#its a little rushed because my laptop is on 20% and I refuse to go get the charger

[captainderyn]

Kiss prompts for whoever speaks up: …as a ‘yes’.

This took me forever to answer, but Five and Roslynd (pre-relationship...sort of) spoke up! Thank you for the ask :)

Five/Roslynd

--

Staring at the name written in bold text at the top of the dossier, Roslynd wondered exactly what strings of fate had crossed as she wove through the hallways of Imperial Intelligence headquarters.

Her sharply polished boots clicked across the tile with each measured step, far steadier than her heart, which galloped away out of control beneath her pressed jacket.

It had been years. The coincidence would have been funny had she not run into Rhys, now designated Cipher Seven, and received an off the record briefing with details Keeper had left out of the dossier.

Many details.

Roslynd paused at a nondescript office door, closed, the windows into the hallway tinted so it was difficult to make out more than the shadow sitting behind the desk.

Though she raised her hand to rap her knuckles on the door, she paused and glanced once more at the dossier.

Designation: Cipher Five

Legal Name: Valetyn A. Slovoko

The name plate on the door read Cipher Five, followed by a hand written note tacked beneath listing out when he'd be in office.

She knew she was stalling, rocking side to side, but she inspected the note. His handwriting had always been frustratingly neat where hers had always been rough scrawl, his letters still slanted ever so slightly to the right. Figures he'd still hand write everything when he could.

If she stood out here any longer he'd probably come and investigate, there was no way he hadn't seen her shadow pass by the window. She let her knuckles fall thrice against the door.

"Come in." The familiarity of his voice struck deep in her chest, tugging at long buried strings.

She pressed the pad to the side of the door frame and it slid open with a soft swish. A rush of cool air from the vent in the ceiling washed over her, sending a shiver down her back.

Valetyn's office was exactly what she would expect it to be. Clean kept, bare bones, but pockets of himself hidden away. She recognized the old globe of Dromund Kaas on a shelf behind his desk. She distinctly remembered every time he'd snapped at her to quit spinning it when he'd been trying to study and she'd long grown bored of the tedious readings.

The harsh overhead lights were switched off in favor of two lamps, lit with soft yellow bulbs, enveloping his office in a cozy wash of light in contrast with the gloom outside. Why hadn't she thought of bringing lamps into her office?

Seconds ticked by with her silence and she knew she should say something, snap a salute even if she technically out ranked him, anything to not make things awkward. Though the door had hissed open, he hadn't ceased typing. The keyboard clacks were distracting.

Her mouth was bone-dry, her eyes locked on Valetyn. Her brain was spinning in circles, fumbling several different words into an unintelligible tangle.

He broke the silence first, flicking his wrist to check his watch, "If you've got something to say, say it quick, I have a meeting in...well, now."

The bluntness, she couldn't stop her soft chuckle, "Glad to see you're still one for pleasantries."

He paused, head whipping up. She froze beneath his gaze that fixed on her, watched transfixed as his eyes narrowed, then softened, his brows drawing low. Once more he glanced at his watch, then clicked on his monitor before his eyes snapped back to her.

She might as well be pinned in place by that look. The years gone by had dampened the memory of how intense his presence was.

"Fixer Fourteen?" Though formal, the edge smoothed from his voice.

"I'm she." Roslynd shifted her datapad from arm to arm, daring to step deeper into his office. The door whoosed closed behind her as she moved from the motion sensor.

A sense of intimacy hung in the closed space, she tried to shake it off, "It's good to see you Val."

"That's classified."

Her brows knit, "...what?"

"My name." He closed something off of his monitor and pushed his chair back to stand, "That's classified. It's Five."

Rhys had mentioned Five had his...tendencies. Things he'd latched onto over the last decade of service. He'd mentioned other things as well, some more concerning than others.

"Alright then...Five." She pressed her lips together at that, "It's my understanding that Keeper had assigned me to take over for your previous fixer. It appears we'll be working together again."

If she wasn't mistaken, a ghost of a smile flitted across his face. But that couldn't be right, it was gone before she could catch it.

Their meeting was brief, it had been timed to be an introduction as if they were strangers, not the reunion of two old friends or...wherever they had stood when he'd left for his first assignment.

While she should've been listening without distraction as he explained his work preferences, how he worked most effectively, she couldn't help reconciling this Valetyn with the one she'd known.

He'd always been handsome in a refined, old fashioned way, but the grey coming in at his temples, the crows feet forming at the creases of his eyes, had aged him like fine wine and it did little to help her focus. Valetyn always looked like he would be more at home in a plush library with a glass of whiskey than the gleaming chrome of Intel.

Rhys hadn't lied about the effect this work had on him though. While Rhys was all healing scars and a heavier build, Valetyn was sharp lines and dark smudges under his eyes.

"Fourteen, are you listening to me?" Her designation swept over her and Valetyn repeated himself, "Fourteen?"

She blinked, realizing too late she'd been staring at the clean pressed lines of his uniform, how it was either better fitted than those issued by the Academy or he'd filled out, "Sorry, I promise I've been listening."

It was nice to know she still had a type. Her cheeks heated. His lips most certainly twitched up at the corners now before that too flitted away.

"I'm looking forward to being a team again." Roslynd cleared her throat, "And maybe getting to know each other again, covering these last several years."

If she could pick things up with Rhys like a day hadn't gone by, maybe the same could happen with Val. If time hadn't changed them both too much.

A chime sounded from the monitor on Five's desk and irritation settled across his features, hardening his eyes and deepening the lines across his forehead.

Roslynd made to take a step back, glancing back towards the door and checking her own watch, "I should let you get back to it, seems like Keeper has you booked."

Valetyn grimaced, leaning across his desk to click something several times over until the chiming stopped. She was reaching for the door when he caught her hand, her fingertips almost grazing the button.

He paused, wrapping his fingers around hers in a gentle squeeze, and his eyes darted between their hands, her, and the door. Then he blinked and before she registered what he was doing, his lips brushed across the back of her hand.

"I'm looking forward to working together, Roslynd."

The way he said her name washed over her in a rush of heat, rising up her cheeks. His monitor began chiming again insistently and he scowled back towards his desk.

"We'll meet up later." Roslynd managed to get out with some semblance of normalcy, mashing the door button with a hand that didn't want to work. Her skin was alight where his lips had brushed.

Valetyn gave a nod, alright slinging himself back into his chair. Whatever glimmer of energy she'd seen flash through him when recognizing her had drained out of him.

She slipped out the door, letting it close behind her before she let out a breath, tucking her datapad under her arm so she could press her chilly hands to her flaming cheeks.

"How'd it go, Ros?" She jumped, the datapad slipping from beneath her arm. It clattered to the ground and she swore.

"Dammit, Rhys!"

"Stars, Ros, you're redder than a Korribani sunburn, did it go that bad?"

Glowering at him, she grabbed his arm and tugged him out of earshot of Five's office, "No not bad, idiot, could you say that any louder?"

Rhys trotted after her, grinning from ear to ear, "Ooh, I see. So I see you've still got it bad for--"

"Shut up, Rhys." She warned, glancing around pointedly for any other agents milling around. It didn't take much to get the rumor mill turned in this office, especially in a division as small as the ciphers. Nothing would help her working relationship with Five than putting him into the spotlight ten minutes after she'd stumbled back into life.

"Fine." Rhys held up a hand in surrender, "But after hours? Meet me at the bar on the corner of Tenth and Quadrant and you're going to have to tell me exactly what he did."

"Fine." Roslynd grumbled, tucking her hand close to herself. She swore she could still feels his lips on her skin. It was benign, chivalrous in that infuriating way of Val's, but filled with so much promise. Clearer than any words he could've said.

That whatever bond they'd built, whatever comradery they'd shared, wasn't completely lost.

[buckys-little-belle]

Okay okay one more and it’s only so I don’t forget cause I will; How about When Bubba try’s to weasel out of or Stall or bedtime cause they struggle with a loud brain aka Anxiety, or insomnia Surprise me lol it can be Steve or Bucky and this can be a fic or HC (No rush either 💗 just wanted to send it before I forget ((of course it had to be around bedtime)) lol)

Just a little longer

Steve x Little!reader (they/them/ no pronouns used)

Warnings : sleep issues, mentions of anxiety, soft!steve

SFW : please keep all interactions with this fic and blog SFW

Authors note : I’m sorry that its only Steve! I was going to do both but I had a huge brain crash and for some reason i had no idea what to write for Bucky! I hope you like it anyways <3

- - - - - - - - - -

Steve

Steve my beloved

Steve is definitely a routine guy, he has a whole bedtime schedule thats framed in your bedroom in case you forget the next step.

So when he notices that you aren’t following the routine he knows its not because you don’t know what to do.

The first night he blames himself for your odd behaviour, thinking he let you eat too much sugar before bed, how could he let you drink a regular juice box instead of the sugar free ones?

He noticed that night that you were awake for longer than usual, your breathing taking longer than usual to become steady, your body wriggling around for longer than normal.

Again he chalked this up to the lack of structure when it came to your bedtime routine that night, the lack of structure chalked up to a sugar overload because of the juice box.

The second night you seemed to be even more off schedule, refusing to stop colouring at 9pm like normal, wanting to finish your page that you clearly just started.

Then when you finally lost that argument you refused to drink the juice, saying it was too sweet, which he knew for a fact was a lie, you drank the same juice last night.

None the less he poured half of the juice box into a sippy cup, filling the rest up with water. Looking at the clock though he was frustrated, you were already 20 minutes off schedule.

After brushing your teeth and getting you all settled into bed he heard you slip out of bed and running to your playroom. When you returned you had a story book with you. “Read it for me?” You asked with puppy dog eyes.

“Baby it’s bedtime” he responded, frustration clearly laced how words. “Um yes, but i needa book daddy” your bottom lip now puffed out. “Baby you never want to read stories before bed what’s going on?”

At this point steve had gotten out of bed and walked towards you, taking the book out of your hands and picking up up, eventually sitting the two of you down on the edge of the bed.

“Nofin” you pout, your brain panicking, trying to come up with any excuse to stay up later. Steve layed his head atop yours, “baby what’s wrong” he spoke, his voice calm and collected this time.

“My brain jus wont stop movin���” your words were slurred and your body tired. Steve knew what you meant, you’ve been doing really well lately but he knows that sometimes your anxiety can make you think non stop when you just want to sleep.

“Okay” he said as he kissed the top of your head, slowly moving you to our side of the bed, tucking you back under the covers.

He walked towards the door and let you know he would be right back, soon walking back into the room with his laptop. He set it down on your night table and began scrolling through Netflix, eventually finding a tv show to put on for you.

He found that during these times, where your mind wouldn’t stop thinking about everything and anything, that watching some tv to distract your mind would put you to sleep in no time. The characters occupying your thoughts and our body slipping into the deep sleep that you needed.

He slipped into bed behind you, holding you in his arms as he wrapped his legs with yours. “Feeling better baby?” He whispered. You mumbled back a quick “mhm”

The two of you stayed like that for a half an hour, by then you fell asleep and steve turned the tv show off, soon falling asleep as well.

[lynnsfics]

The Sticky Web of Fate’s Strings

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU (Gender-neutral pronouns)

Word Count: approx. 3k

~~~

Soulmates, connected by the strings of Fate, shared a similar life force. In simpler terms, every time your soulmate was injured, from the tiniest scratch to a broken bone, the same thing would happen to you. 

Growing up, Bucky always found himself getting into scrapes trying to defend Steve. But every bruise, every scratch, he got on his own. Never once did a single bruise or cut appear that wasn’t his own. Even his sisters started showing some little cuts when they were only toddlers. Hell, half of Steve’s were from his soulmate.

Every time it was brought up, Bucky’s mom would try to reassure him, stating that maybe his soulmate was just very cautious or didn’t get hurt easily. But by the time he was in his 20s and there wasn’t even a sign, he knew his soulmate just wasn’t out there. That’s why he didn’t hesitate when signing up for the war, knowing there wasn’t anyone out there he’d be leaving behind. That’s also why when he fell from the freightcar, there wasn’t any fear, only acceptance at what the Fates had dealt him. HYDRA didn’t mind the fact he didn’t have a soulmate. It guaranteed less memories, less trouble. Until the day Bucky got a cut that wasn’t his own. You were born missing your left arm, The doctors reassured your parents it wasn’t anything that happened to you, but rather your soulmate and you were given a functioning prosthetic to use. You were never upset about having to relearn everything with the prosthetic, however. And on the upside, there weren’t a lot of people missing a whole arm, which would only make finding your other half easier. 

Or so you thought. You were five when it first happened. It was during recess, you were sitting on the sidewalk next to your best friend Stephanie and drawing a flower with chalk. Suddenly, you felt a piercing pain in your leg, followed by blood seeping from your wound. You weren’t sure who screamed first, but one of you did, drawing the teacher’s attention. Seeing what happened, her face paled and she rushed you to the nurse. The wound looked like a bullet had caused it, but since there was no way it would have been possible for you to have been shot, they concluded that it had been your soulmate.  

You spent the rest of the day in agonizing pain, and the teacher’s gave you the rest of the month off to heal. You can imagine the surprise when your wound fully healed in about a week. You returned to school, and passed a few more years without incident.

Occasionally, you would get pounding headaches followed by bouts of amnesia that would last several days. But it seemed every few years, a bullet wound, or stab wound, or sometimes both, would appear, only to heal in about a week or so. But through it all, you were less worried about yourself and more concerned for your soulmate’s safety. It was puzzling not knowing who they were, and even more so not knowing how they healed so quickly. You did countless hours of research on soulmates. Everyone knew the basics. When you were born, the Fates tied a thread that connected your life to your soulmates. This connection wasn’t just spiritual, but physical as well. Your injuries would appear on your soulmate and vice versa. Some people didn’t have the same soul connection as others, and instead experienced a purely platonic relationship with their soulmate. After another long night of reading numerous articles, you were no closer to finding anything that was similar to what you experienced. 

Your alarm was blaring in your ear. Rolling over, you grabbed your phone to check the time, and then proceeded to have a miniature heart attack. You hated morning shifts but Stephanie asked you to cover for her and you agreed. You couldn’t refuse your best friend, especially since she covered your shift last week after another bullet wound appeared.

You rolled out of bed, taking a quick glance around your apartment. You found your uniform through the mess and grabbed your keys before heading out the door. Cursing, you turned around and went back inside. The sunlight glinted off the wood floors, temporarily blinding you.  As you set out a bowl of cat food, you prayed another wave of amnesia wasn’t starting.  You felt something scratch at your leg, drawing a few drops of blood, and looked down where Nala meowed up at you. You shook your head at her before grabbing your phone, which you also forgot, and headed out, for real this time.

The morning was hot and humid as you walked to work. The summer sun was beating down on the pavement, still wet from the previous night’s rainstorm, causing a faint mist to hang in the air. You groaned internally at how many complicated iced coffees you’d have to make.

Arriving at the corner coffeeshop, you realized you’d be the only one working that morning. You unlocked the door and turned on the lights inside. The smell of coffee filled your senses and you felt a feeling of familiarity wash over you. You flipped the sign on the door to say ‘open’, and then turned on the television. Although you would have loved to watch some morning talk show, you switched on the news, deciding to get caught up on what you missed while you were recuperating.

A picture of Avengers tower was on screen, and you wondered what controversy they had sparked this time. A newscaster stated, “Today James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, best friend of Captain America and former Winter Soldier, is officially becoming a member of the Avengers. Although his past with HYDRA has made people skeptical of him, most are excited to see what he has to bring to the team.” 

When a picture of him was shown, you gasped. He was handsome, with piercing blue eyes and shoulder length locks of chestnut hair, but most apparent was his metal arm. You grabbed your laptop and looked up his name. Apparently he had fought next to Steve Rogers in World War Two, where he allegedly died. But instead, he was found by HYDRA and brainwashed into being an assassin. 

You shook your head. It couldn’t be true, there was no way he could be your soulmate. You closed your laptop and pushed it away, electing to think of something, anything else. 

The bell on the door jingled as a group of customers entered the shop. As you prepared their order, you felt a sharp pain in your thigh, and you instantly knew it was a stab wound. Gritting your teeth through the pain, you continued making their drinks. After dealing with this for twenty-some years, you had developed a high pain tolerance. 

A breaking news alert appeared on the television just as you felt a bullet enter your other leg. 

~~~

It was the big day. Bucky was nervously suiting up for his first official public appearance since joining the Avengers when he felt something scratch the back of his leg. Glancing down, he saw a few drops of blood appear. 

He remembered when he first started to get small marks from his soulmate, and he always managed to hide them from HYDRA. Even while brainwashed, he knew that they’d find a way to use his soulmate against him.

Trying to brush it off, he finished getting ready and started out the door. The moment he stepped outside Avengers Tower he was flocked by the press trying to get an interview with the infamous Winter Soldier. 

Cameras were flashing all around him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, his head starting to get fuzzy. He couldn’t deal with flashing lights, not since the “shock therapy” that  HYDRA had put him through. Luckily, Steve pulled him out of the crowd, guiding him towards the stage where the press conference would take place. 

Once he was sure no one was around, he glanced over at Steve, “I got another scratch today. It wasn’t from anything I did, so it had to have been from them.” Steve smiled, “Well that’s a good thing Buck. That means your soulmate is out there somewhere.” “That’s just it, Steve. I don’t know,” he paused, “I don’t know if I want to find them.” 

“Why not? When we were younger-” “Because things aren’t the same as when we were younger. You know that just as well as I do. The things I’ve done,” he trailed off before continuing. “Besides, the amount of times I’ve gotten hurt on missions, my soulmate got hurt too. If they have any sense, they won’t want to find me, either.” 

“Bucky you can’t mean that.” But before he could answer he was swept away by another wave of reporters. 

By the time the press conference had started, Bucky had managed to dodge a lecture from Steve at least three times. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to find his soulmate. He longed for that connection more than anything else. But there was something so daunting about the thought that someone out there was meant to be his other half. And when that someone found out the Winter Soldier was their soulmate? They’d go running the other way, and he couldn’t bear that. He didn’t need someone else to be scared of him. 

Stepping on stage, he felt everyone’s eyes on him, judging silently. He now wished that Steve hadn’t talked him into his current outfit. It was tasteful tactical gear, but there were no sleeves, meaning the metal arm was on full display. The sunlight glinting off of it didn’t exactly help make it any less threatening either. 

Steve was at the mic, warming up the crowd. “And now, I would like to introduce my closest friend, Bucky Barnes.” 

Just as he was about to take the microphone, bullets started flying. 

A tall man with pitch black hair emerged from behind the makeshift stage. Grabbing the microphone, he shouted over the din of the crowds, “Your Avengers cannot save you, in time all empires fall.” 

A knife found its way into Bucky’s thigh and he winced, but kept going. This wasn’t any time to tend to his wounds. He could feel bullets bouncing off his suit, which he was now thankful for, until one lodged itself into his side. 

Over the intercom he could hear the others talking and discussing different strategies, but FRIDAY’s voice spoke over them all. “An explosive has been detected in a building a few blocks from here. It may have a connection to all of this.” 

“Bucky and I will head over to check it out,” Steve replied. Bucky sighed to himself, even during a crisis Steve would find time for a lecture. “Look,” he said as they made their way towards the row of buildings, “your soulmate is someone who’s going to accept you, no matter who you are or what you’ve done. Why don’t you give them a chance?” “Because say they do accept me, then what? Something like what’s happening right now happens, and they get hurt or killed in the crossfire, just because they’re my soulmate? And HYDRA can literally use them to hurt me. It’s not worth the risk to put them in that kind of danger, I can’t risk it.” “And what if they already know? I mean, your soulmate has been getting bullet wounds their whole life, and is probably missing an arm. Seeing you on television, they might make the connection.” Bucky considered it for a moment, “Look, if I somehow find my soulmate, it might work out. But I just want to make sure they don’t feel pressured to fall in love with someone who used to be the Winter Soldier because of it.” “I’m glad you-,” before Steve could finish his sentence, an explosion came from a nearby coffee shop and at that moment Bucky felt the wind get knocked out of his lungs.

~~~

As much as you usually tried to hide your pain from the customers, it was hard not to cry out in agony as a building crumbled on top of you. Breathing became a struggle as the weight of the debris began to crush your lungs. Something sharp was digging into your back but when you tried to move dots danced in front of your vision. 

Over the ringing in your ears you were able to make out some voices. “Help,” you called out weakly, coughing as you spoke. “I’m over here, please, someone help,”

Dust fell from the rubble above you as some bricks were moved. Some of the weight shifted off your chest, and you felt like you could breathe again. The debris was moving faster now, and soon a stream of sunlight came through and fresh air entered the rubble. As you were finally able to move around a bit more, you realized your prosthetic arm was hanging limp at your side. As much as you wanted to get upset about it, that was the least of your worries. Blood was dripping from your head and back. You probably had at least a few broken bones, but you were thankful you were even alive. 

An arm reached through the rubble to help you out, and as soon as you made contact a shock went through your body. It couldn’t be possible. 

Once you were back on your feet you made eye contact with the same pair of piercing blue eyes you had seen on the television. Very elegantly, you said, “You, you’re my, my-” “Soulmate,” he finished with a sad smile. “We have a lot to talk about, but you should probably get some rest first.” 

You could only nod in response, between the shock and the thrumming headache forming in the back of your mind, no words could be found. So in a way, you felt lucky that the blood loss hit you at the exact moment, causing you to pass out.

A steady beeping in your ear awoke you. Groggily, you tried to open your eyes, but promptly squeezed them shut again as a blindingly white light hit them. A cleanly smell filled your senses, and you realized the loose fitting clothes you were wearing were not your own. You realized you were in the hospital, a place you were used to, needing to go there frequently because of your soulmate. 

Your eyes shot open. Soulmate. All the memories came flooding back to you, The building collapsing, the pain, him. As you tried to sit up you realized the hospital you were in was not your own. 

A man in a white lab coat stood near your bed, a warm smile on his face. He looked familiar, although you couldn’t quite place where you knew him from until he spoke. “I’m glad to see you’re awake. I’m Bruce Banner, I’ve been tasked with making sure you recover fully.”

“Bruce Banner? What alternate reality did I wake up in,” you asked yourself. “Where am I?” 

“You’re safe in the hospital at Avengers tower,” he answered reassuringly. “We were able to fix your arm, and the man who set off the explosion has been apprehended. Oh, and Steve told me what happened, about the whole, uh, soulmates thing. Bucky’s been recovering in the room over, since he sustained all the same injuries you did. But he’s been feeling much better, so when you’re ready I can send him to see you. If you’re alright with that,” he said.

You hesitated for only a moment before replying. “Can you send him in now?” 

A few moments later the door swung open and Bucky entered, looking tired, but not much worse for wear. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a hospital gown but was instead back in some kind of tactical gear. “Hey doll,” he smiled softly, “how are you feeling?” 

“A lot better, thank you. Are you alright, I know from first hand experience that having a building fall on you isn’t much fun and since,” you trailed off, leaving the rest of the sentence unspoken. 

He pulled a chair next to your bed, “I’m doing better, the super serum definitely has its benefits in situations like this.”

You took a sharp breath in before speaking, “So, I’m guessing you want to talk about all this soulmate business.” Almost immediately after asking you felt a bit embarrassed and the bedsheet seemed a hundred times more interesting than it had a minute ago.

“If you want to,” he paused, and you nodded a brief ‘yes’. He continued, “No one knows besides us, Steve and Dr. Banner. So you aren’t in any danger. I understand if you don’t want this, I know I’m not the ideal soulmate-” Your head snapped up as you cut him off, “Bucky, why would I not want to be your soulmate?” “With everything I’ve done,” he sighed, not meeting your gaze, “and all the pain you’ve been put through because of it.  And being my soulmate comes with a lot of dangerous consequences. I just assumed that it would be easier for you to just walk away.”

You gently held his hand and intertwined your fingers. Meeting his gaze, you said,  “What you did in the past was not you, and it has no reflection on who you are as a person. And every scar I have just served as a reminder that there was someone out there to complete me.” You ran your thumb over a scar on his hand, a perfect match to a scar on that was your palm. “My whole life I’ve known  my soulmate led some kind of dangerous life, I’ve come to terms with that. It would not be easier for me to just walk away from you, in fact it would be damn near impossible.”

He smiled as he untangled your fingers to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. Leaning towards you, he whispered, “Doll, would it be alright if I kissed you?” And when you answered yes, his lips met yours and your heart fluttered. And although you might not have the “safest” life with Bucky as your soulmate, you knew it would be perfect. 

~~~ General taglist:

@sydneyisnotawriter

@dark-night-sky-99

To those of you who just found this one shot, welcome! And to those of you who are here after reading Coffee Stained Confusion, welcome back! I will be posting a few one shots over the next few weeks before starting the next longer fic! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated and let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! Love you all <3

[nightwingshero]

All I Wanted

So...I did a thing. @sapphicvalhallas maybe I wasn’t as innocent as I claimed. Anyway, so I’m gonna be honest, I just wrote this out because I got inspired by a few songs. Mainly Misguided Ghosts and All I Wanted by Paramore. Hence the name. But...yeah.

“Do you think he’ll be happy?” I whispered, glancing up at Rowan as insecurity ate at my insides. She met me with a glowing smile as she stuffed the little booties in the gift bag with the paper.

“I know he will be. Having a miniature version of himself running around? He’s going to be ecstatic.”

I smiled, feeling reassured as I finished tying the bow around the plastic stick and setting in the bag. I was about two months, or at least, that’s what one of the doctors in the Project had said. Luckily, she still stuck with the doctor/patient confidentiality. The idea that the family was growing elated them, and I was curious if she had been more excited than I was. But that was what led us here, Rowan and I, away from her cabin in the woods with Jacob, and getting out of the ranch from John’s watchful eye.

If I was being honest, deep down I was terrified. So fucking terrified. The absolute joy the woman expressed, forced me to put a smile on my face, but I didn’t feel it. I went home, vomited up all the anxieties, fears, and trauma that went along with news like this for someone like me. Not that I was alone. No, many women have had to deal with stuff like I had, and I reminded myself of that. But to me? That defining moment haunted me enough that even the bliss twisted my nightmares into reality. Something that was supposed to be uplifting, showed me just how much my heart still bled.

But this was a new beginning, the real fresh start of my life, unlike what had happened when I first moved here. The blotched arrest, the constant fighting…falling in love with the enemy, and the ultimate betrayal. It was like I had free fallen into absolute chaos and it wasn’t until I realized what made me happy, that I was able to breathe.

“Wren?”

My eyes snapped back up to Rowan’s dark brown ones, a bit startled. “Hmm?”

Rowan frowned, leaning forward to squeeze my hand. “Hey, are you doing alright?”

“I’m fine! I was just deep in thought. Did you say something?”

She opened herself, but there was a sharp knock on the door, drawing both of our attention. Without waiting to be called in, Jane burst through the door. I smiled at the presence of my favorite redhead, something smart on the tip of my tongue, but I stop as her frantic eyes meet mine.

“Sister Wren, we need to leave. Now.”

Rowan glanced at me as my frown deepened. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

She swallowed, closing her eyes briefly. “The ranch. It was attacked. The alarm had been triggered.”

“When?” Rowan demanded. I couldn’t move, let alone speak, as I went cold.

“About 20-30 minutes ago—”

“That long?!” I shriek, shooting up. “How the hell am I just now hearing about this?” I stormed out of the room, heading outside with both women on my heel.

“I just found out—”

I yanked open the driver side door and climbed in. Jane looked at me in shock, but I didn’t care. I didn’t need my Chosen driving me around, I only relented sometimes for John’s sake. I didn’t trust Jane to throw caution to the wind. I glared at her through the window. “Get in the fucking car.”

She pursed her lips before climbing into the passenger side, Rowan climbing in the back. I didn’t think about seatbelts, I had barely given Rowan enough time to close the door. Gravel flies as I slaw on the gas, Jane looking at me like a crazed woman, and in this moment, I was.

“John is still at the bunker, right? Has he been informed?” I asked. “Fuck, Randy is at the house. Was he the one that called? I hope he’s okay.” Jane hesitated, not saying a word. I looked at her, but the second our eyes met, she looked away. “Is he at the bunker, Jane?” I breathed out, panic rising in my chest from her silence.

“Wren—”

“Damn it, Jane, where the hell is my husband?” I snapped. “He went to the bunker like he had planned, right? He told me this morning that that’s what—”

“He never left.” She whispered, but it was as if she screamed it straight in my ear, a ring beginning to sound. “He stayed home, he wanted to make sure he was home so he would have time to surprise you with a date night. He…he insisted that he wouldn’t beat you home from the bunker.”

The sound that escapes my throat is strangled as I grip the steering wheel tighter, my foot pressing down a little more. Rowan clutches my shoulder. “John is surrounded by Chosen all the time, there are guards stationed at your home 24/7, Wren. I’m sure he’s fine.”

I tried the best I could, but I began to panic, on the verge of hyperventilating as my mind ran wild with the possibilities. Finally, I turned on our drive with Jane insisting I slowed down. I paid her no mind as I left a trail of dust behind us. My heart sank as we passed the YES sign, bullet holes and blood stains tainting the white paint. Jane squeezed the door handle as we came around the corner, slamming on the brakes and coming to a skid.

Jumping out, the breath escaped from my lungs completely. Blood, bodies, and chaos covered the lawn of my very home. I staggered, my hand over my mouth as I saw faces of my own loyal followers and people I had once helped, lifeless. A few more of our people milled around, trying to do what they could to clean up the devastation, but their faces were grim, heartbroken and mournful for the family members they had lost. I looked crazed as some newer members spoke to our Chosen, shaken and a bit hysterical, as they eyed me.

“Is that--”

“The Judge, his wife. You know Sister Wren, don’t you?”

“Does she know?”

There words barely register, and I rushed to the house, not caring for a second if Rowan and Jane were with me. The hairs on the back of my neck had stood on end as I ran. Randy was with John, John was safe. I repeated it tom myself over and over as I made it through the threshold. My legs push harder to get me up the stairs faster, and I stumble to a stop as I come to the top.

The door is barely open, just ajar enough for me to see the sunlight coming through. My heart hammers against my chest as I take a step forward. Normally, he would either keep it shut or decide to keep it open wide. I shouldn’t be this scared of a door, but I’m shaking. Suddenly I’m a heroine in one of those horror movies I force John to watch. We’ll both laugh at my comparison to Laurie from Halloween, and that’s the only comfort I can cling to in this moment.

“John?” I called, taking another step. “Baby, are you okay?” Nothing, but silence. My breath quickens even more. “This isn’t funny, you stubborn ass. Just please tell me you’re okay.”

I picked up the pace when I got no reply, a panicked sob choking me. “Please be okay. For the love of God, baby, be okay.” I shove the door open, looking and seeing nothing at first. But then I take it in, the messy desk, papers scattered, his laptop on the floor, and that’s when I finally find him.

I’m on my knees in seconds, my hands on his chest, as the tears pour. His eyes are closed, a tint to his cool skin that doesn’t settle well with me. He’s blue. He’s too fucking blue. “Baby, I’m here. I got you.” I cry harder when he doesn’t move. I barely notice the blood soaking through my jeans. I’m too busy shaking him. “John, wake up, I’m here. It’s okay.” I pull at his hand to place it against my face, but its cold and it won’t stay. My eyes squeeze shut as a painful wail finally escapes, all my feelings refusing to be bottled any longer.

I grab him, pulling him on my lap as I cradle his head, my lips pressed against his forehead as I cry. I rock back and forth, because I don’t know what else to do. The movement disturbed something in his other hand, drawing my attention. The frame was broken and the glass shattered, but our wedding picture was still in decent condition. My rocking increases as I sob harder. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!”

I squeeze him harder, willing him to open his eyes. To cough, and scoff, only to make a stupid remark that would only make me smack him on the arm. To snap at me to stop because I’m making him dizzy. But none of that comes and I hear a distant shrieking as my hand fists his hair, placing my forehead awkwardly against his. I hadn’t had the chance to tell him, he would never know that I was carrying our child. And I was alone. I would have to do this all alone, without my partner, my anchor. It was crushing, I could barely breathe. As the soreness in my throat builds, I realize that I had been the one shrieking. “You promised! You swore to me that you would never leave me!”

Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me back, but I only held on to my husband tighter. I couldn’t, wouldn’t, let go. But the person was stronger. And I turned as they ripped me away and swung blindly. Jacob dodged it with ease as I tried to pull away, only to slam my fists against his chest. He pulled me forward, engulfing me in a hug as I collapsed against him. “He’s gone, Jacob. He’s gone.”

“I know.” Jacob replied, his voice gruff. He didn’t say anything else, didn’t offer condolences, just stood there as I fell apart. I pulled away, glancing to see Rowan and Joseph there in the doorway, both silently crying. “Get her out of here, Ro.”

Rowan nodded, gently pulling on my arm. I followed, allowing her to pull me along. I was too numb, too out of it to protest. This wasn’t real. This didn’t feel real. I wanted nothing more than to just go back to this morning, laying in bed with him laying on top of me and snoring lightly. I would give anything to go back to two nights ago, to relive the fight we had. The way that he had slipped down the stairs to carry me up from the stairs because I was too stubborn to sleep in our room. I wanted his arms around me.

“I’ll get you some tea.” Rowan whispered as she helped me to couch. I say nothing in response, and she leaves.

I had been sitting there what felt like hours, a mug full of cold tea in my hands. I had only been sipping it here and there. They had already carried him out, plans on what to do next being thrown around. I couldn’t believe it, even as I sat covered in his blood. The sound of someone clearing their throat drew my attention to see Joseph standing next to the now lit fireplace. I couldn’t remember when that had happened.

“May I join you?” he asked softly. I just nodded aboundingly in response, still struggling with finding words. So, it’s silent for a while, until he decides to break the silence. “I’m sorry for your loss, Wren. This is hard on all of us.”

I sniffed, glancing down at my cup. “I wasn’t expecting this. I didn’t think for a second that they would attack here, because…”

“Because of you?”

I looked at him, his soft eyes meeting mine. “I still have some friends…they didn’t exactly understand, but they love me. I thought that they wouldn’t attack either of us because of me. It was so stupid, because I lived in my own world where I believed that we were untouchable because I was an ally at one point. But I was wrong. I was so wrong. And John paid the price for my pride.” My voice broke as my shoulders sagged.

“That wasn’t pride, Wren. You wanted, and wished, for a happy future for the both of you. There is nothing wrong with that.”

“I can’t do this without him, Joseph. I just can’t.” I sobbed.

He placed his hand on my shoulder. “It will hurt for a long time, I know. But you can—"

“I’m pregnant…I’m pregnant and John’s dead, Joseph. He’s gone, and I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Joseph hesitated, a bit shocked at the reveal, but brushed it off. “He left you everything, Wren. You and the child are well taken care of. It’s in his will—”

“I don’t give a fuck about his will or his money!” I shrieked, my eyes squeezed shut as a broken sob wracked my body. I want my husband!” I began to shake, my breath quick. “Who am I without him? What am I if I don’t have him? How the hell am I supposed to do this without my other half? I can’t do this alone!”

“You are not alone.” He replied softly with passion. “I know you’re not religious, and you don’t believe in what I preach. But you hold a pivotal role in our community, an example of strong faith and leadership that people follow. This community is your family, Wren. We are your family.” Joseph whispered, his voice softly giving way to that Georgia drawl he could sometimes hide.

“False faith? I’m pretty sure that’s a sin, Joseph.” I sound hollow, a shell of myself as the words tumble out. Words that was meant to be something like a joke coming across robotically and empty. All I could do was stare at my blood covered hands numbly.

“You had faith in John.” His name cuts deeply and its enough for my eyes to meet Joseph’s. Despite the fact that they were technically the same color, they were so different than John’s. A serene calm vs the playful mischief that my husband always portrayed. “The trust you had in him, the love you had for him, created a loyalty that spread and touched those he was loyal to, bringing you into a family that welcomed you with open arms, that still accepts and loves you. Your faith in him was enough for that. And he…he loved you more than he loved himself.” My face contorted, fresh tears following the trails of old ones as the pain throbbed. “That was something John struggled with every day. He would take, because he loved himself more than he loved others. And you saw that, didn’t you? The night you first met him.”

“The Cleansing.” I replied lowly and Joseph gave a single nod.

“That’s right. And it was your fear of him not being able to love you in return, not as you did him, that drove you two apart before. My brother John was loved by few and feared by many. He wasn’t always like that. When we were young, he was full of joy, easily preyed upon. He wanted to watch the world burn. And after he met you, after this started, John would have done it all for you if he had to. Because he finally understood what I meant. He loved you more than he loved anything.”

“Except you.”

Joseph hummed, closing his eyes momentarily. “Do you have any siblings, Wren?”

I knew he already knew the answer, but I appreciated that he was giving me the courtesy and respect to offer me the chance to tell him myself. “No.”

“Well, when you have siblings, there’s this…feeling. This bond that is interwoven in your very nature to protect and love them. Jacob knows that better than all of us. But it isn’t a bond or a love you choose.” Joseph placed his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “You are the bond, the love, he had chosen. You’re what kept him in the light. At the end, it wasn’t Eden’s Gate that gave him the redemption he longed for…it was you.”

My face contorted as my heart twisted painfully. “He didn’t always do good, but he loved me. He loved this family and his people. He learned to love, Joseph. And for this to happen to him…?”

“We can’t explain the bad that happens. Only fight it with love and faith.”

I scoff lightly, but Joseph doesn’t say anything. “How did it happen?” I whispered. “Nobody has told me.”

Joseph shifted, removing his hand as he looked down at his book. “Jacob believes it was a sniper. Someone came in, and John fought, but it was a sniper that…”

I swallowed, clenching my teeth as I glared tearfully at the flames. “Grace.” I hissed. He glanced back at me as I dug my nails into the meat of my thigh.

“What do you plan to do?”

I looked at him, the fire in my eyes burning as my mouth twisted in a sneer. “What I’m meant to do. I’m the Judge, Joseph. So that’s what I will do. I will Judge their actions accordingly. All their sins, their transgressions.”

“And then?”

“And then I will release every once of Wrath that I have left for what they’ve taken from me.” My voice is icy and dark, but I don’t care. “They will not be given forgiveness. They aren’t worthy of it. And they’re going to realize just what John’s death has cost them. And I will show no amount of mercy.”

[seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana]

(I didn’t tag you until the end but I’m gonna our the tag up here anyway @megatraven)

Blessed was how he felt the moment Zeus agreed to his pleas. He pleaded to Zeus that he could let MC live her life out and then let him find Hera.

He threw out so many favors, spent so many nights up wondering what to do, and panicking just so he could save her. He couldn’t lose her, he just couldn’t. It wasn’t just because he loved her. He always remembered his friendship and bond with his loves mother, and he wouldn’t forgive himself if he let her down again. So, he did everything he could and eventually it worked. He noticed Zeus look of anger but tiredness from hearing Hades repeat himself. However, Hades didn’t care. As long as he had MC alive, he was okay.

But he knew that time would come. She didn’t become a goddess, so she wouldn’t live forever, and he knew it. He knew her clock was ticking everytime he woke up and saw her smiling at him. However, he ignored it. He enjoyed everytime he saw her smile, everytime she laughed, everytime he saw her sleep and just breathe, everytime he saw her eyes glow everytime she was happy, the way freckles framed her face and body as it she was a goddess, and the way their were lines on her cheeks when she smiled so hard.

Zeus wasn’t fond of her, but he eventually grew okay with her presence. Poseidon was like he was during the whole marriage problems. He was supportive and cared for MC and Hades. Obviously, everyone felt tense because of her, but Aphrodite and Hades would give people the death glare if they dared to harm her or say anything about her. MC continued to live on the surface and Hades joined her. They would switch back and forth, but it was what they were good with. Hades would do anything for her and she would do anything for him. That was obvious during the whole marriage problems.

Depsite all the sad things, MC gave birth to a child named Osiris. He was a Demi-god but Hades and MC loved him all the same. Osiris’s birth made Hades the happiest god there ever was, but also brought a pang of sadness in his heart when he saw MC holding their child, rocking him when he was fussy and making funny faces at him to calm him down. It hurt because he knew Osiris would live longer than his own mother. He knew he would have to watch his mother become weaker and weaker while his father stayed the same all the years. It hurt, but he and MC both avoided those thoughts and raised Osiris with the most love and protection.

But over time her hair became grayer, even if she dyed it to prevent people from noticing it, it would show sometimes. Her face became a little more wrinkly over time, and eventually she didn’t want to show her face on Olympus anymore. She didn’t want people to see her growing old while everyone looked perfect and so young. Hades supported her and let her deal with it how she wanted it, but she was still so beautiful in his eyes. She was still his personal goddess, she was still the most beautiful woman in his eyes. He cared for her and so did Osiris through her years. And he knew it was against his own rules, but he didn’t let Death take her yet. He ignored the way the Underworld was calling her. He prevented it, he and Osiris just couldn’t let go yet. He felt a little bit guilty because of it, but it’s like he said all those years ago...

Gods are selfish...

But one day he woke up and saw MC beside him, but he felt it. The calling was too strong, her soul was barely hanging on. She woke up and smiled at him, but it was pained. He knows she can feel it too. He couldn’t help the tears that fell from his eyes in that moment. The sun was shining through the windows, onto her hair making it glow that even angels were envious of. He knew he couldn’t keep her here any longer, she was in pain from her body slowly shutting down. Death was inevitable and he knew it.

“I love you, don’t forget that,” she whispered to him as she scooted closer to him. He nodded and looked in her eyes as she wiped the tears off his face. “Don’t cry. I’ll see you soon. And tell Osiris that I’m sorry and that I love him with my whole heart,” she whispered to him as well, her voice slowly getting softer. She was rushing her words out. “Tell Alex and Aphrodite that I’ll miss them as well,” she said her voice going so soft he had to almost quit breathing to hear her. He nodded and promised her he’d do everything she told him to do, and it was true.

He smiled at her and stroked her cheek and tried to comfort her during her last moments. “But hey, tell your mom I said hi,” he whispered out to her, his voice wrecked with sadness unexplainable. She let out a laugh that ended with a coughing pit. “I will. I’m excited to see her,” she whispered to him. He knew she didn’t want to die, but she couldn’t help that feeling of wanting to see her mother. He kissed her forehead and held her hand tightly. She kissed him on his lips one last time, before she closed her eyes and he felt her soul leave her body and enter the Underworld. He held her close, resting her forehead on his shoulder and cried as he stroked his hands through her hair, as if she was still there.

He gave her a hero burial, and this time he did cry. He couldn’t hold it back. He buried her right next to her mother, the way she’d want it to be. Aphrodite and Alex cried, and she wasn’t the only mortal buried there. Her brother, Josh, was buried there as well. Now, the family was reunited and he hoped they were at peace.

Almost the next month after her death, here he was, standing in the Underworld, getting ready to draw on his powers and call to her soul. He knew he was breaking his rules, he knew he was doing something so selfish, but he couldn’t help it. He missed the love of his life and he needed to see her. He needed to see her smile, he needed to hear her voice and the way she would say, “hey, its okay.” He closed his eyes and called upon his powers. Before he could even open his eyes, he heard her. “Hey, sweetie.” He opened his eyes and saw her, the 25 year old he fell in love with. He didn’t care what age he saw of her, he was just happy to see her.

“MC...” he whispered out. She smiled at him and he saw tears fall down her cheeks. He stepped forward and reached his hand out to try and caress her cheek. It hurt him when his hand went right through her cheek. However, he placed it hovering near her cheek and she leaned into it as if she could feel it, as if she could feel the warmth of his hand touching her cold cheek. “I miss you. I miss you so much,” he told her with his voice being a struggle to even get out. She nodded as well and sniffled. “I miss you, too. But I’m always there, don’t forget that. Me, my mom, and Josh are always there watching over you and everyone we love,” her voice eventually got interrupted by her sobs.

She was happy, but she was also sad. Happy because she could see her love look at her like she was his world and hear his voice comfort her. But was sad because she knew she wouldn’t be able to hear it for a long time. “I’ll see you soon, I promise. We’ll all see you again,” she told him, wiping her eyes to stop the tears. She then did the same thing he did. She reached out with her hand to try and dry his tears, but it didn’t work. He wiped his eyes for her and he smiled at her one more time, before he heard a voice call out, “MC?” It was the voice of one of his best friends. More tears almost fell from his eyes, but he refused. “I have to go,” she said with a sadness so obvious. He nodded and leaned in to kiss her forehead, but not actually touch her since he would pass right through her, but he couldn’t help but try for his and her sake.

“But if you ever do this again, can I see Osiris?” She wanted to see Alex as well, but she didn’t push it. She knew he was already risking everything by doing this. He nodded with a sad smile. “He misses you just as much as I do.” She smiled once more, already knowing he did. “Mom hopes to meet him one day.” Hades looked her in the eye and promise her that she would. He’d make sure of it. He’d make sure that her mom, Josh, and herself would be all together again one day. After a few more minutes of catching up, that voice called out again and he had to let MC join her family once more.

It was difficult for him, but he brought Osiris to her and it was so emotional all over again. Osiris and his wife and children were so sad and emotional to see their grandmother and great grandmother that they they miss so much. However, they knew it would be the last time they would see her for a long time, but they were okay with that. They’d all wait as long as it took to see her and her mom and her brother all again.

It took around 20 long years of loneliness and pain for Hades to wake up one day and feel MCs mom soul come back. He knew it was hers by the ways his own soul felt a bit lighter, but not the way MCs would make him feel. He immediately told Aphrodite, Alex, Osiris, and his children. He was in tears the whole time, so happy to see his best friend again and to know that his love and her brother were on their way soon.

For the first time in a long time, his soul felt truly bright and he felt so happy every morning he woke up. He woke up with a smile because he knew her see we again one day, and he was perfectly fine with waiting. She was the love of his life and he’d wait as long as it took for her, and there was no doubt about it.

SO @megatraven I LITERALLY HAD TO TAKE LIKE 5 CRYING BREAKS BC THIS HURT SO MUCH, BUT I THINK ITS GOOD?? It’s really long and I’m not on my laptop (almost never am on tumblr on my laptop) so I can’t do the “read more” thing so I hope you read it all so I can sleep getting feed back and know if you cried like I cried >:). But yeah I hope you and everyone else enjoyed crying with me lol. I finally have Hades angst and not just Alex angst wowh I’m proud of myself lol. But yh bye unless you reblog with a response enensn

[meghanayar]

How CoVID-19 legitimised my greatest obsession

Last year, after a prolonged period of compulsive hand-washing, I walked into my dermatologist’s clinic with an itchy red rash all over my hands. Mercifully, the rash had limited itself to the back of my palms – it hadn’t spread beyond my wrists. It was painful nevertheless, and my incessant trips to the wash basin were making it even worse.

The dermatologist, who is familiar with my skin-abuse shenanigans, took one look at the abstract art of my making and asked me, “How many times do you wash your hands with soap every day?”

It took me a whole minute of kindergarten-style finger counting to reach a figure. “About 18 to 20 times a day,” I ventured nervously.

She sighed in Dolby digital and shot me the look of a disappointed parent. “You have been torturing your poor hands,” she admonished me. “Which sane person does this? I am a doctor who deals with infections all day and even I don’t wash my hands so often!”

I gulped. I had known all along that my hand-washing was on the excessive side, bordering on maniacal. But I hadn’t anticipated that it would lead to dermatitis i.e. an actual skin ailment that requires medication to heal, not to mention enormous reserves of self-control.

I stepped out of the clinic with the guilt of an alcoholic. As instructed by the doctor, I picked up a huge-ass bottle of Cetaphil hand wash on the way home. The gratuitous soaping and foaming had to stop. It was rehab time.

Alas, this was easier said than done.

Cetaphil is, for all practical purposes, a poor step-sister of soap. It may be well-intentioned and gentle as a mother’s touch but it simply refuses to lather. No matter how much of it I poured onto my hands, it always left me feeling unaccomplished. If washing hands was my orgasm, I was pulling out too soon. It always left much to be desired.

Six months of hard work later, I had almost made truce with my OCD demons. I still hated my soulless saviour but continued to use it nevertheless. Soap had been minimised, sanitizers banished. With a little help from an imported hand cream that costs two and a half kidneys and contains organic shea butter mixed with the soul of a 14th-century saint, I had succeeded in keeping the dermatitis from making a return visit.

But, but, but – guess what was fated to happen just as I was learning to make peace with my wash-time nemesis? The coronavirus outbreak.

That’s right. There is a potent virus in the air now, people are rushing to make their wills, supermarkets have run out of toilet paper, and it is suddenly okay to soap away to glory.

After spending six months trying to break my cray-cray habit of turning my hands into sandpaper, I am now told that I can happily revert to my masochistic ways. Wash your hands with soap, often and thoroughly, says the PSA pasted outside my dermatologist’s clinic – the same dermatologist who had warned me that my skin would peel away if I did not stop tormenting it with antibacterial concoctions.

Life has taken a U-turn.

For years now, I have suffered from an overwhelming urge to wash my hands at the smallest pretext. Dumped a day-old laundry in the machine? Wash hands. Touched an elevator grill? Wash hands. Picked up a pair of (clean) socks? Wash hands. Touched my scalp? A currency note? The laptop keypad? The screen of my phone? Wash hands.

I generally wash my hands before dinner, and after dinner, and then again after cleaning the kitchen slab, and then one last time after dumping the dishes in the sink. If a stroke of bad luck (such as our domestic help Sakubai’s quarterly home trip) requires me to do the dishes, add in another couple of rounds of hand washing. Add to this the monthly annoyance of my period or seasonal troubles such as the flu and you have a frenzied woman who’ll spend half her waking hours rigorously disinfecting her palms.

I have always been aware that though this affliction of mine sounds amusing to hear of, it has the potential to snowball into a chronic disorder and reduce me to dysfunction. I have read accounts of people grappling with extreme OCD who find it impossible to conduct even the most mundane tasks without sanitizing and re-sanitizing their environs. I have always feared that if my reflexes are not consciously rewired, I might end up just like them.

And this fear was exactly the reason why I worked diligently over six months to tackle my misophobia. Because, what if I eventually morphed into a female Sheldon Cooper? What if being a germaphobe led me to fixing a ‘spot’ on the couch, or eating spaghetti every Thursday for the rest of my life, or worse still, creating bowel movement schedules? Holy crap on a cracker, I did not want to become that person.

So here I am now, freshly reformed. But in a curious twist of fate, I am now being encouraged to walk right back into my addiction.

All around me, I see people feverishly rubbing their palms with scented alcohol. My neighbours are moving around in N95 masks. The soap dispenser in our bathroom is perpetually in need of a refill. Even the security guard downstairs, who used to make a trip to the toilet and back in three minutes flat, now takes a good quarter of an hour.

Where does this leave me? Had I been the old me, I might have ripped the skin off my bones by now. But in my born-again avatar, I am no longer paranoid like I used to be. I still wash my hands more often than the average person does, but I am no longer precariously close to sanitary insanity.

It is difficult to predict how the CoVID-19 situation is likely to evolve in India in the coming weeks. But if the rate at which cases are presently mounting is any indication, things are likely to hit their peak in a matter of days. John Keynes did mention that in the long run we are all dead, but did he define exactly how long the run was going to be? For all we know, the run has run its course and we are about to be clean-bowled.

Given how uncertain our future is, just how much sense would it make to resist soapy temptations at this juncture? Should I maintain my newfound resist-dermatitis-till-I-die stance when I may actually die of resisting dermatitis? Wouldn’t it be more prudent to surrender to the lure of foam and froth if that is more likely to keep me alive, itchy blisters notwithstanding?

I have been mulling over this predicament for a bit, and have finally come to the conclusion that if my life risks being truncated by a rogue virus, abstinence is pointless. What use are pretty hands on a dead woman? If I am to die soon, I would rather soak in the soapgasms while I can.

Throwing caution to the virus-infested wind, I enter the bathroom now. I see the soap dispenser winking at me, turning me on harder than a porn star would an incel. Cetaphil is sulking from a distance but I ignore its death stare. I walk up to the basin, reach out for the soap – 100% chemical-laced, with all the sulfates and parabens in the world – and press hard, rubbing my hands in unrestrained glee.

My palms are soon covered with a familiar foam that my senses have long been lusting for. A feeling of total satiation takes over my senses, combined with a heady sense of release relief. I haven’t felt this excited disinfected in months.

As the great Rumi once said:

I’ll submit happily to the dance of death, I don’t want a second chance.

But while we wait for the end of the world, please let me wash my hands.

[eddieeatsass]

4 & 20 (pun for sure not intended)

Soulmates + Accidental Texting/Sexting from this prompt list. I picked Reddie, hope that’s okay! (This also sort of turned into a bit of a Coffee Shop AU by accident but not fully because neither of them work there.)

A soulmate bond; something everyone hoped to feel, but only a select few got to experience in this world. You may have heard of someone’s parents having a soulmate bond, or read about a couple in another country who’s bond lead them to one another, but to get your hopes up that it’d happen to you was a recipe for disappointment.

They taught about it in school as part of the sex-ed curriculum, explained all of the signs and how ‘you’ll know if you’ve found the one’. But along with that discussion came the history of the bond, which included the conversation about its dwindling over the decades. Now, only 1 in 1000 people were said to experience the bond, and that statistic was a few years old itself.

Eddie had never believed he was destined for the bond. It only happened to special people, people who deserved it, people who the universe deigned worthy. And Eddie was just Eddie.

So you can imagine his disbelief and borderline hysteria when he began feeling tingles in his spine one afternoon.

He was sitting at a coffee shop when it began. At first, Eddie wrote it off as his back going numb due to bad posture. The hours hunched over his laptop furiously writing paper after paper probably didn’t help. He straightened himself up, stretching his legs out beneath the tiny table and did a few subtle neck stretches.

The tingles seemed to go away, but only to make room for the next onset of symptoms. A noise similar to wind chimes seemed to trickle into his ears. He looked around, confused as to where the noise was coming from, but didn’t find a source. He shook his head and the sound faded away.

In the back of Eddie’s mind he was putting the pieces together, but he refused to believe what was happening. These were just coincidences; there was no way he was- he’d found his- no. It didn’t exist. Not for him.

As he began packing up his stuff, his hands hurriedly shoving things into his messenger bag, he was hit with an overwhelmingly sweet aroma. It smelled... almost indescribable. It certainly wasn’t comparable to anything Eddie had ever smelled before.

It was intoxicating, almost materializing into thin air like a cartoon, carrying Eddie towards it like he was no longer in control of his feet. He found himself standing in line behind a taller man who was just finishing up his order. Eddie eagerly peeked around him in search for what may be emitting that wonderful scent. It must be something from the bakery in the back, or a drink the baristas were making, or-

“Sorry, uh, at the risk of sounding totally creepy, you smell fucking amazing. What cologne are you wearing?”

Eddie blinked up at the man in front of him, who had turned around and was now addressing him. What had he said? The wind chimes were back. His back was buzzing. The smell intensifying.

“I... what?” Eddie asked dumbly.

“Your cologne, I have to know what it is so I can buy some.”

“I... don’t wear cologne.” Eddie said slowly.

Confusion seemed to cross the other man’s face before it fell. He cleared his throat, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

“Do you hear those wind chimes?” The man asked calculatingly.

Relief flooded Eddie. Okay, so he wasn’t going crazy, he wasn’t experiencing the bond, this man also heard the wind chimes!

“Yeah, what’s up with that? Why did they set up wind chimes in a coffee shop?”

The man stared at Eddie for a few moments before stepping closer, reaching around Eddie and placing a hand on the small of his back. The move was incredibly intimate, totally inappropriate for two strangers who had just met, but somehow it felt electrifying instead of boundary breaking.

“Does your back hurt?” He asked lowly, putting pressure where his hand rested.

“Uh, yeah, a little. More like-”

“Tingles.” The man supplied.

Eddie swallowed, his pulse quickening.

“Are we...” Eddie left the question open ended, half hoping he was wrong.

“I think so.”

And just like that, Eddie’s world began blurring. The wind chimes in his ears were replaced with buzzing and his vision began speckling like TV static. He wavered on his feet before he registered a distant feeling of arms holding him up.

When his brain caught back up with him, he was sitting at his table once again, leaning heavily against another body.

“Hey bud, you back with us yet?” A voice asked.

“What? What happened?” Eddie asked, blinking away bleary eyes and taking in the new setting.

“You fell for me.”

Eddie turned his head to see the man from earlier wearing a grossly charming grin. He had to school his features to not let his own amusement at the man’s comment show.

“Well, you actually started passing out, but I like my version better.”

Eddie nodded slowly. He wanted to say something but he couldn’t think of anything that felt worthy enough. If this was really happening, then this was a monumental moment. He couldn’t waste their first few exchanges on something so mundane.

Luckily, the man seemed to have no qualms about speaking. In fact, he hadn’t stopped speaking, Eddie realized. He’d zoned out in his own thoughts and had missed a large chunk of conversation; conversation that, seemingly, had resulted in the man holding Eddie’s phone?

“Hey, wait- What are you doing?” Eddie asked, reaching for his phone in a panic.

“I’m adding my number to your phone.” The man said nonchalantly, un-moving.

Eddie’s heart did a little skip when the man passed his phone back, contacts open to a new addition.

“Richie Tozier.” Eddie read aloud, trying out the name on his tongue.

Eddie heard Richie’s name echoed in the shop, their heads both turning towards the barista who was holding out Richie’s drink.

“Sorry, gimme a sec.” Richie excused himself, taking his drink from the barista with a kind smile and walking towards the cream and sugar counter.

Eddie immediately used the time alone to text Beverly. The text turned out to be mostly gibberish, excited fingers making more typos than Eddie would normally let slide, but the gist of it still got across; Eddie had a soulmate, he just met said soulmate, and said soulmate is HOT.

He got a response almost immediately.

You’re not too bad yourself, cutie.

Eddie stared back down at his phone until realization dawned on him. He hadn’t texted Beverly, he’d accidentally texted Richie, who’s eyes he could now feel boring into him from across the room. Eddie’s face was on fire, his body refusing to move as he felt Richie’s presence return.

“So do I get a name or should I just keep calling you cutie?”

“Eddie. Kaspbrak. EddieKaspbrak.” Eddie stuttered out.

Richie took a sip of his drink, letting his eyes look Eddie up and down as he fidgeted under the gaze.

“Eddie and Richie. I like it.” Richie decided aloud.

Eddie’s responding grin was blinding, so much so that he almost didn’t notice the equally blinding grin he got from Richie.

“So, EddieKaspbrak,” Richie said, rushing through Eddie’s name like he himself had moments ago, eliciting a small bashful chuckle from the smaller man. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

Eddie nodded, a blush covering his freckled cheeks as he responded.

“I’ve been waiting my whole life to hear you say that.”

[vulpinmusings]

Ski’tar and Friends part 20: Show Stoppers of Songbird

This week, Ski’tar, Vemir, and 6 attend the biggest concert event of the year.

Part one Previously Archive

Following our mission to Apostae, we took a couple of days to rest and restock. Vemir decided to get a prosthetic arm to replace the one he’d been missing since before we first met.  As he was showing it off to us, we received a rare surprise: actual physical mail.  There was an envelope of each of us, and inside were invitations to join Zigvigix in attending a Strawberry Machine-cake concert, one of the biggest entertainment events of the Pact-year.  Since it would be a nice change of pace, and because Vemir is a massive closeted fan of the band (he was trying too hard not to look interested through the whole event), we decided to accept the offer.

Our hopes for a relaxing day of no trouble were dashed the morning of the concert, when Historia-7 commed us for a last-minute mission.  By happenstance, Historia had tracked one of the mystery people hiding behind Arch-energy Consortium to a private villa attached to Songbird Station, the very venue where SMC was performing.  Since Vemir, 6, and I were going to be in the area anyway, Hisroria wanted us to hunt down the man and grill him for everything he knows, and to do so without letting Ziggy know about it.  It seems our Shirren friend’s depression over the Scored Stars incident has interacted poorly with some augments he has and put him at a high risk for a stroke if he were to get too stressed by, say, his favorite band’s concert being ruined by shenanigans.

I was very close to refusing to work on a “vacation,” but my friends just agreed to the task and I wasn’t about to leave them hanging.

Songbird Station is built out of an asteroid and probably had a past life as some sort of temple, given the slap-dash way the technology was set up behind the scenes.  But I’m getting ahead of myself.  As our shuttle was making its final approach, Ziggy showed us a hologram of the friends he’d lost at Scored Stars and revealed his desire to ask Strawberry Machine-cake to put on a public tribute of sorts for them after the show.

The lobby was packed with beings of all descriptions, creating a living sea of pink and red, loud music, and spontaneous dance parties. After making sure Ziggy was properly distracted by the fan activities, 6, Vemir, and I held a quick conference to decide how to go about locating our target, Lansio.  I hacked a computer to see if he was on some sort of guest list, but came up empty, so we tried to find someone official-looking to ask.  We chose a harried-looking security guard who was posted by the door to the maintenance and station power area, but as we tried to make our way over we got caught up in a dance mob. Well, 6 and I got caught in it.  In the name of maintaining cover, we bowed to the mob’s pressure and danced for a bit.  Well, 6 danced and won himself a t-shirt. I tripped over myself.

You’d think an Ysoki would be more naturally agile than an android…

There was another momentary detour as I bumped into a tele-view done with a misaligned balance gyro and felt compelled to fix it for the sake of the Ysoki using it to attend the concert remotely.  He transferred me some credits for my trouble, so that was a nice bonus.

We reached the security guard as he was arguing with a couple of lashunta about needing to apply pacification mods to their weapons. When the lashunta left, Vemir went up and offered up his sniper rifle for pacification, and 6 and I followed suit with Sixer’s sword and my laspistol.  Having thus charmed our way into the guard’s good graces, we asked him if he knew Lansio.  He told us Lansio had a villa in the residential section, but didn’t know if he was home.

Right then, the power went out for a couple seconds.  When asked, the guard told us that had been happening intermittently in the last few hours and no technicians had gone to check on it yet.  Concerned about Ziggy���s health and remembering a similar problem from Elytrio, I convinced the guard to let us into the maintenance area to check the station’s power generator.

After heading through a hallway thick with wires that had been strung onto the walls and ceiling, we entered the reactor room to find three strange, pale figures that were glowing and seemed to have only a passing familiarity with the concept of materiality.  For lack of a better identifier, I termed them “Gremlins” for their child-like but innately destructive nature.  They were clustered around the reactor, chattering among themselves, until 6 got their attention. They spoke of the reactor as if it were an egg about to hatch, and then one of them came up and poked me.  Its finger phased into my chest and I felt something in me change in a most unpleasant way.

I flipped out and shot the gremlin.  While my laspistol had been pacified, it still somehow set the thing on fire.  It laughed as if being tickled, and its two buddies started to advance on Sixer and Vemir, curious what would happen if they got touched.

We weren’t going to have any of that, of course, but defending ourselves proved difficult because the gremlins kept phasing through things and easily reforming from being sliced or shot through. Toosie managed to hold the first Gremlin’s attention away from me and whatever had changed in me decided to pop out and off me, but Vemir got mutated twice – first with some kind of external and very stinky gland and later with a second set of eyes – and Sixer’s hand was changed into a bio-mechanical claw.  The scuffle only ended when one of the Gremlins got the idea of jumping into the reactor and 6 seized the controls to keep the power stable.  That gremlin wound up evaporating, and the other two quickly surrendered when I told Toosie to try dragging one of them to the reactor.

The gremlins promised to stop playing around, but said the reactor had already been messed with by someone else and was building up to something.  I took over the controls from 6 and took a look at the code.  I found a foreign algorithm, but I couldn’t make much sense of it because it involved a lot of magic.  What I did manage to decipher revealed a process to vent the atmosphere out of the villa owned by Lansio.

Vemir cut the stinky gland off of himself, but couldn’t do anything about his new eyes despite them being so light-sensitive that he was effectively blind.  We guided him back out to the lobby and over to the gift-shop area to buy a bandanna to cover the eyes.  We then forded the sea of fans to reach the entrance to the private villa section.  Vemir had to shove off an over-enthusiastic collector of SMC merch and I was waylaid by another dance mob and, rather make a further fool of myself, I had Toosie bull through the crowd so I could continue walking.  Somebody found that to be a crime worthy of throwing a full can of soda at my head, but I shrugged it off.  Vemir then wound up playing taxi for three little snake-like girls for a bit and earned a crystal headdress for his trouble.

The door to the villa area was only blocked by a simple rope and nobody that we passed inside gave us more than a brief glance, so we had no trouble getting to Lansio’s address. Nobody answered my polite knock, but Vemir heard frantic movement inside, so we invited ourselves in.

Lansio was working hurriedly at a laptop, so 6 rushed up and threw him against the wall.  I moved up in the android’s wake and checked the computer, quickly determining that it had been rigged to explode.  As Toosie and Vemir came in and took up positions, an attack drone like the ones we’d fought and obtained from the bad weapons deal emerged from a hidden spot in the wall.

Lansio drew a cane-sword and tried to attack me, but I blocked the blow with my prosthetic arm and decided to take the laptop to a less busy part of the villa to disarm it.  Toosie and 6 busied themselves trying to subdue Lansio and get the wrist-watch I would need to finish my work, while Vemir tore the attack drone apart with his retractable wrist-spike.  In short order, Toosie got the watch for me, the drone was disabled, and 6 had thrown Lansio out the back door.  I disarmed the laptop’s explosive countermeasures, but the data it held had already been wiped.

6 started to drag Lansio back inside for questioning, until I reminded him that the place might still lose atmosphere at any moment.  Vemir handled most of the interrogation.  Lansio didn’t know anything about the malicious code and the only name he had for his boss was “the Benefactor,” but it was at least something.

We debated a bit about what to do with Lansio, weighing the risks of leaving him to alert his compatriots to what had occurred against the difficulty of getting him back to the Society without tipping Ziggy off to our mission.  Finally, we decided to kick the problem upstairs into Historia’s lap.  After we filled her in, she said she had some strings she could pull to have station security handle Lansio for us.  She also told us that the malcious magic-code had a degree of artificial intelligence and was trying to escape into the info-sphere.  It was currently contained inside the holographic projectors being used for Strawberry Machine-cake’s show, and so long as it was there we would be able to “kill” it by destroying the hologram that it would inhabit.

We rushed back to the theater area and used out Starfinder credentials to get backstage in the hopes of being able to deal with the evil hologram before the show began.  Unfortunately, according the band manager, there simply wasn’t time for that and the show simply could not be delayed.  Our only option was to battle the hologram on-stage as a pre-show performance, with SMC providing a musical back-drop.

It was the coliseum of Brilliance Station all over again, but there was no other option, so I accepted the holo-costume projectors given to me and walked out with Vemir and 6 to hopefully not make a complete fool of myself.  

The malicious code decided to take the form of a giant pink robot armed with a plasma sword and large rifle.  When the music started up, the thing struck a pose before engaging us, which was a nice touch.

I opened with a couple of grenades that bounced off and exploded harmlessly, while 6 landed a good shot with his frostbite rifle and Vemir sniped it in the head.  The hologram-bot reeled to the beat before momentarily shifting into a tank-like form and unleashing a shockwave of electricity that knocked Toosie over.

As my drone picked itself, up, Vemir and I moved to flank the bot while 6 hacked at it with his sword and got smacked by the large plasma sword in response.  Toosie and 6 then hacked at the bot’s feet until it fell to its knees, and Vemir blasted it with his arc pistol, to great effect.

In a desperate position, the hologram raised its rifle and fired in an arc that hit everyone but me, and the Vemir took it out with another arc pistol shot to the head.  The hologram exploded in a shower of sparks and a wave of electricity, and the lights went down as the music stopped.

After a moment to raise the audience’s tension, the lights came back up to reveal a large holographic image of Zigvigix’s lost friends, and Strawberry Machine-cake’s lead, Captain Carmine, came out to deliver a moving tribute to those Starfinders lost to Scored Stars. At this point, I figured that Historia had pulled a few more strings than she’d implied to us, for the sake of Ziggy.

Vemir, 6, and I were given an unprompted moment to say something, which we muddled through, and then we quickly got off the stage so the actual show could go on.

We made our way into the audience to join Zigvigix, gave him some vague explanations, and finally got to enjoy the show.

Afterward, the band gave us some of their merchandise along with some actually useful gifts.  We had to fend off some reporters looking for details of what had happened before we could get onto out shuttle and return to Absalom Station.

I complained a lot throughout this adventure, but looking back on it now, it wasn’t really that much of a headache.  At least, after putting aside the mutations caused by those gremlins.

[dorkyungsoowrites]

Spontaneous Attraction Ch. 30

Pairings: Kyungsoo x You

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut | Ambiguous AU

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.4k

Description: Kyungsoo finds the perfectly imperfect time.

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 |

It was three days early, but that was okay. Kyungsoo had been working almost non-stop for weeks and you were eager to do something special for him. When he called saying his last schedule for the day was canceled you couldn't wait for your anniversary to come. He was going to come home early and be pampered. You were determined. First you cleaned everything in the apartment, and then yourself. Putting on your newly bought black lingerie and an oversized white sweater; knowing he loved the tease of skin. You admired how your legs looked in the stockings, the garter straps barely visible, and contemplated wearing heels, but ultimately it seemed pointless so you remained comfortable.

Next was dinner. Kyungsoo had taught you how to use an oven properly so you would utilize this new skill by roasting potatoes. You saw a cooking show where they used salt, pepper, parsley, basil, paprika and olive oil to flavor the slices they cut so you decided to do that. Staring holes into a recipe for the sausage dish that would go with it as you cooked. Hyper focused on getting every measurement and cooking time right. It was taking you twice as long as it should have to cut the vegetables. Kyungsoo would return soon. So you decided you could set up a nice bath for him to relax in while you finished dinner. It would help with his muscle ache from dancing and he rarely treated himself. Lighting a few candles around the edge and putting his favorite scented soap nearby to add to the water. You put your laptop on the sink so he could choose some music to play.

Then a thought occurred to you. This would check off an item on your list of things to do together if you were to join him. You could at least give him the option. This was a night for whatever he wanted after all. When you went to get the paper from your dresser, however, it was missing. Thus your search began. It didn't just evaporate. You went through the bookshelf first, then around the living room and kitchen. Still nowhere. So you checked the pockets in both of your coats. Nothing. The only place left to search was the bathroom, and since you knew it wasn't in your drawer of stuff you opened Kyungsoo's.

"Aha!" There it was. Perfectly folded into a tiny square next to his comb. You picked it up and shut the drawer. Opening up the paper. Right as you did the front door opened and closed. Kyungsoo called your name. After a moment you heard his footsteps coming closer.

"Why was the stove on without any food in the pan?" You couldn't respond. You were paralyzed by the words on the page. Because under everything there was a new line. Under the hundred things both crossed off and waiting to be done, written in perfect black ink. Kyungsoo had added one more thing to do. He appeared with wide eyes in the doorway to the bathroom. You looked up at him, mouth struggling to form words. Suddenly he lunged forward. It wasn't for the paper, however. He squeezed past you in the small bathroom, rushing for the bathtub. Profanities spilling from his lips. As your eyes followed him your entire body tensed.

The shower curtain had caught fire. You placed one of the candles too close and now bright orange flames were licking up the edge of the fabric. The curtain was perfect fuel. You felt useless as Kyungsoo yanked the cloth off its hooks and threw it in the tub. Doing his best to have as little contact with the burning thing as possible. He turned on the water, the shower head raining, panting as the flames died down. He had caught it early. Small wifts of smoke drifted up as the quarter blackened ash of what used to be your shower curtain was revealed. You inched closer warily. Trying to get a better look at the damage. Kyungsoo whipped around then, grabbing your shoulders. Glaring harshly at you, mouth opening to scold you. You flinched and prepared, but his words were lost somewhere. His eyes darted from your face to the paper you still clutched in your shaking hands then back to you. His glare softened. Unfurrowing his eyebrows. Licking his lips. His attention fixed on you with stars in his eyes. He looked...inspired. Enchanted. Then he breathed two little words and your blood turned to rocket fuel in your veins.

"Marry me."

Those two simple words turned your whole world upside down. Marry...marry Kyungsoo? The man in front of you? With his big eyes and uneven breaths. With his nerves tightening his fingers on your shoulders. The man who stole the covers on the bed during cold nights. The man who was hardly home except to sleep a lot of the time. The one who got upset when you ruined "his kitchen" trying to cook. Who eats your leftovers without asking. Who leaves hair on the sink after he shaves. The man who always pulls you closer when you sit together. Who turns innocent cuddling during movies into steamy kisses with his hand down your pants or up your shirt. The man that always kisses you after sex. Who holds you when you're anxious and refuses to leave your side until you calm down. Who does what you need before you even know you need it yourself. The man who grew past his trust issues so he could love you whole-heartedly. Your best friend. The person you couldn't imagine your life without. You could only respond one way.

"What?" You were doe-eyed and slow to catch up to your racing thoughts. Kyungsoo lost part of his confidence. Repeating himself in the form of a question. Like he was worried he didn't do it right the first time.

"Please marry me?" You didn't have a chance to answer. His pre-prepared speech rambling off his tongue as if you'd refuse if he didn't say these words first. "I knew I wanted to marry you years ago. When we moved in together on our first anniversary and you were complaining about your cd's not being organized. It was so mundane and normal, but it was so you a-and I just...knew. No matter what happens it'll be okay, because I will always love you. I've never been good at this; loving openly." One of Kyungsoo's hands slid up to the side of your face. His dark brown eyes starting to shimmer with building tears. Voice tight. "But I've always known I was meant to love you for the rest of my life." Your emotions lodged in your throat. Finding it hard to hold back your own tears. The corners of his mouth fought to keep from grinning so wide his face would crack. Twitching and tightening in that adorable way you admired whenever he got bashful. "You once said you'd prove I'm the only one you want to be with however many times it took. Now it's my turn. I will choose you. With every morning waking up beside you. With every minute I'm away. With every touch and 'I love you'. With every breath. I will always choose you. I know...usually the speech comes before the question..." You both chuckled faintly. When you blinked a tear fell out and he brushed it away with his thumb. "But you did promise I would be part of one of your stories where something catches on fire." You choked out a laugh and rolled your eyes, smiling.

"So that's why this moment is perfect? I almost burned down the apartment?"

"Things kept getting in the way before." It was so absurd, his reasoning. So much like Kyungsoo's thinking. It was perfect. You wrapped your arms around his neck and crashed your lips to his. Feeling them give as his eyes slid closed and his other hand went around your waist on your back. Holding you closer. You barely broke from his mouth. Only enough to speak.

"I love you." Another kiss. "I love you so much. Yes." Another.

"Yes?" Kyungsoo opened his eyes to stare at you in wonder. Wet streaks on his cheeks from where his emotions had spilled over. Past the exhaustion and past the stress you saw his nerves begin to shift and calm. Face glowing. One last affirmation and it was done. He could cross off the last line on the paper scrunched in your hand. You would have a new vow attributed to your promise ring. You'd be with your best friend forever. A new adventure. A new beginning. With infinite more stories to tell. You couldn't be happier.

"Yes."

[unsp0ken-details]

Moments to Cherish (2)

"Its so funny how so much of 'Finding Yourself' in adulthood is simply getting back to who you were and what you loved as a child" I've often thought about this and a part of me believes in this. As one grows over the years, we are exposed to more complex truths of lives, newer experiences, and live in the 'grey' - we go on a little quest to 'find ourselves': our true interests, what makes us happy, gives us true joy etc. In agreement with the statement, one of the places to find that is our childhood. Childhood: to the times where we loved, experimented, experienced, indulged without reason all while we were yet to discover the meaning of 'regret' and before applying the concept of 'overthinking'. One of my 'Happy Places' to be when I'm particularly in a thoughtful mood is thinking about my childhood memories. The things my friends and I did in school, Aadarsh's new antics, things I gave importance to, tactics which I thought made me smarter than my parents and so much more! I'd like to write about a few of them in no particular order: 1) I always liked have long hair. However, I didn't know the difference between straight/wavy/curly hair. I remember an image I saw on a magazine of a girl much younger than me (I was in grade 6 or 7 at the time) and she had a particular hairband that I wanted to pull of that look. Since I'd wash hair on Sat's I remember, getting that magazine, and wearing a black hairband with dots (the one I bought) and making sure I wore in how it was shown in the picture and feeling proud and waiting to pull it off better to achieve the length of hair she had in that photo. 2) 9 years of my formal education was in India and a majority of it included memorisation when it came to tests and exams. For the most part since childhood, I've studied alone but there were the few times I would go to Amma when I couldn't memorise a long answer. Having her simply read out the answer and break it into parts would make it SO much easier for me to learn (the part I'm conveniently skipping here is that they also involved crying if she decided to test me on other questions..) but nevertheless the end result was that I always hoped for this question to come in the exam as I was the best prepared. 3) "I don't care". I can't pin point exactly where I picked that up from when I was younger, but it was a brief phase where if anyone said anything/commented, I'd respond I don't care. Never to be rude, but I thought that's how it is used. However, a quick full stop on that phase came when I saw that my younger brother was picking up on it. Anything you ask him/commented, his reply was I don't care. The effect of this stayed with me for long, I have after that never used that phrase in a reply to anyone (except to convince people - good context). 4) Middle school years were interesting schedule wise. I enjoyed school and doing well, participating, taking up responsibility/roles etc. Amma would wake me up in the morning, shower (sometimes we settled on a bargain), she'd comb my hair and with a shirt, skirt, tie, belt, socks and black polished shoes and a heavy bag - we were ready to conquer the day. Amma would come down with me daily to cross the road and wait till the bus came. That's were I'd meet, Garima and Reeta aunty daily (her mom) and began our friendship :) I'd be back from school, change, eat and get back to STUDYING?! voluntarily. I enjoyed going through the diary with homework tasks or revise what we learnt in class. Made me feel productive. Evening would go down to play with brother or with Garima depending on what we'd planned that day during our bus ride back home. Would come back home by 8, it was always between 5-7 or 6-8pm. Extending this time by 30 minutes excited me more than I can believe now. Evening is when, appa would be back and I'd be having dinner by then, while we watched TV/news and slept. On weekends, I remember, I'd wait to start having my lunch around 1:30 as that's when "Karishma ka Karishma" came on TV and would go to amma's room where she was sleeping and watch that and then from 2-2:30 watch Kya Mast Hai Life (loved this) and quietly switched it off and came out to play with aadarsh. I still don't know why I didnt watch these in the TV in the hall or why I had to wait to have my lunch at that time (something with amma sleeping helped -- in the case that I might have to leave out some vegetables I didn't like having). 5) When I was younger (primary school years) and during a visit to Chennai, appa once asked Sruthi and I if we wanted to go to the beach at 5/6am. I was fascinated by the idea (not the beach, or the timing) but that appa wanted to do something with me and asked me if I wanted to join. I remember waking up really early, taking an auto and going Marina beach. We went near the water and it was a beautiful sight. Not many people around and just us three. Appa and kids. That's where I remember my chappal or maybe sruthi's floating away. There was a sudden rush of feeling scared since something we owned was going away + the risks of going to get it (I'll admit I tried and didn't think about the depth of the water/waves). Then a fisherman uncle as I want to call him - went into to get that chappal for us. I was SO SO THANKFUL and amazed that he'd do that for us. Now that I share this, I realise it was sruthi's chappal as I clunched on to mine harder. 6)  One of the things I maintained for many years was that I didn't like when Appa went on office trips. I believed that he went on those trips because I 'allowed' him. He'd ask me and obviously first choice is no but a small little explanation and I'd let him go for no more than 2 days (anything longer was only allowed counting flight hours). Now I'm aware it wasn't my permission as much as his convincing but now also I'd like if and push that they go through me (they do). The last permission I refused might've been me saying - Jakarta?! I don't want to move there and leave Delhi (I'd finally settled after 7 years) but same year we moved to Mumbai.... Another example with trips is that on one particular instance, I didn't want appa to travel. He was going to Mumbai and we were in Bangalore at the time and he said he'd go and come back the same day. I thought my crying made that happen (I really thought I influenced him a lot) but its something I didn't believe. He said he'd be back at 8pm and I remember standing in front of the clock staring at the wall for it to turn 8. It was the very first time I saw the hour hand in a clock move (Was told you cannot see it move as obvious as a minute hand). And to seeing appa at 8 - I thought that was magic. When I was younger, I refused to go to sleep when asked/earlier - purely because I hadn't seen appa that day. I disliked eating without him and sleeping without seeing him. Amma would push to go to sleep and I'd give in and do first class acting of closing my eyes if amma opened the door (I'd flinch my eyes because of the light so she always knew) but I thought I'd fooled her. I'd wait for appa to come and wish goodnight even if sleeping and acted like I was woken up by him (had to sell the story). 7) I remember vividly telling amma (was very very young) denying paruppu saadham once. I don't know why or how that when I said so and she didn't push me (it gets mixed with rice that she thinks I didn't know). Around the time is also when I remember I didn't like milk very much (especially the end part/last few sips). I'd drink 3/4 and on the pre-text of washing the glass, would throw rest of the paal. Again, thought I was SLY as a fly. But I am very very nervous doing something  like this so when appa called/saw me, I freaked out. Either he guessed or I owned up to it and we made a deal to not tell amma (I am sure this was broken from his end). 8) I wanted glasses, braces, to have a fractured arm/leg. Don't question me on these. I only got to try amma's glasses from now and then but she would not allow. I also wanted bangs (flicks, what it was called then) but had no knowledge of hair type/style. I tried to cut a small part over a period of days thinking its not obvious and would pin them so amma didn't see and when she asked - I said its new hair growing. Don't laugh. Now I am a MUCH MUCH better liar - to the extent that I'd like the opposite person to figure out I am lying sometimes. 9) I loved wearing heels. Its not the height or design but the sound they make. So, more than heels, LOVED wooden floors. I wanted them so I could wear heels and keep walking back and forth and feel like an office woman giving presentations/writing on whiteboards (also, my favourite thing when I went to appa's office). I remember I had a Barbie set I think (Heels + jewellery) - I thought jewellery sucked in design/flashy but heels I wore over stairs as the next best thing to hear the sound. But I didn't use it often because it was pink. 10) I remember the first time I was introduced to English songs and it was Love Story & Tik Tok. I didn't know where to hear it but wrote down lyrics from what my friends sang and daily night would read and memorize the lyrics with aadarsh. He picked up tik tok faster even. This was pre-youtube so the English song I discovered by myself was Ibiza because it was on our itunes on a Sony Vaio laptop. (I used youtube AFTER aadarsh who used it before me in Vietnam). - I'd shared that I like getting gifts under the pillow. For NY's once, aadarsh had Rs 50 and we went to a store and he asked for Rs 20 more from appa because we were at a store and I'd mentioned I liked a notebook that had a button to open and close. I knew he was getting it for me but wanted to get after I sat in the car and called appa to come to the store. That morning I woke up to aadarsh eagerly waiting for me to be up and said look under the pillow - and there he had kept the notebook that he bought with the money he'd saved for me. - Aaadarsh, when he was younger had a phase with hearing problem when we had ENT visits and hearing tests. I am not good with anyone close visiting the doctor for anything more than what's a normal fever/cold. ENT was a fancy name and hearing that he has fluid in his head for which he'd need surgery, was not a good news. I remember rushing home, sitting on the study table where I had a small glass ganesha idol (I won this in a Tumbola - Jaldi 5 contest) and I sat in front of the idol - daily for weeks praying that I don't want him to have surgery. After a few weeks when the doctor said, the fluid reduced and he doesn't need surgery - I went to say thanks and never made a wish after. - Aadarsh calls me Akka. He's seldom called/used my name in a sentence. I can't imagine him saying Pavi. But when he was about 3-5 years, my favourite & precious gift is him writing - Happy Birthday, Akka with amma holding his hand and finding that in the morning. However, the habit to call me 'Akka; stuck because I said I won't talk to him if he doesn't call me akka. This tactic doesn't work now :/ - My most lasting impact on him was when I was disappointed at something aadarsh did/said (not acceptable behaviour) and I said I wouldn't talk. I didn't and just when I was to give up (I can't stay mad at him), he'd gone crying to amma and appa asking them to convince me to speak with him. He literally hugged it out with us both making promises. - I learn better when I teach aadarsh. I've taught him grade 10 math, economics etc in grade 5 to help me learn. But grade 11 and me struggling with physics was an interesting experience. I was trying to teach him different types of energy (Kinetic, potential etc) and was highlighting the differences when aadarsh drew something he learnt at school that explained the concepts better. Here's my understanding of Potential Energy (imagining his drawing, a stick figure - moving from atop a cliff to the bottom has displayed potential energy. Not sure who can confirm this for me but at the time, what he taught me helped me manage that unit test.

[thetradeway]

Session 29: 23 Jan 2021 “That’ll be the mating demon.”

Joe tells us that Duncan will rue the day he summoned a bunch of flumphs. He has had to spend an hour this past week reading up on flumphs, an hour that he will never get back. We aren’t going to enjoy it much either, he says. Oh, cool…

Ed will be with us apfelsaft. We give him five minutes, while we discuss Ahleqs’s flumphs. Ah - Ed has arrived. There is more flumph talk; we discuss trying to communicate with them. Do they speak? Our DM and now resident flumph expert, says yes - telepathically.

Now there’s talk about Star Trek, and Critical Role, and conventions. Today is a good day to die. Indeed.

The flumphs emit a faint blue glow - but then start pulsing and turning red. We roll Nature or History checks. All of us except Tarragon and Ahleqs (who both roll nat 1s) know that in the presence of evil things, flumphs turn red.

The flumphs are frightened of Ahleqs, and they do a really fun thing when they’re frightened: they jettison a stream of effluent on the target of their fear. This stuff is a component used by Wizards when casting Stinking Cloud.

Excellent!

Now Ahleqs will smell disgusting for three days - to the point where anyone within 20 feet of him makes a CON save, and if they fail it they will puke.

Less excellent.

On with the combat! Popcorn is still confused, and attacks Kessler. He can make another save versus the confusion, but fails with a 4.

The Babau attacks Rusty with its Weakening Gaze ability, and it succeeds. He now only does half damage with STR based weapons. It then attacks him with a spear, causing some of his less essential bones to fall off. He nimbly shambles out of the way of the second attack, fortunately.

Kessler rolls a 2 on her Confusion so she does not move or act on her turn. She rolls her save to end the spell - and passes. She turns to the demon: “Oi, fuckwit! You’re next!”

Grease wizard is up. He curates some magics for us all to see: Mirror Image. Is that his action? “It is! Balls!” He thinks and or mutters in all his languages: “Er, (mumbling), the evil demon lady must be vanquished! I command ye flumphs in this endeavour!” Celestial, Common, Deep Speech and Dwarvish.

The flumphs show no indication that they’ve understood him. “Blast!”

One of the flumphs shudders - and a bunch of tiny flumphs appear from under its mantle. One of them wriggles up Gideon’s sleeve. “Have I got a baby flumph? I will guard him with my life!”

Rusty attacks the demon elf with a spell, and misses with a 16. “Oh! Augh! Rusty! Get your act together!”

Wait - does he get advantage? Gunna is grappling her. Yes! Ed rolls again. Rolls even lower. Rusty bottled it.

Tarragon rages and rushes over to attack the elf with her quarterstaff - she hits, and gets a glare in return. Ha. Good.

Melaina wants to shoot her in the face. She decides against Sharpshooter, and hits with a 17 doing 21 damage including her sneak attack. She hides as well as she can from things that aren’t looking at her; there isn’t much in the way of hiding places in here.

Can Gunna still hit her if he’s grappling her? He wants to do a Tyson - he makes a melee attack to try and bite off an ear. He hits with a 25! He rips her ear off; well that’s his how-de-do-dis, because she’s dead. Yay! Lots of cheering.

The demon is still there, however. Gunna drops the body of the elf and engages it. 16 to hit? That hits for 14 damage. Dayum. He does a Northman war cry. “Grahhhh!!! Winner!!!!”

Gideon, Gunna, Melaina, Ahleqs and Kessler see the air near the top of the stairs shimmer, and a strange looking dog blinks into existence (Tarragon is facing the wrong way so she doesn’t see it). It runs up and bites the demon. Demon blood flies everywhere.

Ahleqs debates what to do, deciding eventually on Eldritch Blast. 23 and 19 both hit, ten total force damage. “Is it dead? Did I kill it?” No. It didn’t like it but its still alive. Ahleqs sits down in his stink. He makes a CON save to see if he throws up from his own smell, but passes.

“For the next three days.”

Popcorn is no longer confused, so he attacks the Babau, he hits but is disappointed to realise that the thing is resistant to slashing damage. Still hits though.

The Babau does a Weakening Gaze against Gunna, who passes his CON save. It attacks him and hits. He’s still in double figures, he crows.

Kessler casts Magic Missile at level 2 at the Babau - four darts hit it, for 14 damage. “Fucker! I told you I was coming for you!” She moves to cut off his escape, and bonus action slams a potion in case he turns on her. Goblin rage! She adds Fury of the Small to her damage, as an afterthought. And then realises that she doesn’t have any potions left.

Gideon asks how the Babau is looking - makes an Investigation check with a 22. It’s bleeding and heavily wounded, but moving as normal so not all that close to death. He believes it is time to use Ray of Enfeeblement! (Ed reads the description in Gideon’s voice, a quavery old man voice.) He rolls a 19 to hit it - now it only deals half damage with STR based weapons. He’s undermined its confidence, maybe it’ll go away and think about its actions. Gideon also prays to Moradin, his dwarven god, and motions for Rusty to attack as well. He does, but misses. wait - ADV. nope, still a miss.

Tarragon takes the second to last space around the demon; it now resembles the bit in Shaun of the dead where they’re battering that zombie in the Winchester to Don’t Stop Me Now. She hits it with her quarterstaff, screaming obscenities as she goes.

Melaina shoots over Gideon’s head, but misses. ADV, but still a miss. Gunna rinses and repeats. 18 to hit, for 23 - and kills it, yay!

The flumphs start to vanish, but Gideon’s sleeve flumph remains. He is very excited by this. He wants some of the flumph effluent; Ahleqs knows where there’s a large amount of it. Unfortunately (or fortunately) Gideon doesn’t have anything to carry it in.

We make History checks (Melaina at ADV) to see what the elf-demon thing was; she rolls a dirty 20.

It was a fey’ri - half demon, half elf. A noble house of elves bred with demons during an ancient war to strengthen their blood. They capture (usually) sun elves and breed them with demons to create more fey’ri. Morally we were ok killing this thing. Melaina knows that other elves will probably reward us for its head - Good thing Gunna already chopped it off. We stow it away.

Gideon gives the dog a stern look. It seems otherworldly and disinterested in Gideon. We offer it food. It seems interested in Tarragon. She recognises it from her friend - it’s Raeph’s! Perhaps he’s fallen down a well. She asks the dog to take her to Raeph. Its called Naysa. It blinks to the top of the stairs and looks back at us. Ahleqs follows at a distance, presumably wilting the flora as we go.

The dog starts scratching at a door that leads to the ruins at the bottom of the tower.

Do we want to rest before we move on? What time of day is it? Ahleqs finds some water to start scrubbing off the flumph stink. Do any of us fancy helping him, it will give him advantage on his roll? We all refuse immediately. Gideon tries, but fails his CON save and throws up.

Kessler does her Alarm spell. Melaina can do Mage Hand, so she can help Ahleqs from a distance.

On second watch, Ahleqs spots a quasit crawling up the stairs; he thinks he can deal with it himself. It does set off Kessler’s Alarm spell, so she is also awake. Ahleqs does a quiet Eldritch Blast, but he does also do a little scream. Kessler looses her Lightning Launcher. All the attacks hit - the quasit is blasted into dust.

Melaina makes a Perception check for her watch; rolls a 12. She doesn’t see anything and her watch passes without incident.

Gideon asks Tarragon about flumph care; with a nat 20 she knows all about them. They eat small rodents and snakes, but they usually live off telepathic energy and thoughts. Ahleqs suggests pressing the flumph to his head.

The door Naysa leads us to is locked; Melaina unlocks it.

Joe makes the mistake of asking how we enter the room: “QUIETLY!!”

Gunna goes first, with Melaina, then Tarragon. Gideon wants to be the meat in the sandwich, and Kessler goes with him in case she gets the chance to shove him down the stairs. Ahleqs goes at the back, even though he’s less fragrant now.

We makes Stealth checks with Pass Without Trace; Melaina rolls a Nat 20 (30 total with Pass Without Trace gives her 40!) and straight up stops existing.

It’s dark so the humans will need torches, immediately negating all our stealth checks. We hold off lighting any for a minute.

There’s some discussion of asking the dog if it’s dangerous, but we wouldn’t be able to understand her.

Naysa is emitting a low growl - apparently the answer to our unasked question is ‘yes’. Gideon decides to scout ahead - Tarragon goes with to give him the benefit of PWT. We make more stealth checks. We see some ‘disgusting things’ - dretches.

Okay team. We could surprise attack or sneak past?

Ahleqs: “What do they look like?”

Gideon: “Like the goblin but bigger.”

Gideon suggests throwing the sorcerer at them to maximise the surprise and take advantage of his pyrotechnics, thus lighting the scene for the humans.

What’s the plan? Move ourselves to prepare for a surprise attack, then launch a surprise attack.

Gideon grabs Gunna by his big nordic hand and leads him into position. (He’s gone out for a fag, so Sophie says he goes quietly)

Surprise attack!

Gideon kicks off the action with Fireball, and places it so he gets all of them. Joe makes various Dex saves for the dretches - two pass but two fail and are killed outright. Woohoo! Even the ones that make the save are now close to death.

Kessler shoots her Lightning Launcher, waits for her laptop to catch up, then makes her attack rolls. She kills the two remaining dretches. Yay!

We don’t even need to be in initiative. Ahleqs pulls out Simon - he was lit previously, but Ahleqs kept him in his coat. Gunna now lights a torch.

Naysa has stopped growling.

Looking around - we are in subterranean ruins, with elven carvings on the walls. Gideon has Stonecunning - he examines the walls. Rolls a nat 20 and adds double his proficiency.

It’s made of white marble - Gideon believes it to be a palace. “Oh my friends, we shall find such treasures here!” He starts to run his hands over the stone. “Not quite as elegant as dwarvish stonework, to be sure, but it has its merits.”

Can he see any passages? He hems and haws. He thought he saw a door, but he did not. The DM points them out. (Gideon casts Obvious Door.)

There are two doors. They look much the same. Which door does Naysa want to do? She sniffs around and blinks in and out but doesn’t seem to know which way to go. Gideon sniffs about for elven treasures.

Tarragon reaches for one of the doors, but a skeletal hand reaches through and grabs her - she takes 10 necrotic damage and one level of exhaustion!!

Kessler examines the other door - from a distance. Melaina opens the other door with Mage Hand - there is no skeleton on the other side. Just a spiral staircase leading down. Gunna charges down, pressing on the walls and stamping on the floor as hard as he can, poking the ceiling with his sword, licking doorknobs, everything. “The first D&D character to die of coronavirus.” He takes 1 level of hepatitis.

He does some sneaking (with PWT) and rolls a 22 for a 32 total.

We find ourselves in a huge room with a magical wall bisecting it. On the other side is a huge demon!

Gunna makes an Investigation check; rolls a 9. Higher than he was expecting. It looks like there is a cage on a dais on the far side.

Kessler: “That’ll be the mating demon.”

What size is it?

Large.

Gideon rolls Investigation on the forcefield; rolls a 10. “I believe it to be some sort of Force Field.”

Naysa is scrabbling at the forcefield with her paws.

Tarragon finds some double doors, and asks Melaina to take a look at them. (She learned her lesson with the last door.) Melaina checks for traps with a dirty 20 - and finds a trap that required a roll of 20 to spot. Nice!

She wants to disarm it, but if she sets it off it will do a 30ft cone AOE thing. Gunna stays to help her (emotionally - he’s useless mechanically) and Tarragon casts Guidance, while the others move out of the blast radius.

Melaina rolls an 11, and a 1 on her Guidance. Gunna casts Teleport. Disguise Self. Rope Trick!

Gideon is still standing right in the blast radius, so he gets it as well. They all make WIS saves - Melaina Natty 20’s it, Gideon rolls a 15, but Gunna gets 13. They take psychic damage - Gunna takes 15 and gets disadvantage on attacks for 10 minutes. The others get 7 PSY damage and no effect on attacks. Gunna casts Healing Word.

The trap is spent now, however. Melaina has a go at picking the lock, and there’s her 20.

Naysa starts growling. Melaina makes a Perception check (Gunna’s ears are bleeding. He needs some calpol). Gunna takes 12 piercing damage - the end of a spear appears through his side!

We roll initiative - turns out that was a surprise round.

Tarragon Thorn Whips the creature but whiffs it. She casts Healing Word on Gunna for her bonus action. Gideon casts Ray of Enfeeblement, and tucks the baby flumph further up his sleeve to protect it from harm.

Kessler wants to know if we can’t just talk about this. Then she casts Magic Missile at level 2.

Naysa gets a turn - she charges the thing that attacked Gunna and bites it - she is growling and hanging off the creature’s wrist. Gideon: *laughs* “quite the fighter, eh??”

It’s another Babau. It attacks Naysa back, and spears at Gunna again. Gideon halves the damage to Naysa, and the spear attack misses. It does get a save vs. his Enfeeblement, but that’s a big fat fail. “I am a wise and powerful wizard!”

Gunna attacks with a 15, but that’s a miss. He goes again with a 9 (He’s still at disadvantage from the psychic attack from the door).

Ahleqs can’t see anything so he does an Eldritch Blast, doing 3 force damage.

Popcorn rushes forward to savage the Babau. He hits with his beak but misses with his claws. Melaina hides and shoots.

Tarragon misses with her Thorn Whip again. We all kind of want to save our spell slots, because Joe started laughing when Gunna refused another Healing Word, saying he’d be fine as long as ten more Babau didn’t charge around the corner.

Gideon is delighted to find that his Chill Touch spell does an extra die of damage now that he’s level 5! He fondles his book of lore, happy with his attack.

The gobbo does another MM for 12 force damage. No, 16!

The babau, deciding to mix things up a little, spears Gunna again. (He casts Barkskin. Leomund’s Tiny Hut. Um - )

it’s Gunna’s turn. Has ten minutes passed yet? Probably not. He attacks with a 24 - at Disadv! He forces a STR save (Does it have to? Gunna: “I insist.”) and it rolls a 13 - a fail. It takes 18 damage and it is disarmed of its spear, only it isn’t, because Gunna has killed it. Yay!

(Ed puts a gif of someone raising his arms and screaming “Victory!!” on the group chat; Gunna does exactly that.)

Does he need aid with that spear? He takes a potion. We’re all quite tired so Joe calls it there as Mina and Duncan are yawning.

(It turns out that Ed’s Irish coworker has been calling him Rich for the past year but he speaks so quickly that Ed has only just realised that’s what he’s saying. It is now far too late to correct him.)

[bts7writings]

BTS Reaction To You Crying From Missing them

Scene - It been two days since you’ve talked to your boyfreind. him being on tour and doing interviews resulted in you being very conscious in his sleep and refusing to call the, late at night. You’d only text him throughout the day. You were casually finishing work on your laptop, slightly teary, when you got a video call for him.

JIN

He was a bit worried on why you havent been calling him, but once he saw your face all of it disappeared into a smile. “Why haven't you been calling me”

“You’ve been busy and I don't like keeping you up”

“So instead you keep me up, worrying about you?” he nags. He goes in closer to the camera and finally notices your red eyes. “And now I’m worried more, since you’re crying. Whats wrong?”

“I miss you” you let the tears run down and you bring your hands to wipe them away and try to cover your crying face.

“Baby, stop crying” he says gently, “I’m here now - so dry your pretty little face and tell me about your day.”

SUGA

He wasn't mad, he was angry on why you haven't been calling him as much. He was about to give you a piece of his mind, when he saw you blinking too many times to be considered normal.

“Tell me why-wait..ar-are you crying?” His face would soften automatically, as a hand ruffled his own hair, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong” you say trying to wipe a tear that escaped.

“Y/n, you’re crying, you haven't called in two days - I’m thinking the worst here, are you breaking up with m-”

“What? Yoongi, no” you say coming in closer to the camera, “I don’t want you staying up later because of me and then getting tired in the morning - I’m crying because I miss you” You admit

“Baby, I stay up most night with thoughts of you - so help me out and give me a call”

J HOPE

He video called you while in the dressing room, he came rushed into his normal clothing and sat at the table waiting on the other members. When you picked up, his smile illuminated the screen.

“Hey stranger” he teased, “Why haven't you been calling me? Is this your way of telling me I should call you first?” You shake your head, not trusting your voice to be steady in this state.

He instantly notices and gives a gentle smile, “Why is my princess not smiling?” You look down playing with you finger, embarrassed of feeling this selfish towards him.

“I miss you and I don't want to -”

“Say you miss me again” You look up at the laptop and see a familiar hint of darkness in his eyes.

“I..I miss you.” He sighs to control himself around all of the people around him.

“Give me 20 minutes to get to the hotel and I’ll call you”

RAP MONSTER

“I shouldve called sooner, but you know how busy the schedule is over seas” he doesn't seem to mind you not calling him. He trust the relationship and knows how hectic timezones can be.

“Yeah, I was just finishing a project”

“Oh - are you busy? should I hang up?”

“No” you say a little too quickly and a little too urgently. He looks at you closely and a slight frown appears on his face.

“I should’ve called sooner.” he says again

“You’ve been buys, joonie - don't worry about me.”

“Babygirl that’s impossible and you know it” He gets comfortable on his hotel bed, “God, you got me used to sleeping a whole night with you by my side”

“I miss you too” you tease.

JIMIN

Rehearsals had just finished and he had a short break for the first time in these past 2 days. His finger immediately went to FaceTime you.

“Have you been sick? I left a stock of medicine in your bathroom cabinet before I left. Ya-yagiya, why are you crying?” His eyebrows pull together in confusion.

“It’s nothing, I’m just being silly”

“It’s not nothing if its got you crying” You breathe in trying to steady your words, hating the voice that accompanies your crying, “I miss you”

“I miss you too” he admits going further from the staff and members, “I want to show you how much when I get home to you, so wait for me, okay?”

V

“Oh! I was worried you’d be asleep by now- whats wrong? why are you crying?” He didn't even need to look at you for more than a second to figure out how sad you were. Lying to him would be useless so you breath out the truth.

“Tae, I miss you”

“Is that why you haven't been calling me? you’ve got a funny way of showing that” he teases, causing you to burst out crying, “Oh no-no, i didn't mean it like that. Baby, don’t cry.” He waits until your breathing regulates to a calm state.

“I’m sor-”

“You better not be apologizing” he warns, “I’ll be home before you know it. Until then I left two of my used shirts in your closet. Next time give me something similar when I go for tour, alright?”

JUNGKOOK

Seeing as you weren't calling him, he took matters into his own hands. Half annoyed and half hesitant he video calls you in his empty hotel room. Once you answer, he sits up properly - immediately recognizing your crying face. “Aigoo, you haven't been calling me because of this cold you have?” he teases, “You know you can't get me sick over the phone”

“-Stop joking. I miss you and I can’t sleep sometimes” you choke out, trying to stop the tears from overflooding your eyesight. You put your head down to try and calm yourself down.

“I miss you, too” he says feeling bad from the situation, “Look at me.” he waits patiently until you look up at the pixels that form his image. His chest swells up with nothing but love for you, he stays there examining your face, until he’s sure he can draw you from memory alone. “Hang up and call me on your phone, y/n. Maybe we’ll both get a goodnight sleep tonight.”

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[buffalowingsfortwo]

from faith 

5 september 2019

ash, 

this is late. extremely, unavoidably late. coincidentally right after the day i said i didn’t want to make a habit out of making late posts. still, i stick to the statement and refuse to make it a reoccurring event. however, today (or yesterday i guess) it was really just so impossible to be able to get this done.

i woke up at 7, but again i refused to get up until my roommate left which almost made me late for class. see, if i were to get up when i woke up, i would have time to do my get ready, do my makeup AND hair, get something to eat and make it to class with time to spare. but i cannot explain in words how worth it it is to sacrifice that just to avoid my roommate for a little longer. for a short while i considered getting up extra early, like maybe 5:30/6ish, but then she would just wake up and watch me as i moved across the room or got ready.

i wore a white denim shirt and this blue blouse with tiny white polka dots on it that my mom gave me. i did hardly any makeup, given the fact that i had no time. and i put all my hair into one braid and hoped it would hide the fact that i hadn’t brushed it. it probably didn’t. for a bit, i thought about how i would do your hair on occasion. i thought about all the times you sat on the floor in-between my legs in classrooms while i told you to sit still and tried to tame your hair. or when we were in philosophy and i would do it from my seat behind yours.

i should have appreciated it more at the time, because even though its so small and pointless, i was kind of sad at the thought that we won’t ever be in that setting again. i could do your hair at my house, or at yours. maybe in a car or something. but never in a classroom, pulling random supplies out of my backpack and trying to hurry before the teacher would say something.

my class was okay. it was a class. it starts at 9 and ends at 10:15. i didn’t talk to my partner much. although, while i was in there i realized how much i hate the remind app. it sucks. so i looked up scheduling apps and found something called “microsoft to-do”. this app was definitely made from god to give to me. after my class i rushed back to my dorm, did some homework, undated my resume and then printed it. i realized i don’t have a stapler. i should probably get one. i only had until 11:20, cause then i had to go to a club fair and help set up the spb booth. spb has been taking most of my time, aside from homework and classes, of course. (spb is the student programming board btw, i don’t know if i mentioned that before). i ended up going around and looking for more clubs to join (im insane) and found the green society. i ran to the booth when i saw it. i was so excited about it, and me and the booth representative ended up talking for half an hour and he was the most passionate environmentalist i have ever met. he talked about how its so important to do stuff, instead of just saying stuff and getting mad about it (like all of twitter), and he talked about how there’s so much more to being an environmentalist than just straws, and he talked about how he goes to city board meetings because he knows the only way to change things is to get the politicians to hear you. he said so much more and he was so enthusiastic, as was i. he could definitely tell. we bonded over being environmental science and resource management majors and he told me he was so happy to find someone equally passionate as himself, instead of someone who just wanted to put it on a resume. he told me he would mentor me so that eventually i would be able to be put into a position of leadership within the club. i would drop every single club im in just to be in this one, that’s how much i love it. i ended up finishing early, and went to the cafeteria to eat while i could. you called me then. i didn’t realize how much i missed you until i talked to you, and i wished you were there with me but talking to you was more than i could ask for. for now. i helped the lady in the booth next to mine set up her wifi, and then i went to set up something called “carnival kickoff”. one task i had was to make a balloon archway with streamers hanging down from them. there, i met maryanne. i think ive made some decent friends here. even really good ones. but none of them are maryanne. we clicked instantly when we met, and i felt comfortable. there was so awkwardness or pleasantries, we just clicked. and guess what? shes peruvian, is the youngest of 3, has two older sisters and no brothers, and her favorite artist is travis scott. every time we found something coincidental about us, we laughed and smiled so wide. we made plans together, after knowing each other for maybe an hour. i had to go to class at 6, but i got out at 7 and went back to my dorm to change and we met up outside our dorm buildings and walked to the dining hall. we ate together and got to know each other better. she told me her mom called her while i was in class and that she told her about me. her mom said she was happy and excited for her. we both talked about how happy we are that we met each other.

we left the dining hall at 8:15 and went back to help out spb run the sign in-booth. they let us go around 9:30 cause the event was ending, and we ran around and did as many carnival games as we could. i won 2 prizes. i would describe them to you but i fully plan on giving them to you the next time i see you, and i want to see you laugh when i hand them to you.

afterwards, we didn’t want the night to end so we were gonna go swimming. but we didn’t. we heading up to her hall’s family room and watched “a simple favor” on my laptop. i ended up leaving when the movie was over, around 12:30 but we made plans to go out the next day. or that same day given the time. i think we’re going into the town using the public transportation, and im kind of scared.

after, i came back and showered and got ready for bed and squeezed in one last homework assignment before falling into bed. dreamless, and instantly, i fell asleep.

also, i posted this at like 9 in the morning and im just realizing right now that it didnt post so its extra extra late. fuck this app. 

[esthersnippe]

Portugal, 2017.

There is no way around this. This is going to be a long post with three big stories and bunch of little ones. I’ve got to record this though, or I fear I could forget. 

The Case with 2 Dead iPhones

Carolyn and I drove down from Brussels to Portugal. A night or two before, I had a new lover over, and had some mind blowing sex. I had written him a message, and he didn’t reply. Then I wrote him another, and he didn’t reply to that either. Somewhere between Luxembourg and Lyon, I became obsessed with checking to see if he had written back. He didn’t. 

I told myself to put down my phone and stop checking, but this was impossible. Even putting it down for 20 minutes was beyond my scope of willpower. 

That night, I put my iPhone on the table beside the bed. Carolyn had gotten a bottle of water from the freezer, and put it a few feet away. Sometime in the night, the condensation melted off the bottle, formed a small river, and bathed my iPhone in cool water. The next morning it was dead. (Yes, we tried the rice thing, and even brought it to two different repair shops, but it was dead dead dead.) I quickly switched between confident contingency plans to tears. I wanted to go home immediately. Fuck Portugal. I wanted the comfort of my smartphone. Plus- if I didn’t take pictures, did it really happen?

I got to Peniche, to Yacine’s flat, and immediately got on the phone (thanks, Skype) to Barclays Insurance. After a hoopla and a half, they agreed to send one to Henry. Henry got it on Wednesday, and by Friday, it got to Peniche. Just in time, because I was leaving early on Monday morning. 

I plugged it in. Loaded my apps. Even made an Instagram video of a sunset. I thought I was set. Until Sunday morning- the brand new iPhone died. Some kind of glitch. It wanted to be plugged into iTunes, iTunes refused to recognize the phone. Apple support tried to help, but the phone was dead. 

I was able to make it to Coimbra without any phones, arranging times and meetups. I took it immediately to a repair shop across from Julieta’s place. He was convinced he could fix it. I was convinced too. But then, after 3 days, he said he would need another week. And I was done with trying. 

There was something I had to learn about dependence and addiction and doing things for others or myself. It’s been a ride. Not always fun, and there are a lot of images I am afraid I will lose in a few years, but transformative in its own way. I don’t need a smartphone to travel. In fact, it put me more deeply in the moment. More deeply connected and listening and watching and learning. Yes, all I can say was the challenge was transformative. I have two mantra’s I repeated throughout the trip. 

One was for wanting to constantly update and the mantra was “This moment is just for me.” Paper cranes, and sunsets, forests and castles and empty beaches. Walks up steep hills and full moons and artists splashed with sparkles. These moments now only belong to me. 

The second was “I am not a walking piece of data.” I do not need to track maps and calories and footsteps and photos to be alive and in the moment. I am not a robot but a human. Somewhere, I had forgotten this, and it was important to be reminded. 

Love is a Portal

Over the years, something became blocked in me (we can call it LUSH or immigration or cheese or whatever) but I had lost my connection to my heart. I feel like this is the first time in many years that I have deeply reconnected to my both my heart and its connection to the overarching idea. Tamera helped with this in two profound ways. The first was the kismet of being there. Of Carolyn and Ivan. Of just showing up and everything unfolding. My life was once a series of these unfoldings and had, in the past few years, transformed into a series of checklists. I am falling back into unfolding. 

On one of the mornings, we went to the Stone Circle (yes, it is as new age-y as it sounds, but leave that to the one side for now, if you will.) and we were encouraged to meditate on “What is love?” 

I sat there. Then I started to think about Grace. BIG love. Then I thought about Jordan. Then Pierre, Brandon, Stu, Remi, that viscous impulse. Then about Janessa, Gina, then Sarah, soft and glowing. My bicycle. Fresh avocados. Travel. New cities. Amsterdam, Brussels, Vancouver, Riga, Oaxaca. My tiny kitchen. Henry. I tried to focus on what these things were. 

They began to morph into this idea that these things are openings. Openings into love. Love is riveting, bright, and electric current. Vivacious, crackling, and immense. These people and things are portals into this bigger thing. Some of the portals are big and wide, some are small cracks. Then I realized that some (Daniel, Brandon, Aaron) are closed now. This made me sad for a moment until I looked forward and saw that there are a million more portals I haven’t discovered yet. 

And this is it- that what I am doing here. I am not traveling for checklists. I am not loving to be loved. Sex is not some open season for points. I am searching for more portals. Stretching the already existing portals. 

Falling deeper into the greater connectivity, which is love. 

Something about neon lights exploding (Alternative title: Life is too short to do this with out you.) 

There is a man who I have had a very long love story with. We’ve picked it up and dropped it again. We’ve been in love with other people. But I have never felt a connection to another person like I do for this man. Probably because he is so beautiful and I like his style. But then again, probably not just that. 

I have been in love with him for years, and one day in Tamera, I began to talk to Anya about him, and all the sudden, I fell into a pool of tears. I realized I was so, so, tired. Natalia and I talked. She said “Message him and see what is up. Ask him if he is still in love with that other woman.” I didn’t. I categorically chickened out. I wrote him, and deleted, and then wrote him again and deleted it a second time. I snapped my laptop shut and said something like “I will just wait, when the time is right, it will be right. He is worth waiting for.” 

I played out the rest of the art course, thinking a lot about love, but decidedly leaving it to fate. 

The day after I left Tamera, I was at Filip’s house, and he had gone out for a few hours. I was working quietly, when he came online. I said “Hello” and told him a few things about the month passed. We video chatted, and when I saw his face, neon lights exploded in my heart. He is so, so beautiful. 

We talked and talked and talked, and I felt like my face was going to break I was smiling so hard. I asked him to come meet me somewhere. Anywhere. The energy coursed between us, across 8500km and it was so palpable, I felt like I was coursing in his presence. 

He told me he wasn’t with her anymore. And for the first time in 5 years, I wasn’t with Pierre anymore. And now, here we are. Here we are (still 8500km apart, but F**K HERE WE ARE NOW.)  I don’t know how it will play out. Or if it will play out. I am just going to stay connected to my heart, and not expect too much and just enjoy this little bit right here. It’s all shifting. 

I have dreams of traveling the planet with this man. Of quiet car rides across Tajikistan and wild sex in Madagascar, and sailing around the Philippeans and just seeing that gorgeous face more than once every 7 years. Keep it simple, right? 

Other important sentences from Portugal 2017

-“Excuse me. Can you not see that I am driving? If you are serious about wanting to exist, then I spend 8 hours a day in a music studio. You’re welcome to come visit me when I am sitting at my piano. Otherwise, leave me alone and go bother Leonard Cohen.” -Tom Waites on Creativity

-But she just needed time. Because a few years later, she gave birth to Joseph, who shone like the sun and told people about their dreams. There was no rushing it. It needed to be the right moment to happen. (On Rachel, from the Old Testament) 

- J’existe.

-Be happy, and the reason for it will come. It is your spiritual duty to be happy. Don’t be resistant to it, live as an expression of joy. 

- “No single instant of it was unendurable. Here was a second right here: he’d endured it. What was undealable-with was the thought of all the instants all lined up and stretching ahead, glittering.” -David Foster Wallace

-Anxiousness is a fear of the future, but you don’t have to be afraid anymore, because the worst part is over, and you needed everything to break or you wouldn’t have changed everything. You’re off that track now. So take the time and feel gratitude for that. To feel peaceful. Relaxed. And en route. Don’t rush it, or wish for the next thing. Bathe in it, and be washed clean. 

-“Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from god.” -Kurt Vonnegut

-Stars. More stars. More stars than I have seen in years. 

-Sometimes I wish you were here. Or that I was there. Or we were fucking anywhere. But we are simply not there yet. Yet. Yet. Yet is not a failure. And yet is not a no. Yet just means we’ve got a little way to go. 

- If you try and hold onto love, you will suffocate it. You need to be a channel of love and let it flow through you. 

-What I need from you here is to be reminded of why we do this. I need the adventurers, the risk-takers, the philosophers, the rebels, the goddesses, the free-thinkers and the curious. I need to be filled up. I need you to remind me of why this is all worthwhile. Because humankind is better than the systems we’ve created. Humankind is simply better than this. 

[baby-blossoms]

Okay. - Lin-Manuel Miranda

 Pairing: Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader

Warnings: One or two cuss words I think?? Mentions of child cancer.

Character Count: 13,685

Summary: Chosen AU where you share each other’s thoughts. Daveed asks you to read for Eliza in Hamilton- Hamilton is still in its workshop stages.

 You hummed along, tapping a pencil against the wooden picnic table you were sitting at to the beat of the song. The soft lights in the park just barely illuminated the area around you.

Do you like it?

Your chosen’s voice rang through your ears, just louder than the music. You smiled softly, it was the voice you had heard since childhood. Everyone had this ability, if you wanted to, you could open the channel with your chosen and talk- no, think, to them.

    To be specific, the channel was always open unless you willingly closed it, which you did often. But when you finally relaxed after a long day, your channel always seemed to slip open without you realizing. Your chosen always seemed to have his channel open, ready to talk to you or listen to you at all hours of the day.

Figuratively of course, though, this man, whoever he was, pulled all-nighters all the time. But he was kind, and funny, and your soulmate. Those facts made up for his racing mind that would sometimes slam into you at three in the morning, waking you up instantly.

    You and your chosen shared dreams, when he did sleep, but you never clearly got a look at his face.

It’s great, but helpless doesn’t rhyme in the way you’re trying to make it, why don’t you try using, I don’t know, defenseless?

 He closed the channel for a minute and you frowned, glancing around the park you sighed, wondering why he was so quiet for once in his life. It was unsettling to you when he closed his connection, technically speaking it was a part of you being closed off, but you realized how often you closed your own channel and then you felt guilty seeing as he probably felt like this all the time, but you couldn’t help it. Your work- they politely suggested that you close off your channel during office hours, seeing as a soulmate is a distraction.

It’s perfect!

You let out a small laugh as he started the song again, then rolled your eyes and you checked the time, your break was over.

I have to go, sorry, my break’s over.

He shot back a quick goodbye, making you smile at how absorbed in his work he was, you then closed the connection with a small sigh.

One day you would meet him, and you would finally know his name. All these years of hearing him talk to you, think to you, confide in you, and you didn’t even know his name.

         It was a fate everyone had. You hear your chosen, you share each other’s dreams, yet you can’t see their face or know their name until you met them. Every time their name is uttered a low hum prevents you from hearing, and it’s infuriating. People say meeting your chosen is such a magical experience, and you frowned, not knowing how long you would have to wait to have that experience.

   Your chosen wasn’t technically a soulmate, it was someone the universe had chosen for you for a specific reason. They might be chosen for love, for friendship, or just for company. You knew plenty of people who loathed their chosen, some who even refused to open the channel. You even had a homosexual friend who had a woman as a chosen, really it just depended on what you needed in life. You had decided your chosen was for company, something the both of you needed.

    Letting yet another sigh escape your lips, you stuffed your pencil and sketchbook into the small light blue bag you carried everywhere.

 Light blue. It was a sign of calm, a reminder of the ocean, which you had a passion for, it is associated with depth and stability. Stability was a thing you needed in your life, and so blue was undoubtedly your favorite color.

  You smiled to yourself when you realized you were humming his song under your breath. You couldn’t be blamed though, the man was a genius with music. You silenced your thoughts and opened the connection for just a moment to hear him still tinkering with the words of his song, then closed it once more, your smile widening.

   “Y/N!”

Turning to see who on earth would be screaming your name like a madman in the middle of New York at 10:00pm, you were met with your friend Daveed jogging up to you. His hair bouncing along with his steps, paired with his wide goofy grin made you laugh lightly.

   “Y/N! It’s so great to see you. How long’s it been? Two- three days?”

You rolled your eyes, shooting back a quick,

      “It’s been about two weeks, Daveed.”

He scratched the back of his neck, his smile softening.

     “Sorry, just been really busy. I’ve been working on a project- you’re not gonna believe this!”

You rolled your eyes playfully, motioning for him to continue.

 “Okay, this guy’s name is Lin-Manuel Miranda, he’s making a musical about Alexander Hamilton.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you asked,

   “So, this-”

 “Lin-Manuel Miranda.”

   “So, this Lin-Manuel Miranda is making a musical about some dude barely anyone knows about in history?”

Daveed nodded, letting out an airy laugh, then continuing,

“Yeah, I know I said the same thing when I was asked to join the project. That’s why I’m here actually, it’s still in workshop stages, and we need someone to read- well, sing for Elizabeth Schuyler.”

You arched an eyebrow.

   “Okay, and you’re talking to me because…?”

He huffed out a breath.

 “Do I have to spell it out? I’m asking you to read for Eliza.”

Shifting your weight, you checked the time, then scratched your cheek.

 “Okay, but why me?”

Daveed crossed his arms, shaking his head.

    “Come on, Y/N. Don’t act oblivious, I’ve heard you sing before!”

You mimicked Daveed, crossing your arms defensively,

 “Daveed, you heard me sing one time in college, and you were drunk off your ass. I really have to go, I’m gonna be late for work.”

He grabbed your shoulder, making you jump backwards, in surprise.

   “Please, I’m begging you Y/N. Just do this for me, please?”

You sighed, letting a small smile slip seamlessly back onto your lips.

  “I’ll think about it.”

Offering him a soft smile and a goodbye hug, you got to work barely a minute late, then surrounding yourself in the atmosphere.

  Working at a small cafe wasn’t too bad, but being a waitress meant rude comments, inappropriate touching from men that were far too old for you, and more rude comments. There were moments that saved your day though, like a nice elderly man asking why such a kind young woman would stay at a job like this, or a small shy child looking so proud of himself when he told you his order.

Thinks like that made your day better.

After a few hours, you were clearing off your last table, minutes away from going home.

   “Y/N.”

You turned from the table, letting your attention fall to your coworker, Elian, she was a short middle aged single mom, sporting a bob cut, minimal makeup, small hoop earrings, and a soft personality. She had a sad, painful background, and it nearly made you want to cry every time you thought about it. Elian had a three-year-old son who had just recently relapsed into chemotherapy. Her husband had left her, claiming it was too much for him to handle.

  “What’s up, Elian?”

You brushed some hair that fell out of your ponytail behind your ear, then straightening out your apron.

 “I really hate to ask you this, but my son- he-”

      Her voice faltered, and you could see the tears in her eyes. Quickly you rushed to her side,

  “It’s okay, I’ll take your shift, go.”

She nodded, hiccupping once or twice, then rushing off. You sighed, plopping down gracefully in one of the booths, taking Elian’s shift meant 6 more hours were added to your own.

That meant absolutely zero sleep any time soon.

           Zero sleep was the least you could do for Elian, that woman deserved the world in her hands, and what she got was- You sighed again, shaking your head, and getting up. It was almost 1 am, which meant the college students would be coming in soon.

 They were easy to deal with, most of the college students coming at night were attempting all-nighters while trying to finish a project, so really all you had to do was remember to refill their coffee.

        It wasn’t too bad, and on the bright side, you stopped serving food past 12:00, so you would be left to your own thoughts.

 After about an hour of serving a 20-year-old looking boy, frantically typing something on his laptop, he paid and left, thanking you for the ‘fab’ coffee.

     You were left to yourself, this place was quite the hole in the wall, so you didn’t really expect anyone else to come in, especially if they were looking for food.

      Plugging in your phone to the main speakers, you smiled, singing along to 'I Want to Know What Love Is’

I got to take a little time,

You took a soft breath,

A little time to think things over…

      Pausing with the music, you closed your eyes, and letting it take you, imagining you were center stage at your concert.

I better read between the lines,

In case I need it when I’m older.

   Your voice was a whisper, barely heard over the music,

Now this mountain I must climb

    You placed a hand to your heart,

Feels like a world upon my shoulders

And through the clouds I see love shine,

It keeps me warm as life grows colder…

    You clutched your chest, your voice rising, echoing through the restaurant,

In my life, there’s been heartache and pain,

I don’t know if I can face it again, can’t stop now, I’ve traveled too far to change this lonely life.

I want to know what love is

I want you to show me

I want to feel what love is

I know you can show me

   You let out another soft breath, rolling your shoulders, trying to relax your muscles.

I’m gonna take a little time,

A little time to look around me

    You gestured to yourself, smiling sadly, slowly getting into character with the song,

I’ve got nowhere left to hide,

It looks like love has finally found me.

    You clutched your shirt, belting out the next lyrics,

In my life,

There’s been heartache and pain.

I don’t know if I can face it again,

Can’t stop now, I’ve traveled too far

To change this lonely life.

   Loosening your grip on your shirt, you took another quick breath,

I want to know what love is,

I want you to show me

   You reached out your hand slightly as if begging someone to take it,

I want to feel what love is

     You let your hand drop,

I know you can show me…

    You continued to sing to the rest of the song, putting your heart into it, seeing as it was one of your favorites.

Letting out a soft breath you smiled in content, opening your eyes again, and quickly getting back to cleaning the register area and dramatically singing along with your music.

     You let the beat of Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’ take you into your own dance, which naturally led to singing, and getting really into it. You twirled around, throwing your head back, running your hands through your hair, then down your sides, belting out the lines, and swaying your hips.

 You opened your eyes again, the words dying in your throat as you flinched away from the dark figure standing far too close to you. Screaming, you immediately threw a metal cup at the person before he stepped into the light, revealing Daveed, rubbing where the cup hit him in the face.

         “Oh, my god I’m so sorry! Why didn’t the bell ring when you opened the door?”

   You clutched your chest, trying to slow your breathing, then noticing the shorter Hispanic looking man standing next to Daveed. He had longer hair, just barely shoulder length, his eyes dark, analyzing you in a way that made you blush. You looked away before making eye contact with him,

      “What the hell were you doing Daveed?”

He smiled, his eyes sparkling as he quickly said,

     “I told Lin about you, and he said he wanted to meet you- it was the perfect opportunity, you had just started to sing I want to know what love is, and you were- damn you were belting!”

You cut him off with a sharp glare and hissed,

 “You could have told me you were coming!”

He responded with a shrug,

    “If I told you, we both know you’d make a lame excuse not to sing.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration,

 “Why didn’t you make me aware of your presence before I- before I started dancing?”

His dorky smile turned mischievous and, damn was he walking sex when he wanted to be.

    “Why would I ever do such a thing, Y/N? The way you were shaking those hips…”

He licked his lips, leaning onto the counter separating you from him. You blushed, slapping him on the side of the head, then huffing, and going to prepare his usual order.

  “You’re a real dick, Daveed, I hope you know that.”

You could hear his light chuckle before he responded,

  “Yeah, but you can’t deny that you want a piece of this, Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes and shaking your head, you were tempted to throw his coffee at him.

   “Lin-Manuel, isn’t it? Do you want some coffee? It’s on the house for having to watch that mess a few minutes ago…”

His laugh was musical and familiar.

  “No thanks, but really, would you consider singing for Eliza? Your voice is, it’s amazing…”

You gave a light chuckle,

    “Yeah, I’ll consider-”

You turned to give Daveed his coffee, but stopped short when you met Lin’s eyes. You didn’t even notice you had dropped his coffee as the dreams you had shared flooded over you, finally his face cleared and you saw him.

   Lin.

And you knew he was not chosen to be your friend, or just your company, you knew that you would fall in love with Lin-Manuel Miranda. Hell, you could probably rightfully say you were already in love with him.

   “Y/N? Oh, my god. You guys are chosen, aren’t you? Now have to be Eliza, Y/N.”

You tore your eyes from Lin just long enough to meet Daveed’s, a knowing smirk had taken over his face, and you let out an airy laugh. Looking back to Lin, he had never stopped staring at you, a wide smile graced his lips once you breathed out,

    “Okay.”

@courfeyracs-swordcane

[lotsofdogs]

Ryder’s Birth Story

I am sitting here with our sweet little newborn baby cuddled up on a squishy Boppy pillow in my lap with my laptop propped up in front of me. My heart is so incredibly full. The first few days of Ryder’s life were unlike anything we predicted or imagined and having our baby home with us feels like the biggest blessing.

I want to share Ryder’s full birth story on the blog today and it’s taken me a while to have both the time and the energy to type everything up, mostly because the first few days of Ryder’s life were incredibly stressful and scary and filled with long hours in the neonatal intensive care unit. Seeing our tiny baby hooked up to breathing tubes and feeding tubes made me feel more helpless than I have in my entire life and I am so beyond grateful for the amazing care Ryder received. I could not be more proud of his amazing strength. The nurses and doctors did not think he’d be home with us this quickly and we are so beyond thankful.

I want to share Ryder’s birth story on the blog in a way that focuses on just that – his birth. It’s hard not to feel like Ryder’s birth was clouded by everything that followed since four short hours after he arrived he was unexpectedly whisked off to the NICU but I want to focus on his birth in this post because it was a moment we hoped and prayed so hard for and it was truly one of the most incredible and emotional moments of my entire life.

Ryder’s Birth Story

Ryder was born on Monday, June 18 at 3:29 p.m. He arrived right on time – on his due date! – which shocked me mainly because I fully anticipated going into labor early since his big brother was born at 38 weeks and I had two experiences with false labor prior to his arrival. I was just beginning to think that I might need help to go into labor this time around since my doctor mentioned stripping my membranes at my 39 week appointment and said we’d discuss induction options at my 40-week appointment if I was still pregnant and no further dilated or effaced.

(39 weeks, 6 days. The day before Ryder was born!)

On the Sunday before I went into labor, we went out to dinner to celebrate Father’s Day at Hawthorne’s Pizza in Huntersville. We were on a mission to order The Inducer Pizza, a buffalo chicken pizza said to induce labor by many expectant moms in our area. A few of Ryan’s coworkers and a handful of moms I know recommended the pizza to us and even though we had no expectations of it working, it seemed like a fun activity and the buffalo chicken pizza was quite delicious!

Though I clearly cannot credit The Inducer with causing me to go into labor, we couldn’t help but laugh and say, “Well, it worked!” when I woke up around 5 a.m. on Monday morning to a serious contraction. It was very painful and I immediately rushed to the bathroom. The pain was intense and lasted about 90 seconds. Half an hour later, another contraction followed and less than 30 minutes after that, another.

I didn’t say anything to Ryan right away since he woke up just before my first contraction and went into our garage to work out. Plus, with two false labor experiences under my belt, I didn’t want to sound the alarm just in case this wasn’t the real deal. By 6:30 a.m., the pain increased further and my contractions were about 20 minutes apart. I became increasingly convinced this was the real deal. By the time Ryan was done with his workout, I told him what was happening and encouraged him to keep his cell phone on but still go into work because I didn’t want him to just wait at home and stare at me, especially since I still found myself doubting everything and worrying about another false labor experience.

Ryan headed into work just before 7 a.m. and soon after he left my mom and Chase were up. I told my mom what was happening and we both said we were pretty darn sure this was the real deal. I took a shower to try to relax and pulled on the ugliest pajamas I could find just in case my water broke or any bleeding occurred and tried to rest in our bed.

Chase joined me to “talk a little bit” which was such a great distraction. It also helped me think of things other than the pain and my thoughts mainly centered around the fact that this could very well be our last morning together before he became a big brother. Cue all the emotions!

I ended up calling Ryan at work around 9 a.m. and told him to head home within an hour because I was pretty darn positive this was the real deal. After I called him, I called my OB/GYN’s office and explained what I was experiencing. My contractions were strong and relatively close together but kind of strange. I would get one really big contraction that lasted between one and two minutes and then about 45 seconds later I experienced what I could only describe as an “after shock” contraction that was still painful but not quite as intense and lasted for 25-45 seconds.

When the nurse asked me about the spacing of my contractions I explained that they were somewhat regular but still rather far apart – about 10 minutes. I didn’t count my “after shock” contractions when I spoke with her which, in retrospect, I should have because I very likely would’ve been sent directly to the hospital. Instead, the nurse made me a 10 a.m. appointment at the OB/GYN’s office where I was hooked up to a monitor for nearly 40 minutes.

Ryan and I gave Sadie and Chase hugs and kisses, took a few last-minute family pictures during a contraction reprieve, loaded up Ryan’s car with our hospital bags and headed off to the OB/GYN.

When we arrived, I was checked and told I was 3 centimeters dilated which was encouraging since I was 2 centimeters at my 39 week appointment but also a bit discouraging since I was hoping to be further along.

During the 40 minutes I spent hooked up to the monitors, my contractions became very regular and I had one big contraction every four minutes but my “after shock” contractions continued in between each of them with just as much pain but a shorter duration. I was given apple juice and Cheez-Its to try to make our baby move since I wasn’t feeling much movement at this point. Thankfully the juice seemed to do the trick and made our baby move but 40 minutes later I was in so much pain and feeling more and more nauseated by the second.

When the nurse practitioner came in to check on me for a second time, she looked at my contraction readings and said she had no doubt this was the real deal and sent us across the street to the hospital. I ended up throwing up in the parking lot of the OB/GYN’s office and then Ryan and I sped off to the hospital where I was immediately admitted a little after 11 a.m. and hooked up to the monitors.

They didn’t check me at this point since my contractions were so close together and the nurses said they thought things were going to progress very quickly. I was in so much pain – I truly think I blacked out how freaking painful contractions are after my first delivery – and when they said I could request the epidural immediately, I didn’t hesitate when I said YES.

It took a while to get fluids into my body and for the anesthesiologist to come into our room with my epidural and I did everything I could to work through the pain of seemingly back-to-back contractions. One thing I remembered from my labor with Chase was that there was NOTHING I could do to alleviate the pain of a contraction and no position I could get into to make myself feel better. That rang true this time as well and I moaned and groaned through the pain.

Eventually my epidural was ready and I didn’t care at all bout the needle because I just wanted the pain relief! Unfortunately the epidural didn’t work for me the first time. My legs and feet were numb but I still felt the pain of every single contraction. The doctor apologized and said this was extremely rare but assured me he thought he could try again with success. The whole process of getting the second epidural took nearly an hour and I ended up throwing up again and continued to try to breathe my way through contractions, this time with tingly legs that required me to stay in bed.

My second epidural worked quickly and the pain relief was so ridiculously wonderful.

I relaxed and found myself thinking more and more about the moment I’d push and we’d meet our baby for the first time. I was totally awake and alert (I refused any pain or nausea medication prior to the epidural since I received something before my epidural with Chase that I HATED because it made me feel mentally fuzzy) and I truly had FUN talking with Ryan about baby names and the excitement surrounding not knowing whether we were about to meet our son or daughter. I know epidurals aren’t for everyone but man oh man it was the right decision for me. Bless that epidural. Phew!!!

Soon after my second epidural took effect, I was checked and told I progressed to 8 centimeters and was 100 percent effaced. Our midwife broke my water and told me I’d likely be pushing within an hour. It was so exciting!

The next time I was checked was less than an hour later and I was 10 centimeters dilated. The same midwife who delivered Chase was working on Monday and since we have such a great relationship, I was absolutely thrilled when she said she couldn’t wait to deliver our second baby, too. She told me I could try one “practice push” to see how it felt and that was all Ryder needed to begin his journey into the world!

Our midwife saw his head and told me to stop pushing because the next push would be the push and we’d meet our little one! It was such a surreal experience and when I was told to push again, I pushed hard and could feel Ryder’s body sliding out of mine and into the world. It was unbelievable.

We asked that Ryan be the one to announce our baby’s sex but when our midwife held him up, we both saw our wiggling naked baby together for the first time. “It’s a BOY!” I cried and then a rush of the most intense emotions took over and I started sobbing.

I looked up at Ryan and saw his eyes fill with tears as we looked back and forth from each other to our son.

He was finally here!

I would love to say that Ryder’s birth was all about Ryder and in many, many ways it was but it also felt like the very best possible ending to an intense journey of loss, hope, prayer, more loss, continued hope and prayer.

A huge part of me is so aware that Ryder wouldn’t be here if the two babies we lost were born. I thought of this the minute he was placed on my chest after he was born and I was overcome with emotion. All of the disbelief I felt during my pregnancy with Ryder and the guard I kept up for the past nine months finally came crashing down as I held our son. I soaked up every inch of his soft skin and chubby cheeks. I stroked his wet, dark hair and kissed his perfect pink lips. And I cried. Ryder is our miracle and he’s a miracle I dreamed about and longed for with every piece of my heart.

I still feel pain and I still feel grief when I think about our two babies in heaven. I know that this will never fully subside nor do I want it to go away because we love all of our babies and always, always will. But now, somehow, through all of the pain and all of the tears and all of the grief, the fear, the hopelessness and the overwhelming sadness, we have the most perfect proof of answered prayers.

A beautiful baby boy.

Ryder came into this world right on time. He was born right when he was supposed to be born. He’s our little miracle and I feel so overwhelmingly blessed and so lucky to have another son. A sweet boy I will love with every ounce of who I am.

He has made everything beautiful in its time. (Ecclesiastes 3:11) 

Welcome to the world, Ryder Thomas. You are so, so loved.

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