. But then—so many people died with it; sick people and well people. I remember being those people, and dying, and I remember bits of that tame, domesticated world with its sidewalks and lawns and so, so many smelly, loud cars.

It was a comfortable world, a safe one. They had no way of knowing it would be taken from them.

I don’t know if it’s good or bad, what was lost. But this is what we have to work with, and I’m going to fight to make sure more of our people don’t die.

All of this, though, is just kind of a big, philosophical distraction from my real problem, which is that my spouses are fighting and I have no idea how I feel about this whole baby issue, and it’s making my head explode.

Nathu took us aside to check on things—after all, neither of us has immediately moved out, or anything. At the end of a long day, we all sat down on the crappy couches in this crappy apartment.

“So…how are you doing?” he said cautiously, hands wrapped around a mug of herbal tea.

Una glared at him. “Not well, asshole.”

I winced. It wasn’t a great start.

Nathu took a deep breath. “Technically, this is my fault. Would you like to punch me?”

That, at least, got a little laughter, and a hint of a smirk. “That won’t actually help.” She let out a sigh. “I’m just…overwhelmed by this right now. Frankly, I still don’t know how I feel about…” She gestured between him and us, then set a hand on mine. “Things between Janelle and myself are fine, but with you…I mean, you lied to us, Nathu. About something huge. This entire project. And then, faking your own death like that? I guess I’m just wondering, how can I even trust you?”

He rubbed his temples and set his face in his hands. “To tell you the truth, Una, I don’t have an answer. There’s nothing you’ve said that isn’t absolutely right. If I were in your shoes—I wouldn’t know how to trust me, either.” He looked up, grave seriousness on his face. “But I will do anything you ask me to, whatever it takes, for as long as it takes. I owe you that, and—whatever you choose,” he said, his voice husky and cracking with tears, “know that I love you. I love you beyond reason or fairness or logic, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to mend this.”

The earnest way he gazed at her, like a dog trying to please its master, made my heart twist.

She pulled in a long, shuddering breath. Tears were trickling down her cheeks unwillingly. She inhaled, taking a sharp breath. “Nothing except telling the truth, I guess.”

He winced like she’d stabbed him in the chest, and looked down. There was a long, heavy moment of silence.

“I—I don’t know what I need,” she said, her voice a little more even, measured. “But I know the people of this community need us, and that we have to keep working together. Keep doing that, and—keep giving me space.” Her voice quavered. “I don’t know whether I want to leave you or not.” She shut her eyes, and shook her head slowly.

It was petty and stupid, but I felt ignored. “Is anyone gonna ask what I want?” I said, my voice small and petulant.

Una whipped her head over to look at me. “Well, hell, what do you want?”

I froze up. “To be honest, I wasn’t actually expecting to—get this far.”

Her lips quirked in a tiny smile. “This whole conversation is a disaster.”

All three of us couldn’t help laughing a little at that.

Nathu sat up, though, and directed his attention towards me. “I’m sorry, Janelle, you’re right; I did lie to both of you, after all. I’ve just been…very thrown off and focused on Una because of this pregnancy issue. But you’re not less important.”

Una let out a huff of breath and glanced away from both of us, tears beading her eyes. “Can I actually get some space? I need some mental quiet.” I saw that she was wearing the silver and real shell button earrings I’d made her, and they swung through her pale gold hair, catching the light for a moment as her head turned. My heart clenched again.

Nathu just nodded and stood, then held out a hand to me, and pointed to the bedroom.

So we went there, and each of us sat down on the bed cautiously, on each end.

“So,” he said.

“So,” I echoed.

The words hung there like the fog of breath on a cold day.

(I never used to be this poetic. Maybe it’s all the manual labour driving me crazy, or all the novels and crap I’ve been reading at night. I’m so tired that it’s about all the energy I can muster—flipping pages, that is.)

Anyway, poetry or not, there was a heavy silence between us, and it just went on and on.

“Everything I said to Una, I meant for you as well,” he finally said.

I nodded. “Well—no offense, but watching you two fight is also just worse somehow. You’ve been together for so long, and…I always loved how you are together. So seeing you both like this, now…I dunno. My heart just kind of aches even to see it.” I let out a long sigh. “And I’ll be honest, Nathu—things weren’t really good between us, you and me anyway, for a long time when we were down there. You spent so much time like, brushing me off. And like—don’t get me wrong, there’s part of me that’s really, really relieved that you secretly agreed with me the whole time. But I feel pretty rotten and awful about being lied to so thoroughly.”

He took my hands in his own and stared at me earnestly. I would have thought it was a move if not for the ashy circles below his eyes and the seriousness in his dark brown gaze.

“—And I don’t know what I need, either,” I said, before he could ask, “but—actually, I think one thing I need is for you to be honest with me. To know you’re really saying what you think and believe, now that you don’t have to hide anything. Can you do that? Like—just be honest to a fault. And, try to spend time with me. We were barely around each other for a while there, and frankly, it sucked. I just want some of your time. To know I matter.” My throat closed up.

He nodded and stroked the back of my hand with his thumb, gentle as a breath. “I can do that. Anything else you think of, don’t hesitate to ask, all right?”

“I’ll try.”

“How are you feeling?”

I choked up a little laugh that died on the way out. “Right about now, I got the most mixed feelings a person ever did have.”

He smiled mirthlessly. “I can’t blame you.”

Hot, helpless anger rushed up behind my cheekbones and burned behind my eyes. Why can’t I just forgive him? Why can’t I just say “okay” and let things be the same as they were? It should be so simple.

And yet, somehow, I can’t.

I stood up abruptly. “I think I might get some air. Go for a walk.”

He looked alarmed. “Janelle, it’s cold out right now. At least minus fifteen.”

“I have a coat.”

He gave assent, resigned. “If you insist.”

So I opened the door, stepped carefully through the living room without making eye contact with Una, and brought my journal and a pen out here.

There isn’t much light—pretty much just the moon, and it’s a skinny little crescent; almost a new moon. I’m still not used to how damned dark it gets up here, too. Down in the tunnels, it was a different kind of dark; more absolute, when all the lights went out. Up here, sometimes you see a little light from one of the houses or the apartment windows, and of course there’s all the stars up there. If I look off in different directions, I can see a bit of light where I think Downblack might be. But the snow’s really reflective, so that helps.

Okay. I’m cold, and I think I’m done pouting, so I’m gonna go back upstairs and get some sleep.

I still don’t know how I feel about anything. How can one person’s head and chest contain so many feelings? It’s absurd. It feels downright unfair. And yet, I’m still here, my whole body knotted up tight and tense, feeling way too old and way too young at the same damn time.

***

Tagging in! @bluberimufim @squarebracket-trick @writernopal @digitalsatyr23 @aziz-reads @sam-glade @fire-but-ashes-too

[fluffyzoey]

Warm Me Up - Nischa OneShot

The power is out in Uranium City. Mischa goes to spend the night with Noel, so he’s not cold in his drafty basement. Fluff ensues.

No tws! Enjoy!

The power in Uranium City rarely ever went out. Was it because the town was fairly devoid of trees so nothing was there to hit the power lines? Or maybe because a power outage would be too interesting and whatever deity was out there would not wish that on the town where nothing ever happened? As far as Noel Gruber knew or cared, the latter was more likely. 

So whenever it did happen, which was barely once, maybe twice a year, Noel had a plan. 

Step 1: light a few candles

Step 2: cuddle up in bed

Step 3: pull out a copy of a classic novel and read the night away

Foolproof. Even a power outage could become a special occasion for him. So on a Saturday night in mid January, he was ready as soon as the lights started to flicker. 

As the scent of lavender and lemongrass rose in the room, Noel glanced outside the window. Snowflakes the size of quarters were drifting down from the heavens in heaps and heaps, coating the ground in a blanket of frosty white. The window was glazed with ice, though Noel was warm and toasty in his pile of blankets and pillows.

He cracked open an ancient copy of Jane Eyre, kicked his feet up, and breathed in the sweet scents of flowers and citrus. Nothing could possibly have ruined this excellent night. 

Something ruined his excellent night. 

Noel was only three chapters into his fifth re-read of Jane Eyre when he felt a vibrating sensation in one of his pockets. A text message. 

Mischa: Noel can I come over

Noel quickly texted back. For as little as he seemed to care about life, as nihilistic and sometimes pessimistic as he could be, he drew the line at Mischa. 

Noel and Mischa had grown close over the last few months. It wasn’t like Noel liked him or anything, just loved the way Mischa’s warm brown eyes melted him, the feeling of Mischa’s strong arms snaking around his body for a hug, the way his hair sometimes swung in his eyes, the way his head bobbed whenever he listened to music, the stupid lopsided smile on his face when he showed Noel a new rap, how his voice sounded when he was concerned…

Okay, maybe Noel liked him…a little bit. 

Noel: Yes, use the back door tho, front walkway is real icy

Mischa: k

Noel glanced around the room. What could have been so urgent that Mischa needed to come over? 

Noel: everything ok?

Mischa: ig

Noel: liar

Mischa: im just cold 

Mischa: heater not working

Mischa: u have power?

Noel: no, but i have warm blankets and candles

Mischa: ofc u do

Noel: whats that supposed to mean lol?

Mischa: gay ass

Noel: no shit

Ah, there it was. A sinking reminder that Mischa was not, in fact, into guys. “Gay ass.” Almost an insult. Maybe worse? 

Mischa: ok almost there. Its cold out here. 

Noel: Are u not wearing a coat?

Mischa: I don’t have one

Noel: oh shit

Noel: doors unlocked for u, im in my room btw

Mischa: thx

Noel could hear the door swinging open. The house was old and also extremely small, meaning sounds on one end could be easily heard on the other. Footsteps pounded on the squeaky floorboards, a yawn, the rustle of clothing on skin. 

The bedroom door opened, and Mischa stepped into the dim candlelight. He was soaked head to toe, dressed in a pair of pajama pants with dogs on them and a t-shirt. 

Noel raised an eyebrow, concerned. “That doesn’t look very comfortable.”

Mischa flicked a few remaining bits of snow from his pant leg. “It is not, but it was all that was clean.”

“Why are you all wet?” Noel stood up, facing Mischa. “You look like you almost drowned!”

“Fell on your icy as fuck driveway and landed in a snow bank.” He grumbled. “My ass is gonna be sore for days.” 

“Careful what you say.” He chuckled.

 He reached out, hand brushing down Mischa’s arm. “I have some warmer 

pajamas you can wear if you want.” He gestured toward his closet. “Dryer too.” 

Mischa smiled his stupid lopsided smile again, but waved him off. “I would rather just sleep in my boxers if that’s not an issue.”

“It’s freezing cold, and you’re taking layers off?” Noel laughed. 

“Well, yeah. It is wet. And you said you have blankets, yes?” 

“Yeah, on my bed. You can sleep there I guess, I’ll go sleep on the couch or something.” 

Mischa cocked his head to one side. “It is freezing cold, and you are going to sleep without blanket on the sofa?” 

“...Touche. I’ll dig the air mattress out.” He suggested. “I’m  pretty sure it’s in the basement.” 

“No need.” Mischa insisted. “I will sleep on floor. Just toss me down an extra pillow maybe?” 

Noel sighed. This wasn’t going anywhere. “Nobody’s sleeping on the floor. Look, Mischa, I know it might be awkward, but you can share my bed if you want. It’s probably warmer than the couch, and it’s big enough that you won’t even have to touch me if you so wish.” 

It suddenly occurred to Noel that he’d been staring at the floor for the past few moments of their conversation. He finally looked up at Mischa to see a blush spread across the taller boy’s face. He was also shaking from the cold. Noel himself was shivering a bit–winter in Uranium City was no laughing matter, especially with no heating. 

“Get out of those wet clothes and get in bed.” He demanded. “I won’t move my big gay ass any closer than it needs to be.” He joked. Mischa just blushed harder. 

“Thank you, Noel. This is much better than drafty old basement already.” He took off his shirt, revealing light curls of chest hair. Then he removed his pajama bottoms, and Noel kindly averted his eyes until Mischa was safely covered in blankets. 

“Comfy?” Noel slipped into bed beside Mischa, careful that no part of his body touched the Ukrainian. “You look a lot better now.”

“I am. Thank you, Poet. For everything.”

Woah, woah…Poet? What was that all about? Noel’s mind raced a million miles a minute, his face flushing redder than a cherry. He shifted side to side, debating moving closer to Mischa. 

A draft from the leaky ceiling solved this dilemma for him. The cold air came barreling at him like a racehorse, sending a shiver down Noel’s spine. Mischa tenderly wrapped an arm around him. 

“Stay close. We must remain warm, right?” Mischa laughed slightly. Noel smiled up at him. “That’s right. You don’t mind, do you?” 

“Poet, I have dreamed of this moment for months. You are clueless, aren’t you?”

Noel was confused. “What?” 

“I have been flirting with you for weeks! This whole sleepover thing was just one great big ploy to sleep in bed with you!” Mischa explained, sounding exasperated. “You are clueless as a bag of rocks.” 

Noel’s face went red once again. “You…like me? Like actually?”

Mischa nodded. “You are my man of words, Noel Gruber! I like you a hell of a lot!” 

The boys’ eyes met in the dim light that emanated from Noel’s candles. Mischa’s were a warm, chocolatey brown, and Noel’s were flecked with gold and grey. “You really are very beautiful, Poet.” Mischa’s voice was a husky whisper. “I hope you know that.” He cupped Noel’s face, and Noel nuzzled into his calloused hands. “You’re a lot gentler right now than you are at school.” He noted, and Mischa snorted.

“Can’t be gentle at school,” he explained, “Someone needs to act up. Keeps Ocean on her toes. I like bothering Ocean.” His eyes glimmered with his usual air of mischief, which warmed Noel’s heart. 

“Mischa,” Noel began warily, “Do you mind if I…if I kiss you? You know, consent and all that.” 

“Noel, Poet, you beautiful, perfect boy…You never need to ask.”

So, Noel hesitated for a moment, before sticking his head forward and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. 

Mischa smirked. “You missed.”  

He barely gave Noel a split second to realize what he meant before locking lips with him, sliding Noel’s body toward himself. As their bodies and faces collided, the males became enveloped in each other’s embraces. Mischa’s lips parted slightly, and Noel, almost instinctively, slid his tongue in, exploring Mischa’s mouth. It tasted almost like cheap vodka, a flavour Noel was not accustomed to, though he guessed, in his highly pleasured state, that he would be soon. 

Mischa broke the kiss, looking into Noel’s eyes again. This lasted for mere seconds before Noel has buried his face into Mischa’s chest, eyelashes fluttering down over those hazel-brown orbs, drifting off into slumber. 

“Hey, Poet?” he murmured, one more time. 

Noel shifted slightly. “Mhm?”

“Thank you for warming me up.” 

[oathkeeperoxas]

👀 oo how about a little 13. kiss on the stomach and 40. tired kiss (if you haven’t done those yet)

Kiss on the stomach can be found here Another Cat ficlet for you bingo! Thank you for sending these in <3

Ethan hauls the last bag out of the car and sighs as he lugs it inside the house. It had been a great weekend, out on the reefs and diving and relaxing on the beach, but it had been a disaster getting back home. They’d needed to get three planes home, and the first had been delayed, which meant they’d missed the second two. Tony had attempted to rebook or just straight up buy new tickets, but the only available flight had been seven hours away, and their third flight had been grounded, then the replacement cancelled, and they’d had to sit in the Prague airport for thirteen hours until getting home. 

Both of them are able to sleep in various positions with any amount of noise or light, but Ethan has always had trouble sleeping in planes, and his husband had been set on edge by the circumstances and by trying to rearrange their flights. Ethan had eventually had to steal his phone to get him to stop trying to change what plane they’d end up with, but of course that just meant that he had a wired husband to entertain while on a less than adequate amount of sleep himself.

“...thank you, Violetta,” Tony is saying, holding himself upright and proper, posture perfect as he speaks to their house sitter/groundskeeper/cleaner and now pet sitter, too. Cat is at his heels, nose poking into his stomach, which he is addressing with a hand on her head.

“Of course, Mr Hunt,” she says as she comes outside, handbag over her shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

“We’re fine,” Tony says, catching Ethan’s eye as he walks past him to start unpacking. “I’ll let you know when we next need someone up here, otherwise I’ll see you on Monday…”

Ethan leaves Tony to talk to Violetta about next week as he opens one bag and starts piling washing up to go in the laundry. Cat appears and starts sniffing the dirty clothes like her life depends on it.

“Are those interesting, kitty?” Ethan asks her, giving her more items to nose through as he empties out one bag and starts on another. He doesn’t begrudge his husband’s desire to bring so much on holiday when they can, these days, but also…

Cat buries her head in the pile and then comes up with a shirt on her head. She blinks at him before going back to her very important task. 

“You look very silly, baby,” Ethan croons at her. “Come here.”

He clicks his tongue and Cat abandons the pile of washing for pets. Ethan frees her of Tony’s shirt and rubs up behind her ears, just how she likes. Her eyes close, and she crowds in close, which is a lot of dog to handle on less sleep than he’d like.

“Ethan.”

Ethan looks up to find his husband rubbing his eyes. “Got everything sorted?” he asks.

“Yes,” Tony says. “Lets just leave this for tomorrow. I want to go to bed.”

The luxury of just being able to put a task off for later. Ethan keeps subtly sorting clothes with one hand while keeping Cat happy with the other.

“It won’t take long,” he says. “Why don’t you go have a shower, sweetheart?”

“Why don’t you join me?” Tony asks, lifting his eyebrows.

“I think sleep might get put off if that happens,” Ethan says wryly.

“I’ve managed to deal with three plane rides, I can put it off for something far more pleasant if I want to,” Tony complains. “Fine, fine. I know you like things to be organised.”

Tony takes the huge pile of washing with him as he heads towards the bathroom. Ethan smiles to himself as he keeps sorting the rest into piles – toiletries, shoes, gear, presents…

Cat gets in the way more than she helps, but that’s fine too. Ethan’s missed her, more than he had expected to for just three days. “You’re my little noodle-girl,” he says after he’s put most of everything away, and the rest up onto the kitchen bench. In the back of the house, he hears the water shut off. Cat snuffles into his chest, and he gives in and strokes down her spine, scratching where she likes it. Cat shoves herself into his hands, which does make him smile.

Ethan’s husband comes out to find him cuddling their dog, though he doesn’t look very surprised about it. “Ethan,” he says. “Come to bed.”

A different sort of yearning throbs in his chest. To be in his home, in his bed with his beloved…

His husband has taken off his wig and make up and hasn’t put anything else on besides the soft clothes he usually wears to bed. There’s smudged dark colour under his eyes, and he’s watching Ethan like he’s the only person who matters.

Ethan gives Cat one last kiss between her eyes and stands up. The rest can wait until tomorrow. He can give that much.

“Hey,” Ethan says softly, and puts a hand on his husband’s cheek before kissing him. He sighs into the kiss, lips moving against Ethan’s. “Entertain Cat for a minute while I clean up. She’s missed us, too.”

“Hmm,” he hums against Ethan before moving away. “You’re lucky I like you both.”

“Yeah,” Ethan says, something warm squeezing in his chest until it hardly feels like he can breathe. “Yeah, I know I am.”

Send me a kiss for saintspy May 😘

[princessdimondheart]

It’s The Dog | Chapter 3 | Ghost x Dog Handler! OC

Pairing: Ghost x f! OC

Warnings: controlled dog biting, slight character development

Edited: No

A/N: Hello! Sorry for the long wait… I made an outline of how I want this story to play out, so now I know where I wanna go with this story. It’s sorta detailed but I definitely have to flesh out some details and write everything. So far ~16 or so chapters total planned, give or take.

Masterlist

Ch.2 | Ch.3 [Here] | Ch.4

Character banner ©️ Me

3.

The men of Task Force 141 were lined up side by side in an open field not too far from where their main base of operations building was. To be honest it was just an open patch of grass between two large buildings, however, it was still big enough for the center to not be obstructed by the shadows of the buildings. Several large clouds moved lazily across the sky, darkening the area with its shadow for seconds before moving on and letting the sun shine through. Today was one of the nicer days England had seen for awhile. It wouldn’t last though, it was reported that bad weather was heading their way in the coming days. 

Standing in front of them was Sergeant Canis, who was having Riley sit facing her. His tongue was falling out of his mouth and his tail was whipping around. Next to them was a pile of dog biting gear. A full suit and several bite sleeves. Some of the sleeves were pretty beat up and one was brand new. When they saw how rough the sleeves were they knew that it was going to be a hard day for them. 

“So, today we’ll have you doing sleeve work, and maybe one of you guys can get into the suit to end off.” She chuckled and moved her eyes over each of them. “You will 100% be leaving here with bruises, so I hope you don’t care about blemishes.”

“I’ll give you a little demonstration before I let loose on you guys.” She moved to grab one of the more beat up sleeves. Riley’s head followed all her movements. 

Once the sleeve was in a perfect position she moved her arm in front of Riley’s snout. He only stared at her. 

“You see how he doesn’t just bite for the sake of biting the sleeve? He’ll only bite on my command, and I mean on my command. Sure you may be able to lead him but he probably won’t listen to you very well. He’s mostly a one person dog. He’ll still protect you though, but on his own prerogative.” Now Ghost felt special for their earlier interaction. 

She glanced up at them. “Watch me.”

For a second the younger men thought she’d lost her mind but were quickly corrected when Riley stood on all four feet and began to snarl at Canis. His barks were loud and bounced off the walls of the buildings and the single tree in the open area. 

“I’ll give commands in English and in German. He responds to both. Occasionally, I’ll pop out a command in Spanish so don’t be surprised by that.” She grinned at them. 

“A multilingual dog? Love that, lass.” Soap grinned back at her chuckling with his hand raised to his hip. She laughed back. 

“Yes, he’s very smart.” Still looking at them she gave another command to Riley. “Bite!”

Riley wasn’t too far from where Canis was standing so it wasn’t an explosion of momentum but his lunge was almost too sudden for them to clock it right away. Canis started to yell and shake her arm side to side. She glanced at Riley and was happy with his mouth position. She could feel the pressure squeezing on her arm. 

“You have to be loud and scream a little. Whoever Riley bites won’t just be sitting there looking pretty while getting bit by an over 100 pound dog.” She began to move around with Riley still attached to her arm. It was hard due to his weight but she was used to it. She was dragging him backwards and Riley still held on strong, only adjusting his grip on her once. His hind legs dug into the ground in an effort to keep her from moving back and his front paws dug into her sides and legs as he tried to grip her. 

“Aus!” She commanded Riley to let go and almost immediately he went into a sit. Canis dug into her back pocket and tossed out one of Riley’s tug toys. He chased after it and shook it around like a rag doll. 

Canis looked at the standing men again. They mostly had impressed looks and Soap had a large grin on his lips. She let Riley play for a while before calling him back into a heel. 

“Riley’s good for letting go… usually.” She hummed. “But the excitement can get the best of him so it may take me calling him off a few times before he’ll finally let go. Riley’ll whine like a puppy ‘cause he doesn’t wanna let go.”

That made them chuckle. Of course a working dog would hate letting go when much of their work involved biting people for fun. At least fun in their eyes. 

“As for when we clear buildings or areas in general where we know enemy contact is eminent, I’ll have him walk between my legs. He’s great at reading body language so I can give him hand signals or move in a certain way that he understands and then he’ll follow through.” Her hand makes a sign and Riley goes to stand under his handler. They made a show of moving side to side and back and forth so that the others could see Riley following Canis’ movements. 

They stopped, “it’s your turn. We’ll start off with the sleeves… who wants to go first?” Canis looked over them and was surprised to see that Ghost had risen his hand. 

“I’ll go.” Was all he said. 

“Alright.” She motioned him over and started outfitting him with a sleeve. “There you go. Be sure to keep your hand in a fist… don’t wanna loose any fingers. Also, make it kinda obvious that you have the sleeve, wave it around and when he lunges for the bite, make sure that it’s the one facing him, alright?”

Ghost nodded his understanding. He made to move further away from the group. When he faced them again Canis and Riley were ready. 

“Okay, I’m gonna say some things and you’re not gonna comply. Yell some shit, curse, move around, do whatever to rile him up some.” She and Riley moved closer starting their little role play. 

Ghosts thoughts drifted away for a second before zipping back when Canis started asking him to raise his hands and kneel on the floor or she’d release her dog on him. Of course, he didn’t comply and started yelling at her to ‘fuck off’ and began to get closer to them acting menacingly. Although Ghost didn’t really have to try to be menacing… he could just stand there to be honest. Riley barked and snarled at him, his eyes never leaving his threatening form. 

Their faux confrontation reached it climax when Canis finally released Riley’s leash yelling her command to bite. The German Shepherd was on him in seconds. He’d braced himself but the weight of Riley slamming into his body made him stumble back a few paces. Ghost felt lucky that he had a sleeve on because the pressure that Riley’s jaw was giving would have easily torn flesh off his arm. Hell, he believed that he could have even broken a bone. Ghost pitied Riley’s victims. Canis was right… he was gonna leave their practice session with bruises. 

“Good boy! Nice bite!” Canis had reached them and was now holding onto Riley’s collar strap and leash. She sung her praises to Riley who was whining in happiness at taking down his victim. “Out!”

Riley oh so reluctantly let go. He whined some more and let loose a few barks before calming down. His eyes still never leaving Ghost. Riley never knew if he’d be considered an ‘enemy’ again. At least in terms of their role playing, not that he knew for sure anyways. 

Ghost’s heart pounded with adrenaline. He was honestly having the time of his life. Who knew getting ‘bit’ by a dog was so fun?Canis started praising him too and he was sure that his heart skipped. 

“Great job, Ghost!” She cheered. “He almost knocked you over! Not many can stay standing up the way you did.” 

Her grin was wide on her face as she laughed. He started to feel warm under his mask and wished he was alone so he could remove the overheating article. 

They moved on to the other members of TF-141. Captain Price was able to hold out for a bit, grunting at the pressure and only stumbling and then falling over after about a minute of Riley’s body-shaking bite. Gaz fell over right away. In his surprise, he yelped in a rather unflattering manner that had Soap dying of laughter. Soap was still grinning until Riley wiped it off his face when he knocked him on his butt too. 

“Who wants to do the full body suit?” Canis’ brow rose when the men’s eyes wandered around and they stayed quiet. They got a taste of Riley’s bites and weren’t feeling a full body knockdown. They were low-key scared. Ghost just stared blankly ahead hoping his eyes didn’t give himself away, they did anyway. “Seeing as we have no volunteers… I’m gonna voluntell one of you to put on the suit.”

Soap made the mistake of glancing over at Canis and came to a screeching halt when their eyes locked. Ghost swears that he saw a drop of sweat fall from Soap’s hairline. 

“Ah! I see our friend Soap here has decided to volunteer.” Canis stalked forwards and Johnny began to back up, his hands waving side to side in front of him. 

“Now lass, we all know I didn’t volunteer!” He pleaded. “Come on guys! Captain?”

Captain Price began to whistle lightly and didn’t even glance at him from the corner of his eye. The other members acted as if the situation wasn’t happening right next to them. Canis grabbed Soap by the wrist and began dragging him along. Johnny reluctantly letting her do so but he let his feet drag on the grass. 

“I’ll remember this you sods!” Ghost smirked at the pout the Scot was showing. Gaz snickered behind his hand and Price just smiled. 

Once Soap was in the full body bite suit, Canis began explaining how the scenario was going to play out. Canis and Riley would be walking and then Soap would walk by, and the two would have a conversation which would lead to Soap pulling out a faux gun. Riley would do his thing and then Canis would call him off. When they were done with that scenario Soap complained that the bite seemed to hurt him more than with the bite sleeve. 

“That’s because the gun gets him more excited and so he puts more pressure into his bites. He usually gets a higher value reward after an altercation with someone with a gun because it’s a higher risk for him, my team, and myself.” Canis explained. “Now, I wanna see you run in that suit. He’ll probably bite you in the back so don’t freak out.”

Soap was definitely freaking out and sweating with the suit on. He felt and looked like he was swimming in his sweat. Another reason why Ghost was happy that he wasn’t chosen, that, and the fact that the suit would have fit him more snugly than it did Soap. 

They proceeded with the role playing and Soap took off running. Ghost was surprised that Soap could run at all, he was rather wobbly but still running faster than the average bloke. 

Everyone gasped when Riley took off once Soap was a good 30 feet away. It was like watching a fighter jet take off. Riley was on Soap in seconds and lifted off the ground more than a yard away. His jaw slammed shut on a bulky part of the suit and all four paws slammed into Soap’s back. He could feel the claws digging into his back through the suit and Riley’s teeth pulling at his shirt. Soap swore he saw stars when his body splattered onto the ground. His breath was knocked out of him, and, since Riley was still standing over him shaking his head in that predatory way, it was harder for him to catch his breath. He was gonna need an ice bath after that. 

Moments like these were a constant for the following months. Training sessions with Canis, Riley and the Task Force happening almost every other day. They focused on teamwork and trusting Riley to do his job. All went well and everyone was comfortable so far, but the true test would come in the field. Ghost was still sent on a few solo missions but none that lasted more than a few days. He’d just come back the previous day from a four day mission. Not long after the following day was he called in by Captain Price to his office for redeployment. He’d just finished taking a shower and ate a late dinner. Price told him to head out to the airstrip by 22:00 hours to meet up with the others. Although Price didn’t specify who, Ghost was sure that the next few hours were going to be rather annoying. 

Ch.2 | Ch.3 [Here] | Ch.4

🔖 Taglist:

@missroro @wobblywolf

[thecollectionsof]

conjure you up right here

part 3 of leave the light on, for more nights of staying awake just a little too long (part 1) (part 2)

Crystal hardly knows whether or not it’s a dream, at this point—she hasn’t been sleeping very well, not with Gigi off over a thousand miles away from home visiting her parents for the past week. She misses the comfort, the routine, the familiar warmth and weight on the other side of either one of their beds. It always helped her fall asleep, and now that she was without Gigi it just felt weird.

She wasn’t completely without Gigi, though. Gigi’s parents tended to go to bed early, so that left her seemingly alone in the house, which is when she turned her full attention to Crystal. They had been texting through the day, sure, but at night? When the house was quiet and the lights were dark?

The night was always their time together, and that remains a constant even now.

They’ve been watching things together using Netflix Party, then staying up on Facetime for hours after, talking or sitting there together or even falling asleep side by side, even if it’s just over the phone. Crystal likes to take the time to admire Gigi through the screen, the golden light of the lamp on her childhood bed’s side table making her seem like she was being lit like she’s in one of the cheesy movies they love to watch together. 

Like now. Like the way Gigi’s smile remains when her laughs die out, the way her blinks are longer and her head lower in frame than the beginning of the call as she grows more tired. Like the way the gold weaves into her red hair perfectly, and Crystal hates that she’s not able to see her in this lighting in person. She knows that Gigi’s hair looks even better than she can see through the screen.

“Hey, Crys, I…” Gigi starts, but then trails off, a small smile still on her face. It was almost sad, though, a smile with an undercurrent of melancholy present in the way she was looking at her. 

The movie they had been watching had ended an hour ago, but they Facetimed each other instead of parting, neither of them wanting to stop spending time with each other. They’d been sitting quietly, both doing their own thing, until Gigi broke the silence. 

“Hmm?” Crystal replies, looking up from where she was rolling the last of her socks into a haphazard ball—as long as each pair was together, she was happy.

Gigi doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Crystal gives her the time she needs to collect her thoughts.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Crystal doesn’t drop it, not when Gigi’s looking at her like that.

“No, what is it?” She cocks her head, making Gigi huff out a small laugh.

“It’s… I just miss you. That’s all.” A blush dusts her cheeks, and she ducks her head slightly, looking away. Crystal wants to hold her, to angle her face back towards her until they’re making eye contact and then kiss the embarrassment off her face. Instead, she leans towards the built-in webcam on her laptop, a teasing grin painted on her face.

“You can’t say things like that, Ms. Goode, you’ll make me blush,” she says, trying to fight down the very blush she’s joking about. She decides to deflect, trying to get the attention away from her, “How’s it going over there?”

Gigi’s grin is back, and Crystal feels her stomach flip at the sight. 

She’s too pretty.

“It’s good! It’s good. My mom and I have spent hours holed up in the sewing room today, and the dogs have been happy that I’m back. But I’m excited to go home.”

To you.

It’s unspoken, but it’s there, hanging between them. It’s not a secret, not exactly, but it’s just another one of the unspoken sentiments that they don’t dare to utter aloud for fear of breaking the peace of whatever they were. Friends, maybe, but also…

Gigi was more than a friend to her. Gigi was more, more than she could’ve ever expected when they first met. She wants to hold her at night, to hear her fond grumbling as she hangs up Crystal’s clothes pile for her when she stays over. She wants to kiss her when she looks so pretty in the nights they spend side by side, and introduce her as her partner to the people she meets instead of trying to explain what Gigi was to her.

Not-quite-roommate/best friend/crush doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as well as girlfriend does. 

“I’m excited for you to get home,” Crystal replies, and she tries not to sound like she misses her too much. Gigi’s resulting smile is beautiful—she’s beaming in a way she doesn’t often show to people who aren’t close to her. An unfiltered smile, excited and innocent and so entirely heartwarming. Crystal looks down to the pile of now-matched socks, separating the ones that were Gigi’s and putting them in the drawer of Gigi’s clothes that she has at her apartment. She tries to stifle a yawn, and she takes a second to move the rest of the laundry out of the way before slipping under the covers, shifting with the laptop to get comfortable in bed. She fills the silence for a few minutes with a story about a cute cat she saw earlier that day, but before she can talk too much longer, Gigi cuts her off. 

“It’s late.” 

You’re tired, go to sleep.

“No.”

I want to stay up with you.

So much of their conversation is subtext, the words they’re saying not making a complete conversation to anyone but themselves. It’s how they often operated at nights, when the stress of the day had eaten away at the filters from their brains to their mouths. It’s a miracle Crystal hadn’t confessed everything—rather, it was the fear of ruining the most important thing to her that choked the words down every time they threatened to fall from her lips.

“But you have to wake up at—”

“I miss you.” 

Gigi gives her a sympathetic look, her gaze softening. There were pronounced dark circles under her eyes and she knew Gigi could see them, even through the shitty laptop webcam and the way it’s balanced on her stomach as she lays in bed. Crystal wishes she knew how to put on filters, because then she could at least hide behind a weird filter, but here, like this? Gigi can see straight through her.

“Oh, honey,” Gigi tuts, and her voice is soft. It’s soft in the way that she saves just for Crystal, gentle and warm and kind. It’s times like these when she feels like she could have a chance, that her feelings might not be as one-sided as she thinks. “I miss you too. I’m right here, I won’t leave you, go to bed.”

Crystal pouts, trying for petulance, but her eyes are drooping and she can’t stop another yawn from escaping. “I wanna stay up ‘nd talk to you, Geege,” she says, her eyes closing and her words slurring together as they often tend to do when she gets to be a certain amount of tired.  

“I’m here, baby cakes. I’m here right now, and I’ll be back in a few days. And we can go to my apartment this time, because my bed’s bigger,” Gigi says, and she keeps going, saying more about what they would be doing together in a few days, but Crystal doesn't hear it, lulled to sleep by Gigi’s familiar cadence and the comfort of knowing that in only a few days, they’d be back to normal.

In a few days, if she’s brave enough, she’ll get the courage to tell Gigi how she feels. In a few days, if everything goes well, she’ll get to call Gigi her girlfriend.

[xjoonchildx]

So I know you won’t be ready to answer questions about the last chapter of Kanalia anytime soon - so please just keep this in your inbox until you’re ready - but I got discussion Q’s *pulls out notebook* 😂🤓📓

1. I know this will be a FAQ so toss it on the pile: Did the King ever question the legitimacy of the baby? Like - I’m personally assuming that is Lord Jung’s son at the end of the chapter - and that has to be complicated with a capital C. Watching his son grow up in the palace unable to raise him as his own? Ouch. But Namjoon had to wonder…considering he’s been raw dogging two women on the reg with zero babies to show for it up until Lord Jung started walking around with some pep in his step and avoiding direct eye contact. Kinda suspish-and the King isn’t stupid after all.

2. What’s the relationship between the king and queen like now? Is it more strained bc both of them are in love with someone they have to hide? Is it less strained bc now everyone is content with their side piece and at least there’s an heir? Is he aware she’s having an affair at all (I assume no)?

3. What’s the consequence? Like affairs have a funny way of eventually coming to light. Maybe a maid sees something, or one of the Kings guards catches them in a castle corner at 3am…what would happen? Would lord Jung and the queen be banished? Executed? Shot out of a catapult into the abyss?

4. Is the queen even okay? Like…yes she finally has a baby and knows lord Jung feels the same way about her and that’s lovely, but will it be enough? Won’t she eventually feel the weight of not being able to be seen with him, to love him in broad daylight instead of in the middle of the night before the sun comes up? Raising their son as someone else’s instead of as a proper family? Is she jealous of Boram, who can raise her children with the man she loves and not have to hide it because it isn’t literal treason? Like, that doesn’t seem like it’s a much better situation than the one she was in. I still feel awful for her.

I have way more questions than this tbh but I don’t want to be annoying. If you couldn’t tell - I’m obsessed with this fic. It’s brilliant, you’re amazing. That’s all lol

HELLO SWEET ANON i am finally going to answer your great questions! (so sorry for the wait 😭💕)

So as to number 1: The King is not a dummy, that's for sure. I think there will definitely be a moment when he questions the baby's legitimacy, but in the absence of his own heirs (and to save face) he's going to just keep it pushing. I agree with you, though, that it's more complicated for Lord Jung who has basically agreed to give the Queen this thing she desperately wants knowing that he'll never be able to have it fully.

Number 2: The King most definitely has his suspicions about the Queen having an affair (specifically with Hoseok lmao) because that veil that's been over her face for much of the fic just ... lifts. It's not something any of the people involved would confirm and/or confess, but at the end of the day, the King gets what he wants in a roundabout way -- his lover and the public wife his people expect him to keep. This is absolutely a "don't ask, don't tell" situation and could flip on a dime if anyone were to be careless and let that arrangement come to light.

Number 3: lmaooooo at the catapult? i'm wheezing. i mean, i don't see namjoon as the execution kind of King but i do see him as an expulsion kind of King. for people who are so wrapped up in the appearance of honor and not bringing shame on their names and titles, i imagine they'd try to be as hush-hush about things as possible. however, this is not something i see happening because both the Queen and Lord Jung are very disciplined people who would take every precaution not to get caught.

Number 4: the queen is ... better than okay. she's gotten to experience things she thought would never be within her reach and she has the one thing that she's always dreamed of. she's already gotten to experience what her life could be without these things, but under the circumstances -- this is more than enough to make her feel content. for her -- being chosen, being wanted by lord jung -- and becoming a mother and getting to experience all that comes with it, is more than she could have ever expected to have in the precarious position she's in.

happiness for everyone looks a little different 💕