#it's been like 2 months from the last one of these

[space-invading-pigeon]

Hellfire Adopts Steve Pt. 2

Pt 1

Eddie may be repeating his senior year, but he's no idiot. He's intuitive, a quick thinker, and generally, he's an excellent judge of character. Which is exactly why he protested Gareth's decision to drag Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High and current King of Don't Fuck With Me, to lunch with Hellfire.

Jeff and Freak are both genuinely terrified to have His Royal Highness picking at subpar mashed potatoes in the uncomfortable plastic chair across from them; to his credit, Steve Harrington seemed unbothered by the situation, even as Princess Nancy Wheeler and her own little pet outcast Jonathan pass him on the way to their own table. Eddie watches with growing interest as Steve boredly ignores Nancy's attempt to catch his eye (it's almost hilarious- he'd been at the Halloween party last month where Nancy got absolutely shitfaced and then screamed at Steve in front of the entire student body, and yet here they are, Nancy trying awkwardly to speak to Steve and Steve resolutely going about his business).

Gareth stammers through a story about their latest DnD campaign, his round face practically glowing with excitement as he uses the peas on his tray to illustrate what their party had been up against. Eddie fully expects Steve to say something rude, dousing Gareth's smile and deserving every bit of ire Eddie can muster, but Steve just smiles at Gareth and ruffles his hand through the unkempt curls Eddie's been trying to get Gareth to take care of.

From there it only gets weirder. Steve seems to have taken a real shine to Gareth and is nothing short of a perfect gentleman to Jeff and Freak, but he loves to bicker with Eddie. Honestly, Eddie's impressed at just how much Steve seems to like bitching at people.

Steve is also surprisingly responsible? After that first lunch, Steve is around all the time; he shows up to Hellfire meetings with his backpack full of homework and a Tupperware full of something delicious (Eddie had nearly cried the first time he took a bite of Steve's macaroni), only to completely ignore their entire session to study. Occasionally, the walkie Steve carries with him whenever they aren't in school will crackle to life, and Steve will make himself scarce pretty quickly.

Overall, Steve is awesome. Eddie hates to admit it, but watching such a prim and proper guy emotionally destroy someone for commenting on Freak's size, and Eddie just knows that the damage done to Tommy Hagan's car after Gareth showed up to Hellfire with a busted lip and glassy eyes was Steve's fault.

========

Steve is actually really enjoying his time in Hellfire. He doesn't really mention it to the kids, and both Nancy and Jonathan are still avoiding him, so Steve sees it as a win: he gets to make friends who haven't seen him get his ass beat by interdimensional horrorterrors that have ruined dogs and flowers for him forever, he gets to learn more about the game his new little brother is obsessed with, and innocent kids don't have to bear the brunt of King Billy's reign of terror.

Gareth decides almost instantly that he likes Steve; not only because he saved Gareth from bullies or brings them food better even than Wayne Munson's, but because Steve always listens to his DnD stories. Jeff and Freak (who Steve will only refer to by his Government Name, Melvin) grow to like him as well, not at all encouraged by the food Steve brings or (on one memorable occasion) the incredibly realistic melee weapon, straight out of a flick like Red Dawn, that they found under his seat one day.

[lnfours]

focal point ☆ chapter 2 | l.n

summary: you’re running out of time to start your project and lando’s really trying to get you to agree to his ultimatum, despite your constant disagreeing.

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy!lando x sunshine!reader, banter per usual, kind of shitty writing, and some more setting the scene.

series masterlist

the sunlight shone in through the tall windows of the library as you scribbled in your notebook. highlighters and pens scattered across the table, laptop sitting in front of you with a list of assignments you needed to get done this week.

the headphones on your head helped block out any noise from the outside world, free of any distractions from the other students in the upstairs portion of the large building. however, they also drowned out the noise of footsteps approaching behind you.

a tap on your shoulder almost sent you flying out of your seat, turning around and tugging an ear cuff off to be met with green eyes and brown, floppy, messy curls that clearly had endured the wind outside. you immediately sighed, “what do you want, norris?”

“well beings you left me on read,” he wore that stupid, signature smirk that you really just wanted to wipe off his face, “i figured i’d come to you with the proposal in person.”

“has anyone told you how insufferable you are?”

he pulled the chair out from across the table, dropping his backpack to the floor before leaning back in the wooden chair, “no, they’re usually telling me i’m irresistible,”

“their standards must be pretty low.”

he shrugged, watching as you closed the lid of your laptop, placing the pen that once had been in your hand down on the lined paper. if there was one thing you knew about lando norris, other than the fact that he was undoubtedly annoying, he was also stubborn as fuck.

“let me get this right,” you started, “you want to be my model for my project so that in return i help you in econ, right?”

“yeah,” he said, “you scratch-“

“‘i scratch your back, you scratch mine’, yeah, whatever,” you said, “here’s my question, why don’t you just go to the tutoring center for help? like everyone else?”

“because i know you,” he said, “and because there’s a long ass waitlist for a tutor.”

“maybe you should’ve went earlier in the semester,” you shrugged.

“wasn’t failing the course til now,” he had an answer for everything, didn’t he?

“look, you’re running out of time to find someone for your little painting, and i’m one test score away from having to take the class again and miss graduation in the spring. why don’t we just be civil for the next month or so, help each other out, and then we can go back to hating each other as much as you’d like.”

maybe he had a point. you were running out of time to get started and despite your best efforts in not trying to feel bad for him, you kind of did. econ was a hard course, even you had struggled with it last semester. and you really didn’t want to be the reason why he misses graduation if you didn’t help him.

it wasn’t really that bad of an ultimatum, surely it could’ve been worse. it’s not like you were going to fall in love with him or anything.

“alright, fine,” you said, making him smile and cheer silently, “but, we‘re doing things my way.”

he put his hands up in fake surrender, “whatever you say,”

you began packing your things into your bag, “can we start tonight?”

“yeah, my last class ends at six. ‘m free after,”

“sounds good,” you said, “i’ll text you which building and floor is mine.”

he nodded, that stupid smirk popping up on his face again, “it’s a date then.”

you scoffed, throwing your bag over your shoulder before calling over your shoulder, “definitely not!”

you got back to your apartment, throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter before spotting your roommate, lily, on the couch. an episode of the show she had been trying to convince you to watch on the tv, but her head leaned back to smile at you softly.

“how was the library?”

you hummed, rummaging in the fridge before grabbing a water bottle from it, “it was fine until the devil showed up.”

she laughed softly, “‘the devil?’”

“yeah,” you plopped down next to her, “remember the guy i was telling you about the other day? oscar’s roommate who asked me to tutor him in exchange for being my model for the project?”

she hummed, “yeah, what did he just show up?”

“unfortunately. i think oscar must’ve mentioned to him that i go to the library on fridays to work on assignments. the guy literally tracked me down to convince me to agree to his plan in person because i left him on read the other night.”

she laughed softly, “gotta give it to him, at least he’s committed,”

“to getting on my nerves? oh, one hundred percent.”

“i mean, at least he’s offering to help you too,” she said, “plus, is he really all that bad?”

“just wait til you meet him,” you mumbled, “what’re your plans for tonight?”

she looked at the time on her phone, “after this episode i’m gonna start getting ready to head to the cafe. promised someone i’d meet them tonight,”

you wiggled your eyebrows, bumping her shoulder, “ooh, is it that cute guy from your chemistry class who you won’t shut up about?”

“one, i do shut up about him,” she sent you a pointed look but her face broke out into a small smile shortly after, “and two, maybe, who knows?”

“lils this is great!” you smiled, “i told you, he’s definitely into you!”

“i hope so. part of me wants to believe you, but the other part is telling me he just said ‘yes’ out of pity.”

“well then he clearly doesn’t know what he’s missing out on if he did,” you stood from the couch, “wear that black long sleeve you have, you look hot in it.”

“i hate you,” she laughed as you ventured to your room, heading to start setting up the things you needed for tonight.

“no you don’t!” you giggled back.

you made your way into your room and gathered all the supplies you were going to need in order to start your project tonight. humming along to a tune that was stuck in your head, you glanced at the clock and realized that time had passed a little quicker than you had thought.

lando should be here any minute.

and as if right on queue, you heard lily’s voice through the apartment, “y/n, lando’s here!”

you made your way to the living room where he was standing talking to lily, backpack still on his shoulders. he sported a backwards cap over his curls with a black hoodie and grey sweatpants to match. little curls peeked out from underneath the hat and-

why were you subtly checking him out?

“okay well you guys have fun,” lily smiled softly, “i’m heading out. it was nice meeting you, lando! i’ll see you guys later!”

her voice brought you back to the present tense, lando bidding her a soft smile and a wave, “nice meeting you, too!”

“bye! good luck!” you called back, causing her to let out a chuckle and a playful eye-roll as she’ll as she headed out the door.

“so,” he said after a beat of silence, following as you led him to your room, “what is it that you need me to do?”

you grabbed your sketchbook from your desk as he sat at the edge of the bed, “you can do whatever you want as long as you’re still enough for me to be able to come up with a draft.”

“sounds good,”

“good, let’s get this whole thing over with, yeah?”

[v1sexual]

that’s a wrap 🎬 ; vi (arcane)

a behind the senes arcane modern au ! (bcs wtf was that ending)

note : this fic (like all of my other ones) are a bit (a lot actually) self indulgent. this will also be in a third person’s point of view because i’m trying to get used (and get better) writing in a 3rd person’s pov. this is also lowkey a vi x reader *sighs*, i just love my gf so bad ya’ll.

p.s. the character names are also their names in ‘real life’ (because i said so).

cw : spoilers for arcane act 3, swearing,

unedited & not proofread

ever since she got her dream role as one of the leading cast in arcane, she started filming bits and pieces of how the show came to life (with the consent of everyone involved of course). since the filming of season 1 up to season 2 act three, (name) has compiled an hour worth of uncut behind the scenes content that she and the cast planned on releasing during the opening premiere for the last act of arcane.

“you ready shortcake?” (name)’s girlfriend called out, just as she finished putting a thin sheet of lipgloss on her lips. “almost done violet,” she called out, putting her shoes one.

(name) took one last look at herself in the full body mirror, admiring her hard work. she wore a dark red dress paired with sheer black elbow length gloves, and black platform heels with red accents (that violet gifted you a couple months ago).

after shoving her phone inside a red clutch, (name)’s bedroom door opened. violet stood in front of her. she wore a two-piece suit with a dark red button-up blouse tucked inside her pants, the first couple of buttons of the blouse were undone, and her hair (at least the ones on the side of her head that wasn’t shaved) was in a messy slick back.

“absolutely gorgeous,” vi whispered under her breath. she walked towards (name), she placed her hands on her girlfriend’s hips before leaning down to kiss her. “flatterer,” (name) giggled as she pressed a finger against vi’s lips, preventing vi from kissing her.

vi nipped at her girlfriend’s gloved finger, “i speak the truth, and nothing but the truth.” she whispered.

(name) hummed, smiling lovingly as her girlfriend. “thank you baby, you look amazing yourself. hot even.”

a loud noise came from (name) and vi’s phone, interrupting their moment.

“we need to go violet, it’s almost time for the premiere.” (name) exclaimed excitedly, breaking away from her girlfriend. she held onto vi’s arm and practically dragged her outside.

“i don’t get a kiss before we go?” vi pouted, (name) rolled her eyes before pressing a quick peck on vi’s lips then proceeded to get inside the passenger seat of her girlfriend’s car. vi sighed, shaking her head before she went inside the driver seat and thinking how she’d make you pay later for not giving her a proper kiss.

ꕀ

let’s just say that everyone was bawling after premiering the last three episodes of arcane. (name) sat in between vi and her sister powder (whose head was resting against ekko’s shoulder) practically vibrating with excitement as the producers went on stage to thank everyone, especially the fans, for coming to the premiere.

it was almost time to present the special behind the scenes video (name) made. everyone knew of the special little project but no one has really seen it, not the director, the producers, or even her loving girlfriend. soon enough, she was called on stage for a little speech and to present the video.

“hi everyone,” she started, voice shaking a bit. “first of all i would like to thank you for coming to tonight’s premiere. it’s been an honor to work with you for the past couple of years. as you all know, i’ve been compiling tons of little snippets of us ever since the production of arcane has started. all in all, i’ve collected an hour’s worth of behind the scenes content. since i didn’t want to keep all of us in here for another hour or so i’ve edited the video and out came the 10 minute behind the scenes compilation that i’m about to play. but don’t worry, i’ve already uploaded the original uncut version to the shared online album for everyone to view.”

a series of murmurs and giggles filled the audience as (name) gave herself a second to pause. “anyways,” you cleared your throat. “without further ado, i present, arcane : behind all the heartbreak and drama, enjoy!”

when (name) sat down next to her girlfriend, the video started rolling.

ꕀ

scene one.

the camera unfocused and focused as a young looking (name) had her face up to close to it’s lens. she had a cheeky smile on her face.

“hi guys! it’s (name) and today is the first day of filming arcane!” she then proceeded to flip the camera and did a little trailer tour. she the went outside where she introduced everyone in the cast as well as the director and producers.

scene two.

the video cuts to what seems to be the scene where the battle between silco and vander happened. (name) shows the audience the set, some of the special effects, and had the actresses for young vi and powder do a little question and answer for her.

“hey girls!” she called out. the two children ran towards her, giddy smiles on their faces. it was right after filming the scene of vi and powder’s falling out, when vi called powder a jinx.

“how does the nose feel?” (name) asked, gingerly touching child powder’s nose that hade fake blood dripping from it. the child shrugged, replying “i’ve had worse. she punches like a little girl.” which made the tween who played young vi roll her eyes.

“that’s a bunch of bull! she cried actual tears, like real tears! she totally wasn’t acting”

(name) sighed and left the two children to playfully argue before the camera cuts to vander and silco. the two men were taking a nap on the side of the set, both had their arms crossed and head leaning against the wall. “they truly are brother,” she spoke into the camera.

the scene cuts again, this time (name) was with the kids who played mylo and claggor.

“as you can see i am not dead,” mylo shouted at the camera, a cheeky grin on his face. while claggor imitates mylo’s death scene, his hand clutching where the steel bar pierces mylo’s skin before dramatically falling to the ground and laughing his ass off.

scene three.

(name)’s camera was propped up against a mirror, she was currently in the hair and make-up booth with jayce, viktor, and mel. she held her mic against her, “so my dearest mel, how does it feel to have everyone wish they were jayce during that one scene?” (name) wiggled her eyebrows as mel began laughing uncontrollably.

“all i can say is i’d rather have the beautiful zaunite enforcer rather than the golden boy,” mel said jokingly into the mic, referring to (name)’s character in the show. making everyone in the dressing room laugh.

the scene then cuts to what seems to be (name) reading people’s tweets regarding the show to the rest of the cast.

“jayce this one’s directed to you,” (name) said in between laughs. “i hate hate hate jayce talis. imagine being in the lap of a literal goddess but all you is cry and whine about your historic twink bag fumble.”

jayce was dumbfounded as everyone doubled up in laughter. “what the fuck is that supposed to mean?!?” he shouted. poor boy looked so confused, he looked like he had stroke trying to understand what historic twink bag fumble meant.

“this last one is for vik,” (name) started as the laughter died down (jayce still consfused in the background, asking vi what ‘historic twink bag fumble’ meant). “one of the fans said, ‘can i lick-“ almost immediately (name) started laughing.

“they said ‘can i lick viktor’s hextechticles.’” almost immediately everyone started laughing again, the sounds of boisterous laughter filled the room.

viktor’s cheeks tinted pink, he gripped his stomach as he laughed. “i have no idea how to respond to that.” he wheezed into the mic.

scene four.

“good morning everyone!” (name) exclaimed, waving at the camera. “we have my fave girl with us. the one, the only, caitlyn!”

the blue haired girl grinned, “but i’m not your favorite-“ she said in a teasing tone before got she cut off.

“you are my favorite girl,” (name) huffed, a visible blush paints her cheek as caitlyn rolled her eyes playfully.

she then proceeded to do a quick set tour, showing the audience how it really looked like without any cgi and all that jazz. the scene ends with (name) and caitlyn yapping about routines or rituals that helped them get in the mood to play their characters.

scene five.

this clip was taken during the filming of season two. (name) smiled at camera, her fingers on her lips in a shushing expression then pans the camera behind her. she was in one of the dressing rooms, and in the corner was sevika, powder (dressed up as jinx), and isha, who were sound asleep.

“look at this cute little dysfunctional family,” (name) whispered. sevika had powder leaning on her shoulder as isha was sprawled on her lap.

scene six.

“don’t fret ya’ll she’s alive!” (name) shouted at the camera, holding isha out like a sacrificial lamb. the camera seemed like it was held by someone significantly taller than her, the angle looking a bit funny as she held isha up.

the child laughed, (name) then propped the kid on her hip. powder then walked in-frame, she took isha from (name)’s hold and helped the kid up on her shoulders. “SHE’S ALIVEEEE!” powder shouted before running around the set, her hands supporting the kid’s weight.

“i swear if she dropped the kid-“ a voice from behind the camera mumbled.

“they’re gonna be fine vi,” (name) laughed. “let them be.”

scene seven.

during this scene, instead of the usual (name) who filmed most (if not all) the videos, it was cait and powder who held the camera. a cheeky grin etched on their lips. the camera then flipped to show their surroundings.

lo and behold, it was vi. she was cocooned in a thick blanket snoring away without a care in the world. cait then proceeded to walk towards her. once close enough, she held the camera at an angle to show (name) who was tucked between vi’s legs, her head resting against vi’s chest with the blanket almost covering her whole body.

“aren’t they the cutest,” cait snickered.

“can’t beat the dating allegations now,” powder replied with a snort.

scene eight.

“i’m actually bawling,” (name) whispered into the camera before adjusting it to show the rest of the set. the others are currently in the middle of filming a scene for act 3, she zoomed the camera to powder and ekko. they were dancing as the song ‘ma meilleure ennemie’ played in the background.

mylo and claggor’s hushed voices joined (name)’s as she continued to film, then suddenly the camera was yanked away and mylo’s face entered the frame.

“for anyone wondering, they’re actually dating in real life.” mylo whispered, claggor then appeared next to him with an unamused expression. “that was supposed to be a secret! they’re not out in the public yet.” he scolded.

“well, you can tell by the chemistry and tension between them. doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. have you seen the dating rumours?”

(name)’s sigh was visibly heard before snatching the camera. “if by then ekko and power hasn’t come out as a couple yet i’ll just cut this part out.” she murmured.

scene nine.

“what is everyone’s fave song from the series?” (name) said, reading aloud the question written in a piece of paper.

“that’s a tough one,” ambessa said.

“probably to ashes and blood,” sevika exclaimed, then nods of agreement and murmurs filled the room.

“mine’s a no brainer,” heimerdinger piped. “my favorite song is spin the wheel, sung by yours truly.” everyone laughed, a couple people agreed as others began playfully teasing heimerdinger.

(name) smiled at her friends before looking at the camera. “my favorite has to be our love or ma meillure ennemie.”

“enemy by imagine dragons!”

everyone then proceeded to sing the song, goofily making sound effects and lowering their voices.

scene ten.

(name) panned the camera up, she zoomed in on vi and powder as they acted one of the most heartbreaking scenes in act 3. vi’s gauntlet clutched powder’s hand as the blue haired girl dangled, vander, who was dressed in the pre-cgi warwick costume, held her, the wires supporting their weights.

tears streamed down vi’s face as she looked down at her sister, she opened her mouth to deliver her line but nothing came out.

“crap, i forgot the line. wait.” she called out, smiling sheepishly.

the director sighed, “cut! let’s roll that again.”

powder laughed and shakes her head. “you fucking idiot.”

“cut it out you two,” vander scolded, his deep voice menacing yet playful.

“yeah, yeah.” vi replied, then held a thumbs up to signal that she was ready.

(name)’s laughs can be heard from behind the camera, she then flipped it to show her face. “you guys are about to hate every single thing about this scene i just know it.” caitlyn appeared next to her, she nursed a cup of coffee and smiled at the camera.

“be sure to keep your eyes open though,” was all caitlyn said before winking and walking away.

ꕀ

pictures taken from the set began to appear in a slideshow as the video ended. almost everyone was in shambles, especially the fans who were invited to come to the premiere. a round of applause echoed across the room as the producers step onto the stage again for the closing remarks.

the event ended a couple hours later than expected. the cast mingled, had a late dinner and a couple of drinks. everyone was enjoying themselves and having fun one last time before they went their separate ways.

“sad to think how i won’t be seeing everyone everyday now,” (name) whispered sadly as she and vi sat in one corner of the room. “i sure will miss everyone.”

vi draped an arm over her girlfriend’s shoulders, she leaned down until her face was adjacent to (name)’s. “not us though.” vi smiled teasingly.

“won’t you get tired of me though?” (name) asked, her hands cupped vi’s cheeks. her girlfriend snorted, acting as if she had just told a funny joke. “not by a long shot cupcake.”

the two leaned forward, their noses touching, lips only centimetres apart. just as about their lips met, cait’s voice startled them.

“i’m gonna have to borrow my best girl for a second vi,” she teased. “you can have (name) all to yourself later but for now we need to dance.”

the next thing (name) knew she was being dragged to dance floor by caitlyn, loud music blasting as her friend swayed. she looked back at vi who shrugged at her, a smile playing on her lips. (name) smiled before blowing her girlfriend a kiss. soon enough everybody joined them on the dance floor. ekko, powder, and isha danced in a circle, sevika who was reluctantly dragged by mel, jayce and viktor who gawked at heimerdinger (who was absolutely smashing the dance floor by the way), and then there was mylo who was talking to the dj as claggor did his best in becoming wingman of the year. some stayed seated and chose to drink, like silco, vander, and ambessa, who watched the others danced.

soon enough, the night finally ended. a couple people who were sober chaperoned those who were drunk, some opted to stay in nearby hotels. after saying their goodbyes, vi and (name) drove back to their shared apartment.

“that was fun,” (name) yawned as she plopped down on the couch, vi knelt in front of her started taking off her girlfriend’s shoes.

“tired?” she asked, rubbing the soles of (name)’s sore feet making the smaller girl groan. she responded with a soft ‘yes’, before closing her eyes. the sensation of vi’s lips making it’s way up her thigh startled her, her eyes fluttered open as she looked down.

vi smiled pressing another kiss on her girlfriend’s thigh before hiking them up and resting them on her shoulders. (name)’s dress pooled at her upper thigh, exposing her soft skin. “you sure?” vi whispered.

“mmm,” (name) hummed. “maybe not too tired.” she answered, making her girlfriend chuckle.

“good,” vi murmured against (name)’s skin. “because you’re in for a long night shortcake.”

[loveesiren]

Baby Daddy (Pt. 1)

Rafe Cameron x Reader

A/n: Wrote this a while back and got a lot of requests for a part 2 so I will post it as well! Along with a blurb I've written. Never really planned to make this a series but if you guys want more just let me know! :)

Warnings: Light smut, language, cocaine, angst, pregnancy, mention of abortion, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rafe thrusted into you one final time before finishing. Cumming deep inside of you for the fourth time tonight. "Fuckkkkk," He moaned before pulling out of you and laying on his back. "You're so fucking tight."

"Yep," You said dryly as you pulled your panties and shorts back on.

"Where are you going?" Rafe asked as he turned to look at you.

"Uhhh, home?" You tell him. "Why would I stay?"

"Whatever," Rafe said before rolling over and pouring a line of coke out on his night stand.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your bag before leaving his room and storming through the house out the front door.

The walk home was boring. You put your headphones in and slowly danced your way back to the Chateau. As you did every fucking night.

After your mom split and John B's dad went missing you were John B's legal guardian. You were step siblings but his dad raised you when your mom left and for that you were forever grateful. Even though you were a little older, you were really close with John B and his friends. You guys did everything together. Told eachother everything. Except for this.

You'd been sleeping with Rafe for 6 months now. It all started after a Christmas party last December. You were working your shift at the club, way more tipsy than you should have been for being on the clock. A drunk Rafe Cameron started talking you up and you flirted back. The boy was handsome enough. Granted, he was a fucking dick. But you just wanted to get off.

He took you into the bathroom on your break and absolutely rocked your world. No one had ever made you cum like he did. The way you could feel yourself release around his cock made you both fucking dissolve into the earth.

From that day forward, you guys fucked constantly. But you never told a soul and neither did he. Kooks and Pogues don't hook up.

______________

Your eyes flickered open. "Ugh," You groaned as you tried to sit up. You were in your room, Kiara asleep next to you. She slept with you every night since her parents kicked her out. She was your closest girlfriend.

A wave of nausea washed over you and you hopped out of bed and booked it to the bathroom. You expelled the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Gasping for air in between heaves.

"Are you okay?" Kiara was at the door now, crouching beside you to hold your hair back.

"Must be the flu," You said before vomiting again. "I didn't even drink last night."

"Alright let me get you some water and a pillow. You're probably gonna stay in here today."

You rested by the toilet and drank your water but by 11am you were feeling 100%.

You walked out into the kitchen and greeted everyone.

"Don't get us sick," John B said, stepping back from you.

"I feel fine now," You said. "I'm actually hungry!"

Sarah and Kiara eyed you for a moment. "Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You said as you popped some waffles in the toaster.

"Are you pregnant?" Kie asked.

You paused for a moment. You and Rafe never used condoms. And had you been taking your birth control lately? You were always bad at taking meds.

"Aha, no. No way." You responded.

John B, JJ, and Pope sat awkwardly.

You looked to the floor as you pressed your hand to your stomach. Thoughts racing through your head as you tried to remember the last time you had your period. "Fuck."

"Do you have a secret lover?" Sarah teased.

"John B, give me the keys to the Twinkie." You demanded.

John B fished them out of his pocket and handed them to you and you rushed out the door.

"Y/N, where are you going?!" Kiara called after you but you ignored her.

You hopped into the van and drove off quickly. When you pulled up to the drug store you ran inside and and bought five pregnancy tests and a gallon of water.

You leaned back in your seat and sighed after chugging as much water as you could.

You considered texting Rafe but you voted against it. You needed to be sure.

You drove back to the Chateau, grocery bag in hand as you locked yourself in the bathroom.

Two hours later you were standing over the counter, staring at the five plus signs set before you.

You couldn't help but cry. "Fuck..."

"Y/N?" You heard Sarah and Kie outside your door. You leaned back and swallowed. You had no idea what to do but telling a friend might be a good start.

You open the door and yank them into the bathroom. "Y/N! What's going on?" Sarah asks.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh before nodding your head towards the bathroom counter.

Sarah and Kie look at eachother before slowly walking towards where the five pregnancy tests sat. Five. And they were all positive.

"Oh shit, Y/N..." Sarah said.

Kiara swallowed. "Uhm...is this like a congratulations or a 'we need to go to the clinic right now' situation?"

"I don't know," You said, joining them by the sink. "I should probably talk to...to..him." Your eyes fell to your feet.

"Who, Y/N?" Kiara asked. "We can take you there, we're here for you."

You laugh and throw your head back.

"Y/N...Who is he?" Sarah asks.

You bite your lip as you look down to meet her eyes.

She was confused and concerned. She wanted to help but her and Kie were both nervous about what was going on.

"Rafe," You said softly, barely a whisper.

Kiara and Sarah looked at you with wide eyes. "Wait..Rafe? My brother?? Rafe's the dad?!" Sarah was practically screaming now.

"Shhhh!" You said as you ran and covered her mouth. "Yes, it's Rafe's okay! Can we please not scream it to the whole world?!"

Sarah was silent as you backed away from her.

"Since when have you been fucking Rafe Cameron?!" Kiara asks.

"Y/N, he's a piece of shit!" Sarah added.

"Okay, listen! We've been hooking up since Christmas and...I don't know. I thought it was a one time thing but it just kept happening."

"Is that where you go every night?!" Sarah asked.

You sigh and press your tongue to your inner cheek. "Yeah."

"So you're fucking my brother," Sarah scoffs.

"You're fucking mine!" You hiss back.

Sarah rolls her eyes and shrugs. "Touche. But Rafe's a fucking dick!"

"Yeah, I'm aware." You sigh as you lean back and sink to the floor. "Should I even tell him?"

"He'd wanna know," Sarah said softly. "As much as I hate him, he loves hard."

You feel your phone buzz and pull it from your pocket. "Fuck, it's Rafe."

You coming over tonight?

"I can't do this." You begin to cry, placing your head on your knees. "Rafe doesn't even care about me. I'm just pussy to him."

"I don't know, Y/N...He's always sucked at showing his true feelings."

You shake your head before Sarah can say anything else. You grab your phone and respond.

No. We shouldn't see each other anymore.

You hesitate but press send. It breaks your heart but you know this is the right thing.

Your phone buzzes again but you ignore it.

"I'm gonna call the clinic," You say as you excuse yourself from the bathroom and go sit on the porch, lighting up a cigarette.

Your fingers hover over the screen of your phone, not being able to bring yourself to do it.

"Fuck this!" You yell as you toss your phone across the patio.

"Y/N-"

"What John B?!"

"Are you okay?"

You were pacing now, taking drags off your cigarette as you tried to catch your breath.

"You shouldn't be smoking." John B says.

You turn to look at him. "Doesn't matter," You mutter.

"You're pregnant." John B states. You turn to look at him again. Annoyed the Kie and Sarah said anything. "And no, Kie and Sarah didn't tell me. I'm just not stupid."

You sit down and sigh, dragging your cigarette again.

Your phone continues to buzz from the other side of the porch. John B goes to pick it up. When you notice him staring at it you quickly snatch it from his hands.

"Rafe?" His voice is almost a whisper.

You sigh as you take your bottom lip between your teeth. "Yeah." You respond.

You look down at your phone to see the five messages Rafe had sent you.

What? What do you mean? Why?

Y/N, I'm sorry I was a dick last night.

Please talk to me.

I'm sorry...

I need to talk to you. Please.

"Are you gonna tell him?" John B asks.

You put your head in your hands as you try to choke back tears. You had not intended to find out you were pregnant today. Nor were you prepared for your brother and all your friends to find out you'd been fucking Rafe Cameron. It was all too overwhelming.

"I don't know," You respond honestly.

John B sighs. "Look, never been a fan of Rafe. I had no clue you two were.....close." He says, motioning towards your stomach. "But I think you should think about it a little more and talk to him before you make a final decision."

You chewed on his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.

_________

You locked yourself in your room for the rest of the night. Curled up under the covers as your phone continued to vibrate.

Nonstop calls and texts from Rafe. Since when has he cared so much? He was probably just coked out and horny.

You decided to shut your phone off. He'd have to find another girl to get his dick wet. Sex was the last thing you wanted right now.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, completely unsure of what to do.

The next three days were awful. Throwing up all morning, crying all afternoon. Your friends tried to be there for you but you continued to barricade yourself in your room. You'd come out once in a while to grab some food and water and instantly go back to your bed, binge watching Jersey Shore on your lap top under the covers.

You'd kept your phone off. You really just couldn't bring yourself to talk to anyone right now. And the people you would need to talk to were right outside the door.

_______

"Oh shit," Sarah said as she stood up from her spot on the porch, getting a better view of Rafe's truck pulling up to the Chateau.

The rest of the Pogues stood up too, not fully prepared to handle this situation.

"John B!" Rafe said as he hopped out of his truck. "John B, look man, I don't have any beef with you, alright? I just really need to see Y/N."

"She's not feeling great right now, man." John B responded.

Kiara slipped away and rushed to your bedroom.

You heard knocking on your door and you groaned. "What?"

"Y/N, uhm..." Kiara begins.

"What is it, Kie? I'm sleeping."

"Rafe's here."

Your chest tightens at her words.

"I don't-I don't think he's going to leave without seeing you, Y/N."

"Fuck me!" You whisper as you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I'll be out in a second!"

Kiara goes back to where Rafe and John B are arguing on the porch. "She'll be right out."

The boys shut up and look at her.

"Thank you." Rafe said.

You hop out of bed and open your door. The light of day almost blinding as your eyes adjusted. You instantly missed the dark warmth of your bed.

You slowly make your way to the porch. Your plaid pajama shorts clung loosely to your hips while your tank top hugged you tightly. Your hair was a wavy mess. You hadn't done anything to it in days. But you really couldn't care less at this point.

You shyly step outside. Rafe's eyes flicker to you, a small smile on his lips before taking in your appearance. Concern instantly washing over his face. "Y/N, are you okay?" He asked, taking a step closer to you and reaching for your hands.

You quickly pull away from him and he frowns. "Uhm, could you guys give us a minute?" You ask the group. They all nod hesitantly and head inside.

"Why are you here, Rafe?" You ask once the two of you are alone.

"I haven't heard from you in days. I-I got worried."

You sighed and looked down to your feet.

"Look, Y/N, I'm really sorry I've been such a dick. I'm trying to quit the blow it's just so hard, ya know?"

"It's fine, Rafe. I knew what this was from the beginning." You shrug.

"I like you." He admits. You look up at him. "I like you a lot. I suck at showing it and I get why you're probably sick of me. But I need you to know you're more than just sex to me."

"W-what do you mean?" You ask confused.

Rafe lets out a slow, shaky breathe and scratches the back of his head. "I'm not good at...at showing emotions," He begins. "I don't like being vulnerable. That's why I do coke, I guess. I've just-I've never been good at the whole feelings thing and I just really didn't know how to tell you how I really felt. But when you said you didn't want to see me anymore...." He trails off, looking down to meet your gaze. "I-it hurt me..."

Your expression softens and you give him a sympathetic smile.

"And if you don't want to see me anymore, I get it. I just wanted to tell you-"

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his waist and leaning your head into his chest. He was stunned for a moment but moved to wrap his arms around you tightly, nuzzling his face into your messy hair.

"I like you too, Rafe." You admit. "And I don't want to stop seeing you. I was just scared. There is something we need to talk about..."

"Anything, sweetheart," He says as he runs his fingers up and down your spine.

You swallow and squeeze your eyes shut. "Rafe, I'm pregnant." The words leave your lips without warning and you brace yourself for whatever is coming next.

Rafe stops moving. Your body tenses as you still cling to him. After a moment, he places his hands on your shoulders and pulls you back to look at him. "What did you say?"

"I-I'm pregnant. I was going to call the clinic but I thought I should talk to you about it first and I'm sorry I ignored you the last few days I just-"

Rafe starts shaking his head. "No, no, no, no, no, baby, shhhh." He says. "I just uhm...do you want to keep it?" He asks nervously.

"I-I mean...I've just never really thought about being a mom before."

"We can move you to Tannyhill," Rafe starts. "And I'll tell my dad I need more work and we'll save up and Wheezie can babysit and-"

"Rafe!" You stop him. You can't help but laugh. "Are you saying you want to keep it? I was only going to call the clinic because I thought you wouldn't want to..."

"Yes, yes!" He says, picking you up and twirling you around. When he sets you back down he takes your face between his hands and kisses you deeply. The kiss was passionate, filled with love, unlike the hungry make out sessions that usually stole your nights.

"I'm gonna be a dad!" Rafe yelled as he jumped off the porch, full of energy.

You laughed, tears of joy filling your eyes as you heard the Pogues come back out on the porch. This went way better than you had expected.

"I take it that went well?" John B asks as he watches Rafe run around in excitement.

"I don't think I've ever seen Rafe so happy before," Sarah chuckles beside you.

"Whoo! Okay!" Rafe says as he comes back over to you, practically out of breath. He gets on his knees and places kisses along your stomach. "I'm taking you to lunch. What do you want to eat? You can have whatever you want, baby, on me."

"Rafe," You laugh, running your fingers through his hair as he keeps his lips pressed to your belly. "Can I at least shower first?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course baby. You wanna shower here? Or we could go to my house,"

"Oh God, please go to Tannyhill." Sarah says, the rest of the group agreeing with her. "This here is a shared shower."

You laugh. "Let me just grab some things and we can go,"

"Okay," Rafe agrees, smiling as he watches you disappear into the Chateau.

"You gonna take care of her? And that baby?" John B asks as he stands next to Rafe.

"Definitely," Rafe responds. "She has no idea how happy she makes me. But I'm gonna show her."

John B nods and offers a small smile.

"Ready!" You say as you come back out, duffle bag over your shoulder.

Rafe takes it from you immediately and goes to put it in his truck.

"Congratulations," John B says, pulling you into a hug.

"Thanks, JB," You smile. "I'll call you later, okay? Stay out of trouble!" You command as you walk towards the truck.

"Aye-aye," He says, saluting you.

You smile as Rafe helps you into the passenger seat. "You ready to go, Mama?" He asks, brushing his hand over your still flat stomach.

You smirk at the gesture. "Definitely."

Tags: @torturedtypewritersdept @bigenergy777 @outerbankspov @purplerose291 @shayofandoms @mirellef2001

[marril96]

Safe Haven

Chapter 2: Soft as a Smile

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x reader

Summary: After months of no contact, Agatha shows up at your door badly injured, and it’s up to you to help her.

Previous chapter.

It was Agatha's voice that shook you from the fantasy of reconciliation to the strained but steadily improving reality where she was badly injured and taking care of her was more important than daydreaming about a change in your relationship.

"Can I have a glass of water?"

"Of course!"

As if on autopilot, you leapt to your feet. You hated that you had to let go of her hands. Hated that, once again, you were the one to sever contact, however temporary it was.

The three months you'd gone without touching her had felt like an eternity.

You never wanted to part from her again.

Agatha took the glass from you with both hands. It was only then that you noticed lines, an angry red, cutting deep across her wrists. Restraints, you assumed. She must have pushed and pulled until she'd managed to get them off.

Her hands trembled, and, instinctively, you reached to help her hold the glass up to her mouth. She threw you a brief glance, embarrassed, ashamed at needing help at such a basic task as drinking water.

"It's okay," you assured her. She had nothing to be ashamed of. It was the people who did it to her that should be ashamed, though you doubted their kind was familiar with the concept.

As Agatha finished, and you laid the glass on the table beside the supplies you'd gathered for her care, you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. A wordless repetition of your words. It was okay. You were here, and you loved her; temporary weakness didn't change that.

Even if it was permanent, it wouldn't change a thing.

Powerful or not, at full strength or injured, she was your girl. She would always be your girl.

Agatha's arms shot up, a gesture you'd come to know by heart. When she wanted affection, she took it. When you needed it, she gave it to you. No words necessary.

You allowed her to pull you to her and bury her face in your stomach. Instinct prompted you to reach for her, to hold on to her, most likely too tightly considering the condition she was in, but she didn't utter a word of complaint, so you allowed yourself to get lost in the moment. To get lost in her, so fragile, so vulnerable, wrapped around you like a child in need of comfort.

You hoped you could provide it.

You hoped you would be good enough.

"I love you so much," you said, your heart brimming with it, ready to burst. "I know you don't trust me right now, and you have every right not to, but, please, trust that."

"Would I be here if I didn't trust you?" Agatha asked.

"I don't deserve it."

"Neither do I, yet here you are."

Quite a pair the two of you made. A match made in hell, some might say. As if that was a bad thing.

She knew this was the safest place for her. Not just because of the protection spell, but because you were here. She knew you wouldn't let anyone lay a hand on her. If hunters were to come knocking, you would kill them without a second thought.

For hunting her. For hurting her.

You'd killed for her before, and you would do it again in a heartbeat.

"You deserve the world," you said, and meant it; every syllable, every word. You kept on holding her, kept on pressing her to you as if to make sure that she was real. To make sure that this wasn't a dream, and you were going to wake up any moment now, cold and alone.

"I know," Agatha said with feigned arrogance, prompting you to chuckle. "Right back at you, honey."

The two of you stayed that way for a few moments, engulfed in each other, lost in the embrace you'd both been craving for all these months. Not having her with you was hell. The words you'd said to her last spinning around your head in an endless loop was an even worse one.

It was her who initiated the parting. "All right, honey, I'm digging the moment, but I need to breathe."

Though unwilling to do so, you instantly released her. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not any more than breathing does," she said in a jovial tone that you assumed she put on for your sake. "That's what happens when you get kicked in the ribs for hours. Jot it down for future reference."

Your teeth grit to the point of pain. Fists balled, nails digging into your skin.

They would die for that.

There would be blood.

"After I clean you up, I'll make you a potion." You sucked at potions, but she could guide you to doing it right.

"Don't bother. Whatever they shot me up with is blocking all magic inside me. It wouldn't do shit."

Fuck! "Then I'll be extra gentle."

"That's a first," she said with a naughty grin.

You quirked up an eyebrow. "I don't recall you complaining."

"Because I'm not."

"Then what are you doing?"

Being a little shit.

"Making small talk."

"Ah. Of course."

You missed this. The casual atmosphere, the playful banter, that pucker of her lips that you found to be the most adorable thing in the world.

It almost made you forget she had just escaped brutal torture.

One look at her face, however, was enough to remind you of the horrifying fact.

"I'll be careful, but if I hurt you, just say so and I'll stop," you said, plopping down onto a seat opposite Agatha on the couch and reaching for the rag you'd prepared.

She gave a small nod. Her eyes were on your hands, tracking your every movement. Trusting, but verifying.

Wetting the rag, you gently dabbed around her mouth. Blood slid off her skin with ease. If only it were that easy to remove the bruises. If only a piece of fabric soaked in warm water would take away her pain.

As soon as her face was clean, you moved to her wrists. She let out a hiss as the rag brushed against the thin cut, still open, still raw.

"Sorry," you said. "There's some dirt in there. I need to clean it out."

"It's fine," Agatha assured you.

She let you finish your work, first on her left wrist, and then her right one, gritting her teeth throughout. Pushing through the pain, through the clear discomfort.

"What did they want from you?" you asked in an attempt to distract her. Hunters usually killed witches on sight. As much as they hated your kind, they didn't keep you. Not even to torture you.

They had to have wanted something from her. Something she either couldn't or didn't want to give them.

"Information," Agatha said.

"About what?"

She instantly averted her eyes, focusing on you wrapping bandages around her wrists.

"We can talk when you're ready," you assured her, giving one of her hands a quick squeeze.

Whatever it was that they wanted to know, she clearly didn't feel like talking to you about it. Not yet, anyway.

The last thing you wanted to do was pressure her.

After what she'd been through, it was a wonder she allowed you to bring it up at all. Especially as the mere act of talking — of breathing, of living — brought her pain.

Agatha took in a big breath, face contorting with pain as she did so, then said, "They knew there were two of us."

You frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"They wanted me to tell them where my, quote, companion was."

Oh.

Oh.

Blood ran cold in your veins as the realization set in.

The hunters hadn't just wanted Agatha — they had wanted you, as well.

It was a well known fact that the two of you were a package deal. Where there was one, the other was nearby.

Why kill only one witch when they could kill two?

They must have heard rumors, or been filled in by the witch they'd had on payroll, about Agatha's traitorous tendencies. They must have thought she would give up your location; maybe not right away, but with the right incentive, under the right amount of pain, everyone was bound to crack. Especially the most infamous witch of all.

They didn't know Agatha at all.

She was many things, plenty of them bad, but when she loved someone, she was all in. She had a heart, a big one, and it loved as fiercely as everyone else's; even more so. She may not show it to the outside world, but it was there. You felt it in every pet name she uttered, in every touch of her hand. In every gesture, no matter how insignificant it appeared at first. Even during your worst arguments, that heart cherished you.

You'd never felt truly loved until you'd met her.

She'd made sure you would feel it every single day.

When she said she could go for two weeks instead of two days, she meant it. Because she had something — someone — to protect. She'd let them hit her, kick her, torture her; if she hadn't managed to escape, she would've still been there, silent as a mouse, gritting her teeth through each blow.

All so you wouldn't have to.

Agatha raised a finger in warning. "Before you go all, 'Oh, no'—" she put on a mock voice that was supposed to be a rendition of yours — and it was, an almost uncanny one, which you found mildly offensive, "—in that sad little voice of yours, remember that it was my decision not to tell them anything. And I would do it again if I had to."

In other words, don't feel bad about it. She'd chosen to protect you at the cost of her own wellbeing.

She'd put you first once, and she would do so again.

Your eyes burned with welling tears. "I was so awful to you."

Agatha shrugged. "Just because you said some… unsavory things doesn't mean I want you to die."

What you'd said was beyond unsavory. It was cruel. Borderline sadistic.

"You could've died," you pointed out.

"Honey, I was dead as soon as they captured me. Well, I should've been," she said nonchalantly, as if she were talking about the weather. "I didn't see the point of dragging you into it."

Yet you'd called her selfish. Had said she didn't care about you, that she'd loved power more than you. That you'd never felt loved by her.

God, you were a bitch.

Gently, you picked up her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Is there anything I can do?"

"About those shitheads? You can watch me kill them when I get my power back." She smirked. "You love that."

There was something attractive about her draining witches dry. When she would kiss you after, she would be brimming with magic, new and electric. Ecstatic. It gave your heart the zoomies.

"I do," you confirmed, allowing your lips to curl into a smile, "but, I mean, to make things right between us."

Agatha sighed. She reached out, and you instinctively went to her, kneeling down by her seated form. As soon as her hands cupped your cheeks, your eyes fell closed. How you missed her touch, so tender, so sweet. So loving. Yet another proof of the lies your insults spewed.

Every time she touched you like this, she was telling you she loved you. Without a single word uttered, you knew she felt it, and she made sure you felt it just as intensely, just as fiercely.

How could you say she never loved you? How could you say you'd never felt it?

"You want us to be okay?" she asked.

You gave a nod, a tiny, timid one. "Yeah."

"Then we're okay."

You stared. "Just like that?" Surely, there had to be more to it. She couldn't just forgive you.

"Do you want me to be angry at you?" Agatha asked.

Yes, you did. You wanted her to be absolutely pissed. You wanted her to throw things, or blow something up, or scream at the top of her lungs like she usually did when she was mad.

You wanted her to do to you what you'd done to her.

"Agatha, I hurt you." A tear, two, three slid down your face, the memories of the things you'd said stabbing at you like knives. "Hurt me back."

"Why?" she demanded.

Because you'd hurt her first. "Because I deserve it."

"No, you don't." Her fingers rubbed your cheeks. Wiped your tears. "Someone else would, but not you. Never you."

"Why not?"

"Because I love you. Because I know you." Then, reluctantly, she added, "Because I hurt you first."

Right.

The reason the entire argument had erupted in the first place.

Agatha had forgotten your anniversary, having busied herself draining a — honestly, rather unimpressive — witch, while you'd waited for her at the restaurant she'd explicitly told you she would be at the day before.

You'd waited for her for over an hour like a fool. Had even started worrying that something had happened, that someone she'd slighted in the past (or the last twenty minutes; it didn't take her long to piss people off) had harmed her.

To add insult to injury, she had been the one to call you, asking where the hell you were, because she, having just absorbed some magic, was horny, and it frustrated her that you were nowhere to be found.

"I was looking forward to that dinner," you said, remembering how excited you were. How jovial. It was supposed to be one of the best nights of your lives.

It ended up being the worst.

"As was I," Agatha said. "I just thought it was supposed to take place the day after."

Right.

Forgetting things might as well be her middle name.

At least she managed to remember your birthday. She'd never failed to surprise you with a present she'd somehow know you wanted despite you not telling her a thing. She was perceptive like that.

"Of course you did," you snarked.

Agatha pouted in that way you found both adorable and sexy. "Will you let me make it up to you?"

Of course you would. "I expect something fancy."

"I wouldn't go for anything less. Who do you think I am?" she said, feigning offense.

You grinned. "It's a deal."

She blinked innocently. "So, you forgive me?"

How could you not forgive her when she looked at you like that?

How could you not forgive her when she looked like that?

Consciously or not, the injuries worked in her favor. She could punch you in the face, and you would probably find it hard to stay angry at her.

"I forgive you," you said.

There were few things in the world you could never forgive her for. Especially at this point in your relationship.

She smiled. "I really am sorry."

"I know you are."

It was a bitch move, yes, but it had only happened once. As much as it hurt, it wasn't like she had a habit of forgetting important dates.

Forgetting important things that didn't pertain to your relationship, yes. Names, dates, entire events. If she didn't find it personally significant, her brain erased it.

But something personal? Something in relation to you? Never. Those things stayed pinned at the top of her mental list.

You could forgive one blunder.

So long as she didn't make a habit of it.

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @miss-moon-guardian @hermslore @uniquelesbianidiot @natashamaximoff1 @alsoknownasmel @swan-queen-is-magic @tardisesandtitans @ahintofchaos @fruityhahn @midnight-lestrange

[fading-event-608]

headline from CBC - many similar can be seen across western liberal media

As there is another glimmer of hope for a potential ceasefire in Gaza, we should not trust it until we see the iof actively withdrawing from the region (and even more so when the "ceasefire" in Lebanon has not stopped israel from bombing as usual). So let's continue to put our efforts in helping Gazan families. Many of them are either (or all of) ill, injured, or starving, and we should help out in any way we can - especially because a ceasefire will not end the occupation. Israel will still control what (and who) goes into Palestinian territories, will still control the land and water supply and many other things. Among them is, by the way, paypal: it has partnered with adl, a zionist organization that overlooks all transactions and take measures to harm Palestinians.

They have also announced on 7th of October this year that paypal has shutdown fundraising services, and those with an existing one have to complete raising their goal by 12th of January, 2025.

Iyad Sobhe (@iyadsgaza) and Ruba Abushahan (@rubashsblog) are raising funds with paypal ever since gfm has either terminated their fundraiser or made them lose access. Iyad has lost 11K USD while Ruba can no longer withdraw the 27K USD donated to her through gfm.

They cannot afford to start all over when paypal is their last resort. So we have less than 2 MONTHS to raise the entire amount of 60K. You have probably seen posts for (or from) them already but it doesn't mean if there are posts with 1-5k notes going around they get a lot of donations (just like with Falastin). So please share and match/up the donation of 10 USD from my friend here (but please consider giving even 1 USD). Donations have slowed down significantly, resulting in 1 or 2 donations per day, when they should be getting 600$ per day to meet the goal until shutdown.

You can also participate in an art raffle hosted by @/transformers4palestine. The final round of winners will be declared on December 4th (in 5 days at the time of posting), so please check it out too.

Vetting info: #90 for Ruba and #173 for Iyad in El-Shab-Hussein and Nabulsi's spreadsheet [here] (keep in mind that the document has not been updated and does not reflect the current fundraiser; you can learn about it here)

[yumeka-sxf]

Spy x Family merch updates and manga hiatus

I wanted to post about some recent fandom news, starting with the good news: while I mentioned in my 2-year anniversary post that we've been in a dry spell lately as far as SxF content, we just recently got a bunch of new merch/designs! (mostly from various Jump Festa vendors) I'll start with my favorite of the new designs, from HMV's Jump Festa set - Forgers in winter outfits ❤️

Next is the "French casual" set from Chara-Ani~ Bond's little red beret looks so cute!

Another winter outfit set, from Animate. Gah, this one's so adorable, too 😭

Next is merch from Ichiban Kuji. Not sure if it's for Jump Festa as well, but either way, I want the acrylics and the plate!

And lastly, Ensky's merch for Jump Festa - Forgers baking cakes/cookies!

Again for those who don't know, Jump Festa is a yearly event held in Japan in late December that's dedicated to Shonen Jump IPs. SxF will have its own panel with the four Forger voice actors in attendance. We've always gotten exclusive announcements and content at past Jump Festas, so fingers crossed it will be the same for this year! I'm gonna try my best to get some of this merch when it goes on sale in late December. And of course, if I'm able to make high quality scans of these new designs, I will post those as well!

Now onto the bad news, which most of you probably heard about already: the hiatus for the SxF manga has been extended to December 23rd. I believe this is the longest hiatus the series has had so far, and what makes this one concerning is not only that the date kept changing, but also the noticeable silence from Endo and other official outlets.

In the Japanese version of the manga, the last page of each new chapter typically notes the date the next chapter will come out. In the case of the most recent chapter, 107, it said it would release on November 25th, meaning Endo would be taking a break from the bi-monthly schedule, which isn't uncommon. But then, just a few days before the 25th, official English manga outlets like MangaPlus updated the release date to December 9th. It was disappointing since we had all been waiting longer than usual for the new chapter, but again, a second postponement wasn't too alarming...what was alarming though, was the third one that came just yesterday, only a few days after the last. People started noticing that official manga outlets had, again, changed the date for the next chapter to December 23rd this time.

The fandom got stirred up quite a bit when this happened, mostly out of concern for Endo's well being. What made me particularly worried was the fact that, while these hiatuses had been going on for the past month, Endo hadn't posted anything on his Twitter account, which is very unusual considering every month prior he's posted at least a few unique illustrations. Not only that, but the last thing he posted was this oddly cryptic image on October 19th, with text that says "Don't look for me." And he then deleted it soon after, which makes it even stranger.

But thankfully, Shonen Jump must have noticed the pandemonium happening in the fandom, because just a couple hours later, they made this statement on the official Jump+ Twitter, apologizing for the delay and confirming that chapter 108 will indeed come out on December 23rd.

This to me was good news, since their official statement about it makes it unlikely they'll change the date yet again. But some sort of explanation would have been nice, even a vague one. I'm not someone to spread rumors, but my own personal speculation (which could be totally wrong) is that there was some dispute between Endo and Jump. This is the only explanation I can think of as to why his Twitter would suddenly be barren for a month after he posted consistently for so long - my guess is that he has to get approval from Jump for all the illustrations he posts there. I don't know much about the inner workings of the manga industry, but I would assume he has some contractual obligations where he can't freely post stuff on social media without some sort of publisher's approval. It is possible he's just been too busy with Jump Festa and other things, but he's still posted at least a couple times a month even when he's sick or busy, so I don't think that's the main reason. Again, this is just my speculation that could be completely wrong. There's also the fact that they so quickly changed the release date to the 23rd, the day right after Jump Festa ends, which could indicate that Endo's been busy cooking something big to be announced there. Regardless, I'm happy we finally have a new chapter release date that's pretty set in stone now, though I won't feel totally better until we get clear acknowledgment that Endo is okay, either from himself on his own Twitter or somewhere else official.

Anyway, despite this setback, I'm relieved that SxF is still going strong with all the hype for Jump Festa and season 3. Between that and the new chapter right after, we'll be eating good this Christmas!

[canichangemyblogname]

Mmmm. Yeah, many queer fans have been upset enough to stop watching the show altogether.

Buck's boyfriend broke up with him because he--Tommy, the boyfriend--wouldn't be Buck's--this bisexual character-- "last," whatever the fuck that's supposed to mean, but it came with the implication that Buck should date or sleep around to figure out that he wants what he "really wants." Specifically, it came with the implication he should "experiment" with other men because he's only been with women in the past, and I guess-- according to the show-- that means he's not actually experienced enough to be sure of what he wants.

In the context of the rest of the episode, this scene came across either as a way to remind the viewer the bisexual character is still into women or as a "test" of Buck's commitment to or seriousness with being with a man and this being knowable to the public. And with the end message that his boyfriend could never be "Buck's last," the whole episode seemed to carry the narrative that Buck 1.) isn't actually sure of his sexuality (ugh-oh! Is he or het or homo ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I dunno, Janet, maybe it's a secret third option: bisexuality. Maybe it isn't a choice of men or women, maybe it's men AND women. ¿Por qué no los dos?); 2.) he's just "trying things out," experimenting, if you will, and isn't actually sure of his attraction to men; and 3.) unless he gets with other men, this one man is just an "experiment" or "fluke," and Buck's sexuality-- his gut instinct attraction--is ultimately for women (and women alone).

(And we know this "ugh-oh, what does he want: men or women" was an intention of the writing given the next episode Buck tells his sister, "I don't know what pond to jump back into" when discussing dating again after his breakup)

But, to make matters worse, not only did this woman flirt with Buck and ask him for his number while he was on his 6-month anniversary date, Buck's boyfriend, Tommy, essentially said, "Nah, it's not weird she flirted with you at our anniversary dinner, and you awkwardly had to refuse her advances in front of me, all while you kept looking to me for assistance getting out of this situation and I just sat here. You're hot, she's hot. It's okay to look." The implication of his "It's okay to look" being that Buck spent his 6-month anniversary dinner with his boyfriend checking out hot chicks (he actually had not). AND THEN Buck said to his boyfriend, "I noticed you didn't look?" (In a way confirming that he was actively checking out women while on a date with his boyfriend, which… is sure a choice. Are they going go full “bisexual cheater” trope next? Oh, wait. They have. The queer characters on this show have disproportionately been characterized as unfaithful.) He mentioned this like he was taken aback that a man wouldn't notice or be interested in the fact that a group of hot women was flirting and sitting diagonally from them (because homosexuality doesn’t exist—oh, his boyfriend, slightly affronted, tells Buck “I’m a Kinsey 6”). Diagonally, but still across the room from them. She had to bypass several (het) couples having dinner to ask Buck for his number. Because two men having dinner-- just them-- are obviously available, unlike the other m/f pairings, who are clearly on dates.

Because yeah, yeah. Two men at their 6-mo anniversary dinner go to gawk at hot women, I guess. That's totally what queer men do on dates with each other. M/F pairings are on dates while the two men are just "hanging out with their boy(s)."

Okay. Poll time. And you can only vote if you have NEVER EVER watched ABC’s 911.

You and the girls are having a girl’s night at a nice Italian restaurant in LA in the year 2024. Diagonal from you are two men at a table for two looking at each other like this:

…as they have a quiet conversation and finish up their dinner.

[isshonihongo]

JLPT N5 - している [Part 1]

している is a grammar point that is very very important in Japanese. The “して” part represents a verb in the て form. The “いる” part is the verb いる, which will change to different forms (for example います、る or ます).

している actually appears in several levels of the JLPTs - from N5 all the way to N2! As for the N5 level, there are 2 main ways that you will see it used. In this post let’s look at one of them!

First, here is your vocabulary.

【Repeated Actions】

First let’s look at how している is used with repeated actions. These actions are mostly physical.

= I climb Mt. Fuji every year.

Notice the two highlighted words, 毎年 and 登って. If 毎年 weren’t there you would almost always translate 登っています as “am climbing”. However, because 毎年 expresses repetition, it forces us to translate 登っています as “climb”.

= Traffic accidents happen on this street often.

起きる is a verb that can mean “to wake up” or “to occur”. If sentence #2 didn’t have the word よく it would be understandable to translate 起きています as “are occurring”. However because of the よくwe understand that there is repetition and so we go with the “occur” translation instead.

= Well you see, Dad has been going to China for work once a month since last year.

This time the word / phrase that expresses repetition is 毎月１回 meaning “once a month”. This tells us that 行ってる is “goes” instead of “is going”. Also, the い in the helping verb いる can be dropped, making 行ってる a more casual way of saying 行っている. It also works for います so that 行ってます is more casual than saying 行っています。

Finally, take a look at the nuance section. This んです is actually a different JLPT grammar point. The gist is that it’s used when you want to answer a question with extra details that you think the listener/reader wants to know. The ん is a shortened version of the particle の.

【Occupation or Social Position】

している is also used to talk about someone’s occupation or social position.

= Taiki teaches Japanese at a Thai university.

There is no period of repetition stated outright, but we understand that teaching is a job that you do over and over. Thus, you should use 教えています instead of 教えます。

= Aya is a trading company manager.

In this case, the しています simply means “is” or “has the position of”.

= My little brother studies European history at a German university.

This last example is a good one to remember. Most times, if you say 勉強しています it will mean “currently studying”. However when it comes to being a student, the translation shifts to “studies (for an extended period of time)”. Actions that can be interpreted either way (like studying) will sometimes have time words / phrases like 今 (now) or 2、3時間 (for a few hours). That tells you that it is an action in progress. Other than those kinds of phrases, usually the meaning will be repetitive.

【Conclusion】

So there you have it! The first している is associated with repeated actions, occupations, or positions in society or work. It’s fairly easy to figure out if the sentence is talking about an occupation or a position. For repeated actions, the key is to look for words / phrases that express repetition and remember that they cause you to use the している version of your verb. With that, you should be fine!

Rice & Peace,

– AL

👋🏾

[bat-mom-writer]

Rage and Redemption Part 2

Bruce Wayne X orphan(Female) Reader

Summary: months after losing your parents in a fire, you become a troublesome child for the workers at the orphanage. But one day Bruce Wayne comes to your orphanage to adopt you.

Rating: sad, angst, happy ending?

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

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

Bruce Wayne, dressed in a casual yet elegant suit, stepped out of his sleek black car, which purred softly as it came to a stop. Before him stood the orphanage, its ivy-covered bricks telling a story of neglect that starkly contrasted with his polished vehicle. He took a deep breath, his heart weighed down by the enormity of his decision. The cool air, tinged with the faint scent of charred wood from the fire that had devastated the nearby apartments, stirred painful memories. The image of the girl’s tear-stained face lingered in his mind, pushing him to move forward as he approached the building, filled with a sense of compassion and resolve.

As he walked up the familiar, well-worn steps, the door of the orphanage creaked open, unveiling a warm and inviting interior that contrasted sharply with the cold exterior he had just left behind. The joyful sounds of children’s laughter and chatter filled the air, creating a vibrant atmosphere that felt like a heartbeat amid the heavy silence he had endured since that fateful night. He gently closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing down the corridor. Approaching a kind grey-haired woman at a desk, he shared the reason for his visit, his smile reflecting a mixture of hope and nostalgia. In response, she offered him a warm and encouraging smile, guiding him toward Ms. Jenkins' office with genuine warmth, as though she understood the weight of his journey.

With a mischievous grin stretching across your face, you dashed down the dimly lit hallway of the orphanage, the sound of your footsteps echoing off the worn wooden floors. Your heart raced wildly in your chest, a mix of adrenaline and exhilaration coursing through you. In your grasp, you held tightly to a small purse, its fabric cool against your fingers, a prize you’d deftly snatched from Ms. Jenkins’ cluttered office, a thrill of rebellion sparking within you with each step.

A stern voice echoed behind you, but you refused to look back. You knew it was her, the one who had been pursuing you for what felt like an eternity. The click-clack of her heels grew louder, yet you were faster, driven by anger and an urgent need to break free from this place. You charged through the cafeteria, skillfully dodging tables and chairs as the other children stared at you in wide-eyed disbelief, their spoonfuls of oatmeal suspended in mid-air. The smell of burnt toast from the kitchen enveloped you, momentarily overpowering the usual stench of the orphanage.

You jumped onto the first table, the metal screeching under your weight. You kicked a plastic tray off the edge, and its contents splattered on the floor with a loud crash. The laughter of younger kids encouraged you as you moved from table to table, creating chaos. Trays clattered and food was scattered everywhere. You felt a rush of excitement, a feeling you hadn’t experienced since the fire took everything from you.

Ms. Jenkins’ shrill voice closed in, making it clear she was far from amused. The rapid clicking of her heels echoed as two imposing male staff members charged behind her. You could practically feel the heat of their breath on your neck. But as you approached the last table, you seized your moment. You took a determined running start and propelled yourself off the edge, targeting the exit of the cafeteria. The open floor loomed ahead, and freedom was within reach just as Ms. Jenkins and the two staff members rounded the corner, their eyes wide with shock and fury.

With a swift and powerful kick, you launched the last tray into the air, sending its colorful contents flying like a delicious, chaotic storm. As the food scattered across the floor, the three adults—each one heavyset and awkward—lost their footing on the slick surface, their arms windmilling wildly in a desperate attempt to regain balance. The burly men collided with one another, their bodies thudding together, which sent Ms. Jenkins toppling to the ground with a surprised yelp.

The delightful chaos sparked a wave of laughter and squeals from the circle of children nearby, their eyes wide and gleaming with a mix of delight and mischief. The entire scene unfolded like a scene from a live-action cartoon, a perfect blend of slapstick humor and unexpected absurdity, and you couldn't suppress a giggle at the hilarity of it all.

For a brief moment, everything around you seemed to come to a halt, as if time itself had decided to pause. The chaos of the chase morphed into an unexpected dance of slips and stumbles, each mishap adding a touch of humor to the frantic scene. With a surge of adrenaline, you seized the opportunity presented by their misfortunes and sprinted through the cafeteria's exit door. The cool breeze that greeted you felt refreshing against your skin, whispering promises of freedom and escape.

But as your sneakers touched the polished tiles of the hallway, a sudden collision interrupted your joyful laughter. You ran headlong into a wall of muscle and affluence—none other than Bruce Wayne himself. The impact knocked you back onto the floor, sending your purse skidding away from your grasp. Disorientation set in as you blinked up at him, his eyes wide with surprise at the unexpected encounter. Yet, amidst the initial shock, you noticed his expression soften as he recognized you.

“Hey, are you okay?” he inquires, his hand outstretched in an offer to help you up.

But you were quicker than he anticipated, weren’t you? The adrenaline coursing through your veins transformed you into a blur of motion, nimble and swift like a fox darting through a forest. You seized the purse from the cold, unforgiving floor and bolted toward the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The metal handle glinted in the dim light, tantalizingly close, as if it held the promise of liberation just beyond its threshold.

Freedom was merely a push away, an intoxicating invitation to the vibrant world outside that had been beckoning you for far too long. The smooth, cool surface of the handle felt like the key to a cage in which you had been trapped, yearning for escape and the sweet taste of the open air that awaited you.

Just as you were about to dash away, a hand—firm yet gentle—wrapped around your arm, bringing your frantic movement to an abrupt halt. Startled, you looked up to see Bruce Wayne's familiar face, his expression a mix of concern and determination as he kept you from making your escape.

"What are you running from?" he inquired, his voice steady and calm, cutting through the tension in the air. His grip tightened just enough to convey importance, not enough to inflict pain, but enough to signal that he wouldn’t relent easily.

"Let me go, dipshit!" you snarled, attempting to pull away from him, your eyes blazing with defiance. The purse was still in your hand, and you swung it around, ready to use it as a weapon if necessary.

Bruce's grip didn’t waver. His eyes searched yours for something beyond your hidden anger and fear. “I won’t let you get hurt,” he said, his voice firm yet kind.

Ms. Jenkins and the two male staff members stumbled into the hallway, their faces flushed with exertion and embarrassment from their fall. "There you are!" she exclaimed, her voice high-pitched from the effort of chasing you. She straightened her skirt, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed the scene before her: you, holding her purse, and Bruce Wayne, standing as an unexpected obstacle to her authority.

"Mr. Wayne!" she exclaims her voice a mix of surprise and urgency as her eyes flicker nervously between the designer purse you hold in your hand and the calm, unwavering determination etched on Bruce's face. "I sincerely apologize for this disturbance," she continues, her tone softening slightly as she takes a breath to steady herself. "This girl is quite a handful," she adds, casting a wary glance in your direction as if trying to gauge the situation. With a swift motion, she tilts her head toward the staff members nearby, her fierce expression conveying a clear message for them to take action and intervene.

In an instant, the two burly men grab your arms tightly and pull you behind Ms. Jenkins, wrenching the purse from your grip and spilling its contents on the floor. You struggle to break free and run for the exit, but their hold on you is unyielding.

Ms. Jenkins bends down, her nose in the air as she rummages through her purse, her eyes narrowed in accusation. She picks up a lipstick, then a set of keys, before her hand closes around a small, tattered photo of a family, its edges burned. The sight sends a jolt through her, and her expression softens for a moment as she looks at you, recognizing the pain. But quickly, her face hardens again.

"You know why you can't have this back," she says, her voice low and measured. She holds up the photo, the flimsy paper almost transparent from your constant touch. "You've caused enough trouble today, young lady."

Anger surges in your cheeks as her words pierce through you. That photo was the final fragment of your old life—the one before everything turned to ash and despair. It captured a moment of joy, with you, your mom, and your dad all smiling, the happiness you've yearned for since that fateful night. You wrench against the staff's grip, desperation flooding your voice. “It’s mine! Give it back!” you cry out, but Ms. Jenkins only tucks the photograph into her pocket, a painful reminder of the fire's merciless destruction.

"You'll only get it back when you learn to behave," she says, her voice icy and dismissive. Each word feels like a dagger to your heart, twisting deeper with every syllable. "Take her to detention for the night," she commands the staff, who nod and move to drag you away. You kick and scream, desperation clawing at your throat, but their grip is like iron, unbreakable. Their faces are as hard and unyielding as the prison bars that seem to loom closer with each step, leaving you feeling utterly powerless and frightened.

As you are taken away, you catch a glimpse of Bruce’s face, his brow furrowed and eyes filled with concern. For a moment, you see a flicker of anger aimed not at you, but at Ms. Jenkins. That brief comfort vanishes, replaced by dread as you leave the only person who has shown you kindness since the fire.

Ms. Jenkins looks at Bruce as the two staff members take you to detention. She straightens her skirt and smooths her hair, regaining her usual authoritative stance. "I'm sorry you had to see that," she says, her voice overly sweet. "We have rules for a reason. She's a troublemaker, that one."

Bruce nods, his eyes fixed on you as you turn the corner. He can feel the anger radiating from you—a fierce intensity that he knows well, one that drives his nightly battles as Batman. He fully understands the pain of loss and the unwavering need for justice that comes from witnessing the suffering of the innocent.

Ms. Jenkins clears her throat, regaining his attention. "Not that you're not welcome here, Mr. Wayne, but is there something specific you were looking for?"

He nods, his eyes still lingering on the spot where you had disappeared. "Yes," he clears his throat, "I am looking to adopt."

The words linger in the air, heavy with meaning. Ms. Jenkins’ eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, she is speechless. Then she smiles broadly, clasping her hands. "How wonderful!" she exclaims. "We’re thrilled to have people like you offer homes to our children. They need someone like you to give them a chance at a better life."

Bruce nods, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm interested in her," he says, pointing down the hallway where you were taken.

Ms. Jenkins' smile weakens as she glances back, expecting to find someone there, but finds the hallway empty, save for the distant echoes of your protests. "Who?" she inquires, her tone a bit less pleasant than before.

Bruce maintains his steady gaze on her and responds with clarity, "I’m referring to the girl you just sent to detention—the one you were chasing."

Ms. Jenkins' smile fades into a strained grimace before she quickly recovers. "Ah, her. She's quite a handful, I'm afraid. She's still adjusting to the loss of her parents in the fire, you see. It's been quite a challenge for us to manage her grief and behavior. Would you be interested in another child?" she suggests, her voice saturated with insincere kindness.

But Bruce's mind is made up. With a firm expression on his face, he shakes his head and declares, "No," his voice is steady and resolute. "It's her."

Ms. Jenkins' eyes narrow, and she crosses her arms over her chest. "Mr. Wayne, I must advise against that. She's a very… troubled child. She's been through a lot, and it's affected her in ways we're still trying to understand. She's prone to outbursts, theft, and violence. We've had to restrain her more than once."

Bruce's jaw clenches, but his gaze remains unwavering. "I understand she's been through a traumatic experience, and she needs guidance. I believe I can provide that for her."

“I’m sorry, Mr. Wayne,” she says, her voice suddenly cold as ice, “but she’s not even on the list of children available for adoption.”

Bruce's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "What do you mean she's not on the list?" he demanded, his voice firm with confusion and determination.

Ms. Jenkins' smile shifts into a smug smirk. "Exactly, Mr. Wayne. She is not suitable for adoption at this time."

But Bruce isn't one to be deterred. He reaches into his inner pocket and pulls out a sleek black checkbook. "Twenty thousand," he says, his voice steady, "she's on the list."

Ms. Jenkins' eyes widen at the sight of the checkbook, and for a moment, a greedy expression crosses her face before she quickly regains her composure, adopting a professional demeanor. "Mr. Wayne, I appreciate your generosity, but it's not that simple. The welfare of the children here must be our top priority."

Bruce's hand hovers over the checkbook, the pen ready to sign. "Fifty thousand," he says simply, the words slicing through the tension like a knife.

Ms. Jenkins glances around the empty hallway, seemingly wary of being caught. The distant laughter from the cafeteria fades away. She licks her lips, and her greed is evident. "Why don’t you and I talk more in my office?" she whispers conspiratorially, nodding toward her door, its nameplate glinting in the fluorescent lights.

"Thank you, but I would like that picture back," Bruce says firmly, holding out his hand with his palm up, expecting the family photo.

Ms. Jenkins hesitates, her eyes flicking from the checkbook. "Mr. Wayne, I must insist that the photo stays with us for now," she says, her voice a delicate balance of greed and authority.

Bruce's eyes narrowed, a steely glint reflecting his determination, as he slowly tucked the checkbook back into his pocket. "First, the picture," he repeated, his voice a low, menacing rumble that reverberated off the walls and sent an uneasy silence down the hallway.

Ms. Jenkins lets out a heavy sigh, her shoulders sagging with the weight of her emotions. With a subtle, trembling hand, she reaches into her pocket and withdraws a worn photo, its edges frayed with time. She places it gently into Bruce's outstretched palm, the paper warm from her touch. To you, it feels like a lifeline—a precious remnant of a past that has been shattered beyond recognition.

As Bruce gazes down at the image, the fierce anger that once burned in his eyes begins to dissolve, giving way to a profound sadness that reverberates in the depths of your own heart. It’s a shared grief, one that has lingered like a haunting shadow since the day of the fire. Carefully, Bruce tucks the photo into his pocket, the corners peeking out like a fragile promise, a glimmer of hope amidst the overwhelming darkness.

“Thank you, please lead the way,” he says, his tone firm and a winning smile on his lips.

Ms. Jenkins nods, her arrogance fading as she realizes she must comply with Bruce. She turns and walks down the hallway, her heels clicking against the floor.

Bruce trails behind, his eyes fixated on the very spot where you were forcibly taken from him. The memory lingers in the air like a haunting specter, as he can almost hear the anguished echo of your cries—each one a desperate plea that pierced through the silence. He recalls the raw urgency in your voice as you begged for the one thing that could provide even a flicker of solace in this cold, heartless world. A tight knot of anger and determination forms in his chest. He vows, with unyielding resolve, that he will never allow anyone to strip that comfort away from you again.

Part 3

[hikaruchen]

Reading this blog and procrastinating what I should’ve been doing at the moment, but it’s super helpful if you want to know more about the Anglo-Saxon and Viking material culture but don’t want to be bored to hell. All articles are done by an archaeologist specializing in mortuary archaeology, and he has already written several ones about burials and pagan practices during that time through the lens of The Last Kingdom. I’ve linked one of his posts before on ao3 when discussing about the historical accuracy of Alfred’s tomb effigy in the show under the pic Prayer from the Pagan, but didn’t really had the time to check others out. I just did it and find his other articles are actually super interesting to read as well.

For instance, back when I post this pic in January I said the colour palette was inspired by the Alfred jewel, but I completely forgot that it actually appeared in the show (2x04) where Alfred handed it to Æthelwold and said “Take this. It is a symbol of my kingship. Bear it with authority.”, which might be partially true but is hilarious if you give it another thought.

Because, why, in God’s name, would Alfred hand an ARTEFACT version of the piece he commissioned himself to his nephew? As Prof. Williams already stated (in this post), the Alfred jewel has long been assumed to be the handle part of a pointer stick for following words when reading a book, and if you look at the artefact itself it is quite clear that there’s a part that’s been missing as well. The reason why scholars think it has something to do with Alfred is because:

1) It’s written. The text on the frame literally says that “ÆLFRED MEC HEHT GEWYRCAN”, which means “Alfred ordered me made”. The more detailed explanation below (with the help of beloved wikitionary since I don’t understand Old English at all)

ÆLFRED (subject) Alfred, obviously MEC (object) me; accusative of iċ (I), but in the West Saxon dialect it’s actually an uncommon version of iċ’s accusative and is more often seen in the Anglian dialect. The frequently-used version for West Saxons is mē HEHT (verb) ordered; third-singular past tense for hātan (to call; to order etc.), often followed with infinitive verbs, cognate with heißen in German GEWYRCAN (verb) to make; I honestly don’t know if “to make” and “to be made” is just the same word in OE help And since the word order in OE is random as hell thanks to the case system (much like German which I eventually gave up learning because I don’t have a brain big enough for that. IT MAKES NO SENSE TO A NATIVE MANDARIN SPEAKER THANK YOU), it is eventually translated into “Alfred ordered me to be made”.

2) It was discovered in Somerset and has been dated to the late 9th century, and we all know what Somerset meant to Alfred

3) Alfred did say he would send a copy of his translation of Gregory the Great’s Pastoral Care to every episcopal see in his kingdom in the preface to it, with the book accompanied “an æstel of 50 mancuses”. Mancus was a term to denote a gold coin or a unit for coins worth about a month’s wage for a skilled worker, such as a craftsman or a soldier. Whatever that æstel is it must be worth hell LOTS of money

But honestly while I do think this interpretation sounds very much plausible I’m thinking about other possibilities as well - how many Alfreds exactly existed during his time? We know that Æthel in OE means noble, so people bearing this prefix in their names were usually royal members or at least aristocrats, but what about Alfred? Was Alfred a popular name? Or was it unique enough that he could just go by this name without mentioning his title at all? Imagine if it were an Æthelred who made this, who the hell would know which one of these it was referring to, Æthelred the King, Æthelred the Ealdorman, Æthelred Ealhswith’s father, or even Æthelred the fucking Archbishop??? And yeah, I know Alfred was the king ™ here and there isn’t really much space left on the frame after all, but surely it wouldn’t cost a bone to add a cyning behind his name, right?

Sadly, as it was in the pre-Domesday-Book era, I can’t find the statistics of Anglo-Saxon names at that time (but keep in mind that there were at least 19 Alfreds worthy enough to be mentioned in Domesday Book even after the conquest. I don’t know if this says anything at all but I do want to mention it) What I’m trying to say is while it is highly highly highly likely (and I do believe and want to believe in this theory!), we cannot be one hundred percent certain that this jewel was really from the Alfred we’re talking about. And even if it was, it apparently wouldn’t be carried around by Alfred like THAT. Because that would be like, “Bear this with authority! Even though the symbol of my kingship is broken!”, said Alfred to a king wannabe. Lol.

The other thing I want to mention is this post about the show’s use of Fuller brooch, the one Alfred wore in S2 when he was in his war gear.

First of all, it is indeed dated to late 9th century and is assumed by scholars to be made by metalworkers of Alfred’s court. Everything is fine except I don’t think you would want to wear jewelry that luxurious to war…but then there’s this thing:

MEET GIANT FULLERS!

Well, can’t blame them since I am basically doing the same thing with my drawings (i.e. using patterns on jewelry and illustrations from manuscripts for embroidery design). But it’s worth noting that designs that are suitable for one art form doesn’t mean they can be applied to another well, and that’s why I claim my art is inspired by Anglo-Saxon art but NOT historical accurate for the Anglo-Saxon period. The reason I still do this and think it is understandable for TLK crew to do so is because we simply don’t have that many resources to reference from when it comes to this time period, and fabrics and wooden buildings are just extremely hard to preserve by nature. Instead of screwing up the design on your own, it just has more fun to add real historical elements into your work. Look at those easter eggs!

Ok, that’s it. I hope you enjoy my long rant and have a good read from Prof. Williams’s works!

[may--hawk]

now sleeps the swan

A very happy read-your-smut-around-your-extended-family season to all those who celebrate!

And for those who don't, may I suggest some Ancient Greek wingsmut?

Summary:

“Oi,” says Crowley. “Angel. Remember you owe me that favor?” “Oh, do I? I must do. Dear me, I seem to forget, sometimes.” Before the arrangement, there were favors. Which is how Aziraphale finds himself at a Greek crossroads just before midnight making a crossroads deal on Crowley’s behalf. Trouble is, he’s not the only one at the crossroads. A goddess is there, and she’s got a deal in mind of her own… Featuring dreams, deals, wing-grooming, and summer in Athens.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 15,114

Before the Arrangement, there were favors.

It had started back when they had both been cramped on that awful boat for so terribly long, in excess of four months, and tempers were fraying, not helped by the fact that they were short on food, Noah’s sons having dumped some of the feed - that they had been instructed specifically by an angel to bring - in favor of more casks of wine. Regrettably, the animals couldn’t drink the wine, and so the animals and humans were getting terrifically testy, big surges of wrath and avarice making Aziraphale itchy under his robes. 1 He should’ve never suffered the demon to stay on the boat, he’d thought. It was clear all these sins were his fault.2 Still, the demon had come in useful. Aziraphale had been complaining to Crowley one afternoon about his appointed task, which was to take the form of a bird and fly for leagues and leagues and leagues until he’d found land for the humans - “which,” he’d said, “it’s not so much that I mind the flying, haven’t flown since, oh, think the last time was the War," and at Crowley’s slight stiffness, he’d continued, hurriedly, “It’s just Gabriel couldn’t tell me exactly where the land was, and how long I’d have to fly. He just told me to have faith and I would find it.” Aziraphale looked at the waters all around them, higher even than the mountains. They’d been risen by Her wrath halfway up to the sky. The sun, he swore, felt hotter up here. It was cold at night, too, and more than one night he’d spotted Crowley down in the hold with the animals for warmth. “It’s just that I don’t see any land. Do you?” At Crowley’s head shake, he leaned in, very close, and said, nearly in his ear. “If you ask me, I don’t think Gabriel actually knows.”

The corner of Crowley’s mouth twitched.

“And then,” said Aziraphale, settling back, “there’s the wings. What this humidity will do to the pinions, I’m sure I don’t know.”

“Tell you what,” said Crowley, unfolding himself from the deck - and Aziraphale put a hand to his eyes because Crowley stood up against the sun, a long tall thing like a tree, something secure in all this water. “I’ll go out, look around, see if I see anything. I’ll fly back and let you know, you can take all the credit.”

Aziraphale’s stomach swooped. The boat must’ve pitched. These infernal waves, he thought, and then remembered they weren’t infernal, after all. All those people, he thought. He saw Crowley’s face. You can’t kill kids. “You’d do that?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley shrugged. “Been wanting to stretch my wings anyway.”

Continue reading on AO3.

@goodomensafterdark !

[jellyskink]

(Different Anon here, I hear we're sending in fan fics, feel free to post if you want.)

“Dr. Pines, I was wondering if you can tell me about yourself” Dr. Oleander was leaning against the counter in her office. On the examination table sat a man she's only known for the past months. He was first brought to her with injuries so severe she was amazed that he was still able to move. She was worried for the man and asked him to make follow up appointments at least once a month so she can monitor him. For the most part he was good On his word but there we times he ether cut it close to this appointment time or did both showing up at all.

The next time they would meet he would he would express his deep apologies but his “Muse” didn't see the point to the more frequent doctor visits, after all he hasn't been to a doctor in over 25 after all. He only allowed the first after his “Muse” grew tired of him vomiting blood everywhere, and wasn't able to move after intense abdominal pains, as if they were the man's fault. After the second visit (the follow up to make sure the medication was working) they grew close and bonded over there love of science. And then on the third visit the man gave her a dead mouse as a token of his appreciation. As disturbing as it was it was endearing, and it reminded of her cat, Calamari, if it were any other patient she would be highly concerned for sure, but what little she did know about him she knew it was the only way he knew how to express affection. In short his life was more concerning then the dead animals he gave her. She desperately wanted him to seek mental help for his trama but he adamantly denied it saying nothings wrong and if he did he deserves it and how he should be grateful that his muse is merciful for putting up with his past problems.

She thought long and hard, if she were to help him she would have to get creative and probably break a few HIPAA violations. So after a few more visits to regain his trust she decided it was time. He was the last appointment of the day and asked if he could stay longer she told him it was to help fill in his medical charts and to record data, and promised him a lollipop for his help. These were two things he couldn't resist the promise of scientific research and food.

He looked At her confused with a lollipop pop in his mouth. She asked again, “Dr.Pines? Could you please tell me some more about you.”

To Ford what was originally routine physical Examination and quality time with someone he could trust, was turning well off. His Doctor had already been aware of himself, a man mid 60s he thinks it was hard to keep track of time in the bubble and time flew when he was with his beloved muse. He loved science and had an interest in biology, with a particular interest in lepidoptery (the study of moths.) And more importantly he did everything for his muse. He lives and breathes for the sake of him, he loved him and In return Ford knew he was special to his muse, and that made it all worth it.

“Dr. Pines I know this is difficult but I need this information for your chart.” The doctor continued. “Please start from the beginning, your childhood, if you would be so kind.”

The beginning. He didn't like thinking about any time before he came to his senses with his muse. To him they were the dark times, without the guiding light of his muse how did he even manage to live before his muse.

What was there to say really? He was born to an ex-concrete pourer turned pawn shop owner, and a pathological liar who made a career of being a fake phone psychic. He had 2 brothers, one older and one younger. The Doctor already knew about the younger one Stanley, his twin and the only one he had been in contact with post muse. They lived in a small beach town in Jersey. He was born a freak and was bullied all throughout his adolescent years, for it.

Then there was static. Then the next thing he remembers he was at college. He couldn't remember why he went to Backupsmore but he did and met a man he could call his friend. Fiddleford, he was a genius mechanical engineer, you name it he could build it. He supposed That was the reason Ford called him up one day to help him with a project. Again static.

It was a few years After his graduation he moved to a small town in Oregon. He spent many days hiking the surrounding woods in search of answers to the strange and unusual. One day he found it. From the paintings on a cave wall he found a way to summon a being from another dimension, the beings name was Bill, Stanford’s Muse, the light of his life, his shining star, beacon of hope, his lord and master. He informed Ford that there was a way to bridge his lowly inferior world to that of a gods'. And like the loyal man he was he got to work straight away. He called up friend who was squandering his potential with what he called a computermajig, a waste of time Ford thought.

The beginning stages were wonderful. His Muse, was lead them on the path of greatness, and with the aid of a friend the impossible was possible. That was until it all went…. More static filled the events that transpired on that day. He didn't like thinking about it to begin with. the day he-he… The thought alone brought him great shame to begin with, he hated that he once resisted… only flashes of anger, Betrayal, hurt, pain… an unbelievable amount of pain… he deserved everything second of it, after all he went against His muse. It was a rough 5 years. Most of it was spent chained up, starved, and severely dehydrated. More static. But in the end it was okay, thanks to his muse steering him on the correct path. How foolishly he was. After an eternity alone in a small dark room, his muse finally came and rescued him. He reward Stanford with his first meal in weeks and water life saving water he lovingly put more minerals in for him.(in reality the meal was nothing more then a dead rat and gutter water) He was always looking out for him even when he new he shouldn't have deserved it. But his Muse found it in his heart to forgive him so Stanford did the only thing he could think of to thank the being that saved him. He turned on the portal.

In the years since the activation of the portal. Stanford learned to be the perfect pet for his muse. When he was good he was rewarded with Jellybeans, and good dreams that served as revenge fantasies (take that Crampelter, 6 fingers are better then none, who's the Freak now). Sometimes he slips he doesn't mean too of course how could he intentionally do something that angerd his Muse. His Muse would try and correct the behavior, whether it be withholding food or isolation. Ford couldn't stress this enough it was his fault his Muse did this to him in the first place. He needed To be perfect for him, so he could finally recognize his devotion. So for now he'll sleep on a dog bed, eat the scientist Kibble, and attend the dog shows (which always ended badly and he spent the rest of his night sulking in the back of Dr. Oleander’s car.) He would happily do any of that if his Muse required it. He's fine what would a doctor know about this anyway. No one could understand.

Dr. Oleander was starting to regret this tactic. After she asked her patient a rather personal question, she just watched him stare off into space, his eyes devoid of any life. She tried to speak to him again, but nothing registered. It was 30 minutes of intense silence. The best she could do was work on the much need paperwork until her patient came through. It wasn't much longer after her final bit of paperwork was finished when a small voice apologized, thinking he might have dozed off for a second. She lied to him, saying that it was alright she saw how tired he was, and he deserved the sleep. She gave him his prescription and a few more of her lollipops for the road. The man seemed more interested in the sweets then the life-saving medicine. She led him to the front door and offered him a ride back. He politely denied the request, seeing how the weather was pleasant enough for a walk. She wished him the best and gave Him a date and time for their next appointment and reminded him to floss more as per Dr. Ibis instructions. He smiled politely back at her and continued on his way. Once back in the safety of her office, she took down a notebook and scribbled more notes on her patient. At the end of her notes, she put down one more thought like it was a wish to the universe. “I hope Dr. Pines eventually gets the help he needs.”

Maybe it's for the best he didn't actually say anything...

(Poor bby!!! I love ittttt)

[sammysbrokenheart]

Drag me

Part 2 of Drag me down (Part 1)

Summary: A week after Billie's concert you are wondering if Billie actually wants this.

It has been a week after Billie's concert. She was amazing and you felt your heart swell with pride. It was no secret how you felt about Billie and you made sure to express it at any given moment. When you're together you made sure to sprinkle some physical affection and you're always asking her on dates, but in return you get nothing from her.

Billie wasn't a very shy woman, she's loud and passionate so it didn't make sense to you why she was holding back so much.

"Maybe she just doesn't like you like that?" Miko said from where she was busy drawing on her couch.

"Miko, you know that's not true," you said throwing a pillow at her.

You and Miko have been friends for years now, she was like a sister to you.

"Even after all the pushing that I have been doing she's not budging. I mean, yes, whenever I'm around she's fucking angry as hell, but that isn't even helping," Miko said with a sigh. Around the two month mark Miko got tired of your whining about Billie and decided to take matters into her own hands. She claimed that a little jealousy was exactly what Billie needed and she was wrong.

You stared down at your phone still waiting eagerly for Billie's reply. You decided to finally be the one to ask her to be your girlfriend tonight over dinner at your place.

"What if you get rejected?" Miko asked with a smirk on her face.

"I'm going to tell Martina you're in love with her," I say taking out my phone. You've never seen Miko move that fast and you realized quick that you had to run for your life.

Billie quickly replied to you after she was done with her meeting with her manager. You asked her to come over, but there was a massive get together happening at her house.

Billie: can't tonight, but you can come over to mine?

You♡: sure :)

You made your way to Billie's house dressed up in an outfit that Miko said made me look like a sex doll. You decided that, that was for the best, maybe if you looked irresistible then that would push her to just do a bit more.

Claudia greeted you at the door. Her house was occupied with a bunch of people they are also dressed like a bunch of sex dolls. Billie didn't mention to you that there would be a party at her house.

"Y/N you look amazing!" Claudia said hugging you.

"You too babe! Where's Bil?" you asked and Claudia pointed to the kitchen. Of course.

As you got closer to the door you could hear Billie's voice. When you opened the door you saw that she wasn't alone, she was there with Abigail.

You felt your blood boil. Abby was someone you weren't fond of, she was Billie's ex girlfriend.

You took on how close you two were standing, how Billie was letting her be in her space like that. You looked at how Billie was laughing at her stupid jokes and you knew they were stupid.

You coughed and that immediately got their attention.

Billie's face lit up when she saw you. Whatever Abby was talking about was long forgotten and all she could focus on was you and the black dress you were wearing.

"Billie," you said wrapping your arms around Billie's neck and you felt Billie snake her arms around your waist.

"You look amazing I-" before she could say anything else her brother called her.

"I'll be right back, get us a drink," she said. Without warning she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and left.

When you noticed that Billie left you turned to Abigail who was still standing there looking stupid.

"So you're my replacement," Abigail said smugly.

"No, your replacement was the woman Billie started dating a week after you guys broke up. How does it feel to know you're so easily replaceable?" you said walking closer to her. You can tell that you struck a nerve.

"You think this will last long? You think you stand a chance against me?" she said trying to act tough.

"No, you're right. Go ahead and try Abby," you said sweetly.

Abigail looked at you confused.

"Just like that?" she said crossing her arms over her chest.

"I mean you have beeen trying to get Billie back since you broke up two years ago so maybe this time it would actually work... Fingers crossed," you crossed your fingers and gave her a thumbs up.

Billie suddenly came back to the kitchen and went straight to where you were standing. Her arms were immediately wrapped around your waste just like before she left. She nuzzled her head in your neck and you could smell the alcohol on her breath. She was drunk.

"I missed you," she mumbled and you felt light kisses where her head was burried in your neck.

You watched Abigail leave the kitchen in a hurry and felt smug.

Billie took your hand and you two walked outside to the pool.

"Y/N let's swim," Billie said excitedly.

"Billie no," you said pulling her away from the edge.

"God Y/N I really fucking like you," she said suddenly. You cupped her cheek in your hand and you felt her lean into your touch.

"Miko likes you too... Fucking Miko," you heard her mumble.

"Sometimes I think I'm good and then Miko and her annoying ass gets in head FUCK!" She says frustrated.

"Billie calm down you're drunk, I don't want you to trip," you said watching her walk backwards.

"I'm just buzzed Y/N I am very aware of my surroundings," she says and you felt relieved. "I heard what you said to Abby now I'm... I don't fucking know. You sounded so jealous, but yesterday Miko posted you two at the bowling alley and I-"

You couldn't stand her rambling anymore. Without any warning you kissed her. It took no time before she kissed you back and you two were passionately kissing.

"I like you Billie. It's you, just you," you said between kisses.

"So what you're saying is Miko's ass doesn't stand a chance," she said as she pulled away from the kiss.

"Miko's ass never stood a chance in the first place," you said. You watched her eyes light up.

Abigail watched the scene unfold from the backdoor. She took out her phone and dialed Miko's number.

"What happened?" she asked immediately.

"I think they just got together..." Miko started swearing on the other side of the phone. Abigail could barely understand anything cause she was swearing and yelling in Spanish.

"We can still make this work... We don't have to give up?" Abigail said.

"What can we possibly do!?" Miko said.

"Meet me tomorrow and I'll fill you in. We'll get them, don't worry," Abby ended the call and walked back to the party. This was definitely not the end.

[lillaydee]

One More Try Part 2

Landlord Joel Miller / Reader

They say a woman is tested when her man has nothing. But a man is tested when he has everything. What happens if you both passed the test, but your partners did not?

WARNINGS:

Unplanned Pregnancy, Soft Joel (The Last of Us), SO MUCH FLUFF, Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Reader was pregnant before meeting Joel, Slow Burn, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Mentions of Miscarriage (Not OC), Landlord Joel, No Outbreak AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Part 1

---

Joel knocked on your door one Friday night about two weeks after you first moved in, quite aggressively, too, you thought. You opened the door, still in the clothes you were wearing to campus, a box of Chinese in your hand. He held up a cheque that you had slipped under his door on your way up. You had finally gotten your bank account sorted and got your first weekly pay as Frank’s RA, so you wrote a cheque as first payment for the medical bill he paid for you. You had budgeted it properly. If you clocked in eight hours a day for work and paid him half your weekly pay every Friday, you would finish paying him in four months. You could still do your dissertation work after that and on the weekends.

Damn he looked good. He was all dressed up. His usual t shirt swapped with a flannel, his usual light jeans swapped for a darker pair that looked newer, his hair styled a bit and combed neatly, and was he wearing cologne? You couldn’t help the smile that came to your face. You leaned against the door and joked,

“Wow Miller, you look good. Hot date?”

He flushed, slightly, but ignored your question. “What the hell is this?” he asked instead, waving the cheque in your face.

“It’s a cheque,” you answered, “You cash it at the bank for money.”

“I’m aware miss Smarty Pants, but what is it for?”

“Well… I have to start paying you back. For the hospital bill.”

“Did I ask you to pay me back?”

“No… but I got my first pay today, so I’m paying you back.”

He took a deep, controlled breath and tore the cheque before depositing it in the trash can beside your door, telling you to keep your money.

“Hey! What was that for?” you asked, a little bit annoyed.

“Keep it. For the baby. Don’t even think of paying me back.”

“Joel… I can’t…” but he held his hand up.

“Not taking no for an answer. I said keep it,” and walked away.

You went to the window in the corridor, watching him get in his truck and drive away. You didn’t know why, but you felt a bit deflated. Was it because he refused to accept your money? Or because you didn’t see him as often as you thought you would? After he went with the group to talk to Max, he came to your place once to fix your window, but Maria was there so you two didn’t talk much. You didn’t see him around much after that, you only got home after it’s dark, and left early in the mornings. You needed to, to fit in the eight working hours and still get a few hours of work done on your doctorate. He lived right below you, and yet you never saw him. And now, the first time you saw him in ten-ish days, he was dressed up, smelling so good and looking so delicious you could eat him alive. You heaved a sigh you didn’t know you needed to release. It had to have been a date, right? Men looking like Joel Miller do not sit around at home on Friday nights. They go out for single, non-pregnant ladies to flock around and swoon over.

You went back inside when his truck drove out of sight. He won’t take your cheque. Fine, you’ll just write him another one. You finished eating and got your laptop out. Time to do some work.

You woke up just after dawn broke that Saturday, your neck stiff from doing your work hunched over the coffee table. You needed to buy a proper desk if you were going to do your work at home, but that’s a bit beyond your budget right now. So, you quickly showered and left for the campus, your laptop bag on your shoulders, your trusted sling bag crossed over your body, a piece of plain toast in your hand for your breakfast. Joel’s truck wasn’t where it usually was. Of course he didn’t come home. Men looking like Joel Miller do not come straight home after a date, what stupid self-controlled women would let men looking like Joel Miller go home after a date? Your feet suddenly felt a bit heavy, trudging along to begin your few miles hike to campus. Your apartment was just outside the compound, but the campus was huge. You stayed in your study room all day, eating ramen and an apple for lunch. When you got home after sundown, his truck was still not there.

For the first time in years, you had no one to wait for. No one to call and check if they’re okay, or if they’re coming home for dinner. No one to wake up to when they come home late. It’s just you now. It’s only been two weeks, you thought. This was normal. You needed time to adjust to being alone again. You had ramen again that night, knowing that you probably needed to eat healthier stuff, but you didn’t have the energy to cook, not that you had anything to cook in your small kitchen. You had been surviving on cafeteria food and takeout, and whatever bits of groceries you could buy from the small store on campus. You thought about going to the farmer’s market the next day, but the thought just made you tired. You were simply not ready.

You decided to go to campus again that Sunday. If you were going to graduate on time, you needed to get your act together. You didn’t have time to mourn your relationship with a man who left you as if you hadn’t been supporting his hopes and dreams for the past ten years, you had your own future to think about. One where you would be a single mother, so you needed to complete this dissertation as fast as you could, while working as much as you could, so that you can make enough money to prepare for the baby’s arrival, and get a reliable, full-time job to support them and give them anything they needed growing up.

When you left for campus that Sunday morning, Joel was still not home, not that you were checking, or knocking on his door while you were slipping a newly written cheque under his door. But his truck was not out front, not that you were looking for it. You spent the entirety of your walk to campus wondering why you cared. Was it because he looked out for you even before he knew you? It had to be, no way you felt a certain way about him, right? If you did, and that was a big IF, it must be because you were feeling vulnerable. You couldn’t really be catching feelings for some man you just met two days after you got dumped, right? Plus, even IF you were indeed feeling that way, the man couldn’t possibly be available. He was out the whole weekend – he must have a girlfriend or something. One that he spends his weekends with. Yeah. That’s it. That’s where he was. So, get him out of your head, you pathetic, dumped, single pregnant lady. No need to imprint on the first man who was nice to you.

When you left for work on Monday, his truck was finally back. He must’ve come back late Sunday night; it wasn’t there when you arrived after spending more than 12 hours on campus. You felt great that day. No nausea at all, for some reason. Maria stayed with you after work for dinner, but you declined her offer to drive you home, thinking that you should get some more work done while you were feeling great. You promised her you would get an Uber to go home. But of course, you didn’t. You could walk the distance. You need exercise anyway. When you got home, Joel was standing outside the apartment building, his arms crossed across his chest.

“Did you just get back?” he asked. His eyes scanned the road. “Did you walk?”

“Erm… no… I went out for groceries. I took an Uber.”

“You don’t have any groceries with you, and I literally just saw you walk down the street.”

“What were you doing out here at this time?”

“I was taking the trash out, throwing some cheque someone kept writing for me when I specifically told her not to. Also, I am perfectly safe within the vicinity of my apartment, and not walking alone and pregnant in the dark,” he said.

“Joel, you have to take the money okay. Please cash my cheque. I can’t be relying on you like this,” you pleaded, ignoring his other statement.

“Have you been walking home alone at night all this while?” and… he ignored you right back.

“No.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, opening the door for you to get in. He walked you up and shut the door behind you when you walked into the safety of your apartment without saying another word.

The next day, after work, you were planning to go up to the study, when a wave of nausea hit you out of nowhere. Maria, concerned, offered to drive you home. But you told her that you couldn’t – the nausea will go away, you hadn’t been hit with it full on yet, so far. You had to use the study, you said. The coffee table was too low, and the kitchen counter was too high and too narrow for you to do your work comfortably. Okay, she said, let’s go to Ikea then, get you a proper study table. You kept quiet and shook your head, no. You paid for the study room; you are going to use it. You didn’t need to worry your best friend with your financial woes. Sure, the small settlement Max gave you had helped ease the burden off a few things, but you didn’t see why you needed to spend money you could save for the baby on a desk you didn’t really need, when you had the option of using the one at the room you paid for. So, you went upstairs, had a little nap in your chair, and did your work for a few hours, Maria having left only after you promised her you would Uber home if you felt too ill.

When you got to the apartment compound, your ridiculously good-looking landlord was right where he was the night before.

“Taking the trash out again Miller?” you asked playfully.

“You definitely walked,” he said. “It’s fucking far. It’s not safe,” he said.

You just rolled your eyes at him. “I’m a big girl Miller. Gonna be a mom soon, I can take care of myself.”

He rolled his eyes right back at you, silently opening the door, again, walking you up before shutting it closed behind you.

You were not at all okay on Wednesday, Frank telling Maria to drive you straight home after work, despite your many protests. She ordered food for the both of you, and you fell asleep before she even left. You had to take Thursday off, nausea hitting you full blast it woke you up. You spent the day in bed, falling in and out of sleep, running back and forth to the bathroom to empty your empty stomach further. Around lunchtime, a knock sounded at your door. You were too out of it to even get up to open it, and decided to ignore whoever it may be.

“I have a key, you know. So, you either open up, or I will open it myself,” your landlord’s voice came through.

Shit. You look around your small apartment, the full trash cans, the clothes from last night all over the place, your bags, your laptop, your plates… Shit.

“I can hear you moving around. You have one minute to open the door, or I’m coming in,” he warned.

Shit. You took the three steps from your bed to the door and opened it a smidge.

“Hi Joel.”

There he was, you handsome landlord, arms full of takeout bags and groceries.

“What’s all this?”

“A little bird told me you were too sick to work today, and that your place is woefully devoid of food. So, here I am.”

You were going to kill Maria. Tattle tale.

“You’re going to let me in?” he asked. “I promise I’m not a creep. Just trying to put my brother’s girl at ease. She’s going to kill me if I don’t help you out. So will my Mama.”

You took a deep breath and opened the door wider for him, cringing on the inside at how messy your place was. But he just shut the door with his elbow, made his way to the small kitchen before plating up some food for you, placed it in front of you at the coffee table, and told you firmly to eat. As you did, he moved about the small unit, picking this and that up, washing the dishes in the kitchen that was so small it made him look gigantic, and stored all the groceries he brought away. You didn’t even have the energy to protest, having used up all your energy to throw up all morning. You finished your food, placed the plate on the coffee table, pulled your feet up onto the loveseat and fell asleep, already feeling better than you did when he walked in.

You woke up about a few hours later in bed. How the hell did you get here? You could’ve sworn you fell asleep on the loveseat. You sat up and was immediately struck by the wonderful smell of something simmering gently on the stove, and, oh my God your apartment was spotless. All the mess you were worried about when Joel knocked were gone.

Shit. Joel. Did Joel clean up while you were sleeping? Your dirty laundry was gone... did he pick up your dirty underwear too? Oh… the horror.

The door unlocked, and Maria and Frank walked in. Both smiling at you, asking you how you were feeling.

“How did you get in? Where did you get my key?”

“Ran into your very good-looking landlord downstairs. He gave me a copy,” Frank said, his eyes naughty. “Maria called him before we left. Didn’t want to wake you if you were sleeping.”

Maria placed the key and her purse on your coffee table, looking around the place, her eyes lingering on the pot on the stove. “Well, I was going to cook you something, but I see Joel took care of that.”

Frank got a spoon and sampled a bit of whatever it was on the stove. “Damn, that man can cook! He’s a good one darling. You should keep him,” he said, winking at you.

Maria snorted, while you just threw yourself face first onto the bed again. “How are you feeling babe?” she asked, stroking your hair softly, your mumbled ‘better’ into the mattress making her smile.

Frank sat on the loveseat and told you to take the rest of the week off. No use coming to work when you can barely stand, he said. Work can wait. You kept quiet, deciding to not share your worries with him, or anyone, for that matter. He stayed for a few more minutes before leaving you and Maria alone, saying he will only see you on Monday, and only IF you were feeling better, his finger pointing at you as a warning that he was serious. There was no use protesting anyway, you could hardly get off the bed.

Maria laid in bed with you, you two watching some show on Netflix on her tablet as she waited for Tommy to pick her up. Her car was at the shop today, and she insisted on staying with you until Tommy came with dinner, wanting to make sure you eat well, at the very least. She had known you since you both started your PhD journey, and she knew how neglectful you can be about food when it came to yourself, often opting to eat whatever you could get your hands on rather than putting much effort, especially when you were feeling sick. She turned the stove off, taking the pot off the burner. She took out some disposable containers from the cabinet, and ladled the contents into them, before leaving them on the counter to cool. You just watched, feeling thankful that you would at least have something to reheat and eat the next few days, unsure if you had the energy to do anything much.

When Tommy arrived, Joel came in with him, a basket of cleaned and folded laundry in his hands, placing it on the floor next to the closet after softly nudging the door shut. The four of you ate dinner amidst mild chit chats and laughter, Joel sitting cross legged on the floor with Tommy, you and Maria on the love seat. Somehow, you felt extremely comfortable, despite not spending much time with Tommy before your breakup, and only knowing Joel for a couple of weeks. Conversation flowed smoothly, and when dinner was done, they helped you clean up, before leaving you for the night.

You hugged Tommy and Maria goodbye, and turned to Joel, who was the last to leave the unit.

“Thank you, Joel. I don’t think I can thank you enough. I am mortified you cleaned up if I’m honest. I’m not usually this messy. And you did my laundry too!! Oh God… I’ve just been… anyway, I’m so sorry to be so much trouble. Thank you again Joel.”

“It’s no trouble. We all need some help from time to time. Like I said, I’m just downstairs. If you need anything, I’m right here. Okay?” he said, taking your hand in his for a bit, gently squeezing it, before quickly letting go.

You slept hard that night, your hand still feeling the ghost of his small touch earlier. So hard, you didn’t wake up until noon on Friday. You spent the day doing some work, hoping to make some progress even if a little, despite not feeling so good. The nausea had lessened for now, thank God. But the lethargy lingered. Too tired to do anything. God, you were not even three months in yet.

You had some of the soup Joel had made for you for lunch, man oh man the man could cook. You were contemplating heating up another serving for dinner when he knocked on the door, with a bag of takeout in his hands, all dressed up, just as he was last Friday. He told you he would be out for the weekend, but he won’t be far away, so if you needed anything, just give him a call, and he will be right over, okay? He handed you the bag, the smell of Thai food invading your senses. You told him he didn’t have to do this, you could order your own food, you feel better now, but he waved you away, and shut the door behind him, but not before reminding you to call him if you needed him.

You put the bag on the counter, and suddenly just felt… tired. You picked at the food he left you, feeling a different sort of nausea than you felt the days before.

You spent the entirety of the weekend at the study, putting in as much work as you can, so that you don’t think about your landlord spending the weekend at his girlfriend’s, instead of with you.

Shit. Pregnancy had made you delusional, hadn’t it?

---

WARNING - SOME MENTIONS OF BLOOD

You spent the next week avoiding Joel, spending more time at the study after work, walking home extremely late at night. It’s not right, you thought. He had someone; you were sure of it. Why else would he spend weekends away? And here you are, a hormonal, recently dumped mess of a woman, looking at some lucky lady’s boyfriend with heart eyes, all because he was a decent enough man to help you out every now and again. It’s not right. Max left you for someone else, you were going to make sure you didn’t contribute to another woman’s heart being broken if it was the last thing you did.

You found out from Maria that he and Tommy used to run a small but successful construction business, which went belly up when a developer for a big project that hired them ran off without paying them. Luckily, Joel had purchased the apartment complex with ten units to rent out before that happened, so they had a fallback income to rely on. Tommy helped out, managing the property, fixing this and that when needed, and eventually the two opened a small workshop, taking custom furniture orders. It started doing really well too, however, they had to cut back, a lot. They were no longer making the kind of money they were making when they had the construction business. Tommy was already living with Maria, but Joel had to sell his house and move into the complex, and that’s when his…

At this, Maria shook her head and stopped talking. You were sure there was more to the story but decided that with your newfound determination to avoid the man, it was none of your business.

Not that the plan worked, he was always at the entrance every time you got home. When you got home later and later, he took a chair out, and whittled at some wood under the light of the doorway while waiting for you. You limited your interactions to small smiles and a hello, but he didn’t falter. He would still walk you up, and closed the door behind you once you were in.

You went about your life for the next month or so, going to your appointment with Tess, working, fending off morning sickness, writing your dissertation, going home. And with the exception of his weekends away, Joel would be there waiting for you to get home safe. You wrote him a cheque for your medical bill every Friday, and every time, he would return them to you, or tear them up. Either way, no money was ever deducted from your account for that. It’s exasperating. It was as if he was determined to make your life hell, if hell consisted of thirsting over your ridiculously good-looking and gentlemanly landlord who wouldn’t take the money you owed him.

By the time your pregnancy hit four months, you were becoming more and more lethargic, falling asleep if you so much as sat still for a while. You were awoken one Thursday night at your study, a very worried looking Maria and Joel looking at you as if you’d died. He had gotten worried that you hadn’t come home, called you numerous times, but your phone was on silent. So, he called Maria, who flew out of her apartment to check up on you. He drove you home that night, not saying anything, but walked you up as usual, closing the door behind you.

The next morning, he was waiting for you at his truck when you left for work. He opened the passenger door for you, silently asking you to get in. You hesitated, but he pointedly told you he would drive alongside you the whole way over if he needed to, so you got in. He buckled you up, and drove you over, not saying anything as usual. When you left the faculty building late that night, his truck was right there, him whittling away on a piece of wood at the entrance, sitting on a folded chair he had brought along with him, all dressed up as he normally would be on Friday nights.

To say you were stunned was an understatement. It was almost ten at night, what was he doing there? Had to make sure you made it home safe, he said. Can’t have you falling asleep alone in that study again now, can we? You felt horrible. He was still obviously going to his girlfriend’s place, but he was delaying it to make sure you got home safe. You kept quiet during the short drive but stopped him before he got out of the truck to walk you up.

“Joel, you don’t have to do this. I can take care of myself. I refuse to be in the way of your life. Someone’s obviously waiting for you, Joel. How would they feel knowing you were late because you were picking up your pregnant tenant?”

He looked stunned for a little bit, but then smiled and said “well, I know for a fact that she’s proud of me.”

Huh???

“Where do you think I’ve been every weekend?”

“Er… I don’t know. Your girlfriend’s place?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Oh. Fuck, why are you blushing? You can’t see blushes in the dark, right?

“So where do you go every weekend?”

“These past few weekends? I take my mom out to dinner, and then spend the weekend with her. She lives alone, about 10 minutes from here. I usually only do that once a month, but she broke her foot a few weeks ago, so I went every weekend. Tommy joins too sometimes.”

Aww… shit. Good-looking, gentlemanly and kind to his mother. What the fuck were you going to do now?

---

That Sunday you decided to skip any form of work at all. You cleaned, ordered some groceries online and went downstairs to do your laundry. Your neighbours mostly consisted of single university students, usually much younger than you, with the exception of Mrs Adler, an older lady staying there while her house was being fixed due to fire damage. She was chatting you up while you were folding, when two younger tenants came in, girls in their early twenties, wearing next to nothing, showing off their perfect bodies. They were both expressing their disappointments that a certain older man was not around that day.

“Awww… looks like I’m gonna need to break my shower on purpose…” girl one said.

“Not if mine breaks first!!” girl two interrupted, before they both erupted in good natured laughter.

You couldn’t blame them. He was a good-looking man. And if being in his mid-30s made him older then you were old too. Except, when a woman is in her mid-30s, she’s old. When a man is in his mid-30s, he’s mature, at least according to the early twenties like these two. You couldn’t help but stare at their exposed body parts, the young, cellulite free body parts with supple skin that you used to have over 10 years ago. Nowadays, whatever crash diets that worked like a charm in your early twenties no longer worked, and you being pregnant was not helping. Those bodies of theirs were but a dream of what you used to have and can never ever have again.

No wonder Max left you for a younger model. And what would Joel want with you if he had these two stalking his whereabouts wearing next to nothing?

“You know dear, Joel is a very mature man. He won’t fall for those girls, no matter how hard they try. Joel is… sensible.”

You stared at Mrs Adler. Huh? Did you think out loud or something?

“I’ve known that boy since he was two. His mama is a good friend of mine. He’s a good man. He was raised right. And I know that he has been paying attention to you my dear,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Oh, come on Mrs Adler, why would he want someone like me,” you pointed at your small baby bump, “instead of those hot student bodies? He’s just a man you know.”

“Darling, the way those girls talk about him, if he wanted them, he could’ve had them. All he had to do was ask. He doesn’t. I think you should give him a chance.”

“He has never asked me out or flirted with me, Mrs Adler. I think you’ve been thinking too much,” you joked, laughing to hide your blushes.

“Oh… I don’t know… his mama told me he hasn’t shut up about a certain tenant of his…” she said, winking at you. “Oh honey, I’m just messing with you,” she coaxed, seeing you blush. “But that boy is shy dear, he is not one to flirt with you outright, if he does ask, give him a chance. God knows that boy deserves a good woman… after what he’d been through…” she shook her head sadly, before going to get her stuff from the dryer.

Okay, you need to know what it was that he’d been through now. Maybe you’ll ask Maria.

---

That week, he dropped you off on campus every morning, and picked you up every night, Monday and Friday being the only exception. After the calamity that was the previous Friday night you made a point to leave by eight that Monday, worried that he might wait for you like he did then. But he wasn’t there. Although relieved, there was a small part of you that felt a bit disappointed, but you brushed it off. After Max, you couldn’t afford to fall for someone so quickly. Once bitten, twice shy. He was just your landlord, he was nice. He helped you out the way any decent man would. That’s all.

When you arrived at the apartment an hour later, he was just about to leave to get you. He looked a little disappointed that you were already there, but walked you up anyway, again, silently closing the door behind you. The next day, he made sure to ask you what time you plan on going back, and when you tried to protest he raised his eyebrows at you. So, you told him 9pm. You saw his truck in the parking lot by 830.

On Friday, Maria stayed back with you, both of you deciding to go to the library after work. You texted Joel telling him your plan, so that he could go to his mother’s without having to wait for you. To your shock, his truck was still there when Maria dropped you off. He was sitting at his usual spot in his t shirt and shorts, waiting for you. He stood up when you got there. Maria saw and hid a smile from you, but recovered by asking you if you’d like to go to the farmers market with her and Tommy the next day? They’ll pick you up at eight.

Joel walked you up as usual. You asked him why he’s not at his mom’s, and he just shrugged and said her foot was better, thank you for asking. He’ll see her over the weekend.

The next day, Joel was waiting for you in his truck, and not Maria. You two will meet them there, he said. The drive to the farmer’s market was quiet, but you had never felt awkward when in silence with Joel. He was that comforting to be around. When you got to the market, you were met by both Tommy and Maria, both grinning at the sight of the two of you together, Joel helping you out of the truck as usual. He took the tote you had brought and refused to give it back to you.

As the four of you went around the market, Joel walked silently beside you, his presence bringing you warmth. Anytime you purchased something, he would take the items off your hands and placed them in the bag, but not before trying to fight you off paying the vendor. Over the next hour, this became a joke for the both of you, each competing to pay for something you wanted to buy before the winner eventually pumped a victorious fist and the two of you laughing as if you had known each other forever. Without realising it, you two were standing closer and closer together, and he began placing his hand on the small of your back to lead you away from vendors once you were done shopping. Tommy and Maria walked hand in hand behind you, both exchanging meaningful looks and satisfied smiles with each other.

You stopped for brunch at the café near the market before going home. You and Joel had gotten comfortable enough to share a menu and lean into each other as you perused it, wondering what you wanted to eat. When the food arrived, the four of you ate and chatted. You were feeling so comfortable for the first time since you had moved in, and unthinkingly, you took a piece of fruit from Joel’s plate. Once the fruit had entered your mouth, you paused, horrified at what you just did, and turned to look at him, an apology on your lips. You looked across the table, and Maria was just beaming at you, Tommy smiling so brightly at Joel you thought his face was going to crack. When you turned to look at Joel again, he just had the biggest smile on his face, and he pushed the plate nearer to you, before spearing a piece of omelette from your plate onto his fork and ate it. All the while, he was looking at you with a smile, daring you to chastise him.

Of course you didn’t.

After the meal, the four of you walked back to the car, still chatting and laughing as if you had known each other forever. When you got to his truck, he opened the door for you, making sure you were sat and buckled, before moving to put the tote you had brought in the back seat.

“Joel”, a voice called out.

Joel turned and went stock still. A lady with blonde hair was standing a few feet away, a man holding the hand of a little girl behind her. The little girl looked to be about five years old, her eyes and hair a carbon copy of her father’s, clearly distracted by a toy she was holding in her other hand.

Joel didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just stared. His eyes on the little girl and the man holding her hand, the man who was averting his eyes, looking annoyedly anywhere else but at Joel.

“How have you been?” the lady asked, her face nervous and unsure, her eyes flickering towards you.

Tommy and Maria reappeared, Maria going to the lady, and had a quiet but obviously heated discussion with her. Tommy took Joel by the shoulder and encouraged him to get back in the car. After some wild hand gestures from both ladies, Maria walked back to Joel’s truck, and the lady walked away, looking defeated. The man with her quickly handed the little girl to her, and turned away, his face unreadable.

After some quiet talks from Tommy, Joel started the engine and drove away.

It was as if someone had pushed the reset button on Joel. He shut down, hands gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles, his face tight, jaws clenched. You didn’t dare ask him anything, so you kept quiet. He didn’t speak at all, even as he pulled the door shut behind him after walking you up, placing the tote in your hands.

You spent Sunday morning cooking a big batch of your favourite meal. The small room had begun to feel like home to you, and cooking in the tiny kitchen made it even more so. You made enough for you to freeze and reheat over the week and decided to put several servings in a container to give to Joel. He did cook for you when you were sick, maybe it’s time you did something nice for him. He didn’t answer his door, so you placed the container on the doormat, hoping he would take it when he was available. Just as you turned around to leave, the door opened, so you quickly picked up the container to hand to him, but it wasn’t him at the door.

A kind-looking, older lady was there instead, and you just paused. She took one look at you, smiled, held her hand out to you and said,

“You must be Julia from 1A. Hi. Anita Miller. Come in! I’ve been dying to meet you.” She opened the door wider, and waited for you to come in.

“Sorry I was late answering the door,” she said, hobbling alongside you once you were inside. “My foot is still not 100%. Joel is at one of the apartments fixing something or other. Come sit, we can get to know each other,” she said, sitting down, patting the seat next to her.

You sat down and took in the apartment. You had never been to his apartment before. You realised quickly that it was nothing like yours, obviously renovated to create a bigger space for him. There seemed to be more than one bedroom, the place exceedingly clean for a bachelor pad. You understood now why Joel was so comfortable picking up after you that one time you were sick.

You and Anita chatted, getting to know one another. Her husband died about fifteen years prior, passing his construction business to Joel and Tommy to handle. They were young and made some mistakes trusting the wrong people. But they got back up, doing what they really wanted to do, using what skills they had learnt to supplement their incomes. She had a very proud mama look on her face when talking about the two. She had come to visit Joel after she had heard about the encounter at the farmer’s market. She planned on staying a few days, just to make sure Joel was fine.

You so wanted to ask her what that was about but didn’t want to seem nosy. She asked you about your pregnancy, reminiscing on when she was pregnant with her two boys while doing so. You liked her. She was very easy to talk to, but you couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that she was measuring you one way or another, and you couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or bad. Still, you found yourself telling her everything. It was the first time you did so. When it first happened, you told Maria and Frank the gist of it, and hadn’t had the energy to tell her anything more. Anita listened, and at the end, pulled you close to her, enveloping you in a hug.

The door opened, and you pulled yourself away from Anita’s hug. Joel walked in, a toolbox in his hand, his shirt and hair soaking wet. You guessed one of the young ladies showerheads had broken after all. He took a look at you and his mother on the couch, and turned slightly red. He muttered a quick hello before going into his bedroom, shutting the door gently behind him. You began to make excuses to leave, but Anita held your hand – don’t you dare, her eyes and raised eyebrows said, eerily like Joel’s. You took the container you had brought and suggested that you serve them lunch. Joel must be hungry.

Joel came out freshly showered and changed to his dining table set with lunch. He took a look at how you and his mama were talking easily to each other, his heart feeling fuller than it had been in years. He sat down, and the three of you ate, Anita complementing you on your cooking, Joel helping himself to a second serving, you and Anita talking about the little things going on in your lives.

Anita couldn’t help but look at her oldest boy, reading his minute body languages that she had known so well ever since he was in her belly. He was calm, relaxed. He didn’t say anything, but the silent looks he gave you told her everything. And this Julia from 1A, you seemed guarded, but somehow at the same time at ease with Joel. She liked you. You and Joel were quietly chancing looks at each other, something neither of you realised you were doing. But Anita saw. And she was happy about it. Tommy and Maria were not wrong, it seemed.

Mrs Adler came by after lunch, and the two older ladies went into the spare bedroom to catch up on their gossip. You helped Joel clean up, something that felt backwards to you. Max had never helped out in the kitchen. And you felt like you just saw a glimpse of the past that you hadn’t seen before. You thought back to the time Joel spent with you at the hospital, and remembered why you didn’t think of Max when the ultrasound session was going on. When your appendix burst a few years ago, Max only visited you for a few minutes every day, always having somewhere to be, important, money-making places. But you were the supporting girlfriend, so you didn’t mind.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Joel, asking you if you would join him for a walk. He had eaten a bit too much and needed one to avoid sleeping the evening away. Someone’s cooking was too good, he said, giving you a small wink. The two of you spent the next forty minutes or so walking around the area, you told him about your work and research, and in turn, he told you about the apartment building and his workshop. The Joel you saw back at the farmer’s market was back, it seemed. The two of you bantering and exchanging stories with each other, comfortably walking, shoulders brushing every now and again.

When you got back to the apartment, Mrs Adler was just leaving. You hugged Anita goodbye, feeling as if you had known her forever. She gave you a long and tight hug, telling you not to be a stranger. Joel walked you up as usual, but instead of silently shutting the door behind you, he took you by the wrist, and leaned in for a quick kiss on your cheek, thanking you for lunch. You kissed him back, also on the cheek, and asked him if he will drive you to work the next morning. His shyly nodded, his face blushing slightly, before turning around to leave.

You caught yourself smiling a lot for the rest of that day, even as you were mopping the floors, cleaning the bathroom, wiping the kitchen down. You felt silly, but you liked what you were feeling, just like a little girl with a crush. You went to bed smiling that night. You were still smiling when you got ready for work the next morning.

That was until, you looked at your feet in the shower and found the water red with blood from between your legs.

PART 3

[cantareincminor]

Round 2: Fandom Wrapped (Writer Edition) 2024!

Thanks again to @kattyelf for the template. A blank one can be found at @twiyorbase for anyone who wants to do their own!

Detailed reflections under the cut.

This is a long, introspective post. Forgive me if I sound self-absorbed in all this reflection.

The past year has been a unique one. The last long fic I completed was more than ten years ago in the Aladdin fandom. I dabbled in shorter, more stream-of-consciousness fics after that, but hadn’t written or posted a fic since 2016. Then I got into Spy x Family in 2022, devoured tons of fics, and slowly, nervously considered writing again.

There were many reasons I stopped writing. Being busy with real life responsibilities, naturally. I got married and had kids. I had a highly stressful career. With so little time on my hands, I feared that if I tried to write after such a long hiatus, the result would be stilted and disappointing, and I would have “wasted” my precious free time feeling shittier about myself. I’ve had some version of this mindset my entire life: if I can’t do something well, then I shouldn’t bother.

I have @whateversawesome to thank for encouraging me to try my hand at writing again. After the mole hunt arc was published, an idea struck me quite suddenly—what if Yuri had died or been critically injured in Shellbury? How would Twilight deal with that guilt and how would the identity reveals unfurl in such an extreme scenario? Could Yor ever forgive him? 

For months I shied away from writing it. To do the idea justice, I knew it would have to be a long, complex fic. And I continued to have mixed feelings about my last long fic in the Aladdin fandom—regretting parts of the premise and the ship dynamics and the characterizations and just overall feeling ashamed about my writing. I didn’t want to fail—write myself into a corner and abandon the fic or something like that. Right now, on the other end, I still look back on Orpheus sometimes and wonder how the hell I managed to write it. I reread my favorite passages and wonder how I came up with those exact words.

If it may help any writers, I would be happy to share a copy of my brainstorming doc and outline of Orpheus, where I kept track of unresolved plot points, options to resolve those plot points, notes to self to go back and add foreshadowing, and calling out unexpected events in each chapter that I did not plan ahead for. It is a very long doc. But I wanted to remember everything I was thinking at the time as a gift to my future self, in case I ever attempt a big project like this again and feel paralyzed.

Orpheus allowed me to explore themes and beliefs I suppose have been marinating in my heart for years. For anyone who is still interested, below are some of my thoughts and personal experiences around the main themes.

Forgiveness

Forgiveness and redemption are always what I reach for in my serious fics. I think I fumbled it in my Aladdin fic (or didn’t really get to the redemption part), but I was able to explore it more thoroughly and with more integrity in Orpheus, with an additional decade of life experience. 

I think forgiveness is a difficult and fascinating theme to handle because it is so highly personal and often carries memories of deep hurt for ‘victims’ or shame for ‘perpetrators’. I was grateful when readers sometimes shared their personal beliefs and experiences with it in their comments. In order to treat this theme with respect, I wanted to convey that forgiveness should not come cheaply. That is not to say it’s bad to be merciful and quick to forgive—those are amazing virtues. But the act of forgiveness comes at a cost and can be incredibly painful. The cost does not simply vanish due to good feelings or an act of the will.

Someone can either withhold forgiveness and make the other person pay the cost—in Orpheus, this would have been Yor rejecting or taking revenge on Twilight and leaving him to feel horribly guilty about Yuri’s injury for the rest of his life. Or they can choose to forgive and pay the cost themselves. In my own experience it feels physically painful. It feels like extreme grief. This is what I wanted to portray, the devastation to the spirit, as well as the catharsis that can follow. Because after the cost is paid, what we gain is healing. The ability to move on and no longer feel like we’ve swallowed glass. And the mending of a relationship, if both sides are willing. In the case of Yor and Twilight, it makes their relationship even stronger, like a broken bone healing stronger than before. And it adds weight to the trials they would face together after that moment.

Forgiveness of self / Perfectionism

Of all the conflicts in the fic, “Twilight vs. himself” is the last one to be resolved. Even after the man has been forgiven by the people he loves, he still struggles not to hate himself. To find his life to hold any value outside of being a highly competent spy. I think many people go through some version of this struggle. I certainly did and still do sometimes, with regards to work and career.

I chose Orpheus as the title to illustrate the journey of someone who carries an enormous burden on their shoulders. Trying to save the person they love and having to follow a strict rule of never turning around or they will lose it all. All the while, the temptation to look back is incredibly powerful. Twilight bears the burden of WISE’s expectations as their top spy, the hero who has stopped nuclear missile launches, who will supposedly prevent the next war from breaking out. He also carries the expectations of his newfound family which call him to turn away from the ruthlessness of his mission. To look back at them, and not abandon them for the sake of world peace. And finally he carries the guilt of what happened to Yuri, and the pain of keeping all the secrets resulting from Shellbury.

In Orpheus, Twilight harbors both a very low sense of self-worth as well as a highly inflated sense of self-importance. He sees himself as a discardable tool who has done unforgivable things for his missions, with no right to love and be loved. But at the same time he sees himself as the lynchpin to maintaining the fragile geopolitical peace. Responsible for never screwing up, ever. Responsible for the fact Yuri was shot, even though he tried his best to spare him. He’s an unreliable, self-absorbed narrator, and the other characters around him also parrot his guilt back at him throughout most of the fic. Until the end, where I try to address the illusion of control and how a good portion of his guilt is unrealistic and undeserved. 

Unfortunately for many people who carry this kind of burden, no one tells us that it’s okay to turn around. That we are indeed not responsible for more than our own choices, and we certainly cannot be responsible for circumstances outside of our control. I’ve worked jobs where I’ve been asked to do the impossible. My first job out of college, the expectations were incredibly high. I got no training and was thrown into a project in a foreign language and an unfamiliar industry. I pulled so many late nights that in the second week I fainted on the way to the office. And I was told this was normal. That in order to succeed like everyone else, I would figure out a way to solve each problem thrown at me, no matter how impossible.

And what sucks is when you start succeeding. You pull off miracle after miracle and then people start expecting it of you like it’s normal. The reward for success isn’t a break. It’s more work. Harder work. And you buy into that unrealistic narrative that you should be able to do it or something must be wrong with you, you must be broken and can’t perform like you used to. And when you finally break, you get spit out and discarded like an outdated machine. They find the next, younger miracle worker to buy into the narrative.

Knowledge vs Wisdom

This is an easier one. Funny that Twilight’s agency is called WISE in canon. But what is wisdom? The ability to discern between right and wrong, to utilize knowledge effectively for the greater good, to know how to truly live life and live it well. 

Twilight strikes me as the kind of person who uses knowledge as a weapon, not too dissimilarly to Yuri who literally states “knowledge is power.” Twilight hoards knowledge like building an arsenal, so he can always be prepared for any problem. And this is how nations treat knowledge (intel) in the real world. Constantly trying to gain an information advantage on the enemy. 

But how does one know if one’s strategy to use all that knowledge is right? In Orpheus, the Ostanian state exhibits little wisdom in its pursuit of endless knowledge, experimenting on children and prisoners and animals to gain an edge over its rivals and amass more power for those at the top. At the same time the competition and backstabbing between the various arms of the state are almost childish in their motivations, the epitome of foolishness. Knowledge on its own does not build trust or confidence—but it can build hubris and confusion and distrust. 

One unexpectedly fun part of writing Orpheus was the dynamics between Garden and WISE. While there is distrust at the start, the leaders and members of both sides demonstrate wisdom in how they navigate the partnership and grant trust to each other bit by bit. And this feels very counterintuitive to spies who build careers off of lies and masks, as they find that truthfulness can unlock results so much faster than subterfuge. At least when it comes to dealing with Garden.

On a final note on this topic, I find it interesting that in canon Donovan Desmond claims it is impossible to know what other people are thinking and therefore human beings can never trust each other. And yet the highest form of knowledge (second only to knowing God), in my opinion, is to truly know another person to the depth of their soul. To know a person completely, and to trust and love them regardless. This is what all people yearn for, even people like Twilight who have made a fortress of masks around their true self. And this kind of knowledge is what requires deep wisdom to wield well.

Sigmund Authen’s gift of the Tree of Life plaque and the accompanying wisdom quote was an unexpected event I did not plan in my outline for Chapter 33. So was Barbara’s advice to Yor in Chapter 34, which I will end this long ramble with:

Before the two left, Barbara turned and patted Yor’s arm. “I know what it’s like to be married to a brilliant man, dear. Don’t feel discouraged. They don’t need their brilliance and worldly achievements so much as they need our love. I know it can be exhausting sometimes, but I’ve stuck by my Siggy this long through thick and thin. What he didn’t mention amidst all that blather about wisdom is that even wisdom isn’t the final goal of all of mankind’s striving. Love is. What is a life full of wisdom and philosophy if it doesn’t help you find love and keep it? In my simple little mind, that’s what wisdom is for. Goodnight, dear. Thank you for having us over.”

And that's a wrap for my 2024!