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kryptsune · 4 years ago

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World Building Wednesday! ~Felldritch

🌼I got a request to do a WBW for Felldritch and since there have been updates to the overall world and lore I wanted to make sure this was all in a nice little package! If you have questions and want to learn more let me know the ask box is always open! So let's get started! Oh and here is a link to the fic! FELLDRITCH

Felldritch

Classification: HorrorFELL

Cult Alternate “Nicknames”:

Red: Saw Boss: Corvus

Gaster: Sephtis

Asriel: Saber Toriel: Ameria

Asgore: Kirnon

Undyne: Ryx Alphys: Vesh Muffet: Carmilla Grillby: Noire MTT: Faust

Doggo: Croix

Riverperson: Bastet (Tet)

Main Plot Synop: Felldritch takes place after a pacifist run by Frisk. The story briefly goes as follows. Frisk ends up in the Underworld (Underground) and befriends the monsters and wants to set them free. It is basically a way watered down version of WTU in essence. Once reaching the end of her journey the monsters refuse to let her be that final soul. They would rather wait and figure out something else but with her Determination she promises to return to them and set them free. At this point in time she is around 18-19. Asriel sacrifices himself to that end to see her leave through the barrier only for the humans to capture the poor girl after she leaves. They conclude that she is not mentally stable due to her insistence that monsters are real and throw her into an asylum/sanitarium to be “treated”. Nearly 5+ years later and she manages to escape finding herself once again in the Underworld only it is far different from what she remembers. At this point, she is questioning whether anything is real or not. After being “treated” for so long she doesn’t quite know which reality is the true one. As Red (aka Saw) points out:

The Brothers:

Red: The younger brother of the two. His attachment to Frisk stems into more of a relationship though he blames himself for loosing her all those years ago. This psychological state causes him to throw himself into the problem that is befalling their world. At first nothing seems to combat this intrusive forest and horrifying beasts but he learns to utilize his magic in a different way. Prior to this he is what one would think of a a Red type but after meeting Frisk he promises to not only change his heart but also the hearts of others. Instead of destructive magical ability he follows in his brothers footsteps and takes up healing practice.

In the world he is known as the merchant, the one that tends to give out healing items in exchange for coin but the bulk of his business relies on talismans or charms to ward off the evil plaguing their home. As far as they all know these magically infused charms are powerful and have incredible protective capabilities. He runs a wagon that travels around the entire Underworld.

In the current timeline he more sympathetic and empathetic. The concept of Kill or be Killed is no longer a factor. This is mainly about survival and for the most part the other monsters are aware that working together is their best option though their heightened paranoia (validly founded btw) makes it difficult sometimes. His personality is lighthearted on the surface, making jokes, and being a good guy. In a way he reminds me of Jester who tries not to dwell on what is going on but is fully aware of the situation. Red wears a blindfold in public to keep up appearances but he has no vision or eye light problems.

Boss: After Frisk’s departure from the Underworld, Boss, takes her words to heart. Unlike the majority of Fell Pap characterization he is very soft. When he feels his brother no longer needs his guidance he begins to feel purposeless until he learns that like his brother he has the magical ability for healing. As Red is the charm merchant of the two, Boss is the apothecary. His design harkens to plague doctors back in the 17th century. He grows all his own herbs and spices but he is particularly fond of tea. He also wears a blindfold just like Red but unlike Red he does in fact have damage to his left eye socket where the teal color of his eye lights no longer inhabits.

The two combined help their fellow monsters as much as they can but in a world of uncertainty how are you supposed to know who to trust?

Frisk’s Mental Demons: The psychological toll on Frisk is great as she has been told constantly that she made up her time in the Underworld in order to shut herself away into a fantasy world. A world where she had a family… where she is loved and wanted. This happens frequently as the “Doctors” continuously try to refute her experiences or sensations medically. Every time she goes to sleep in the Underworld she ends up back at the Asylum tied down kicking and screaming.

She only wakes up again when she is sedated. Rinse and repeat. The question is… is it real? Or rather which is real. The doctors go on to state that her dark state of mind twisted her original concept behind her “family” making them this eldritch styled horror. He also goes onto explain that the reason she is so drawn and close to Red is that it is her “flirting with death”. That she is accepting that outcome because if she continues to resist treatment she will die and the moment she trusts him in her “fantasy” that will be the end. These kinds of situations happen a lot.

There are also instances when the lines between real and fiction are blurred as Frisk's behavior consists apparently of defensive aggression, auditory, visual, and olfactory hallucination, acute paranoia, anxiety, and PTSD. One such example of this is her apparent psychiatrist, Dr. Cyrus Reycroft, who happens to have an uncanny resemblance to her skeletal friend if he was human.

The Beasts: Felldritch plays off Eldritch horror aka the fear of the unknown. As Frisk reunites with Red she is subjected to a rather concerning conversation in which he explains the situation they are in. He mentions having crossed into an upside down broken and colorless world which drew both himself and his older brother into. It is implied that the two stepped into a dimensional space that was able to then afflict those within their own dimension. Over time the inhabitants begin to go missing and great otherworldly hellish beasts begin appearing. The inhabitants come to the conclusion that these creatures can not afflict you with their corruption if you can not see, hear, or speak in their presence. This mindset has some rather gruesome implications as inhabitants become irrationally desperate mutilating themselves to adhere to the new "See no evil, Speak no evil, Hear no evil”.

The Occult World: The cult as I keep referring to it as is a group of powerful monsters. After the deposition of the King the other monsters begin to become influenced by outside sources. They begin to believe that any fallen humans are the angels of death and because of this they will kill humans on sight, of course, they want to live in denial of their horrible deeds because monster souls are supposed to be made up of love and kindness. Unlike the cult that wishes to break the barrier, the rest want to stay hidden from the beasts above believing that the humans are to blame for all that has happened.

The senses play a huge roll in this idea as the beasts are rumored to be able to use souls like puppets, as in spys, if they are corrupted. It essentially becomes like a hive mind with the main entity being able to see, hear, and speak through those it comes in contact with. It’s no secret that Red is in fact infected by this entity in some form as this is a quote from the fic:

A set of antlers snagged the velvety cape as he worked the metalwork to release its hold on the material around his throat.

Bony fingers tugged on the bunched up fabric and pulled it back, revealing a charcoal grey sweater underneath. It was soft to the touch but just hidden beneath the wool she caught a glimpse of off white colored bone. There were bits and pieces that had been chipped off, knicks, and cuts. Even before they had met Red had some scars especially around his collarbone but that was not what caused her to gasp. His hood remained over his head as if using it to shield his expression from her view, “See?” He flinched when her fingers traced some of the scars.

She didn’t want to appear like she was fearful of what she was witnessing but her fingers quivered, pulling them back toward herself. A soft whimper of a voice left her, “R...Red…” There intertwined with the magically composed vertebrae of his spine were branches. The same deep blackish red wood that plagued this entire forest. It wove itself through the bone engulfing portions of his ribs, twisting it into chilling patterns. If it was allowed to continue its infestation it would crack his ribcage open in a bloodless gaping fissure. She could just make out that gentle white and crimson glow shrouded by the wood. Was that his soul? There was no other explanation.

It looked like the branches were trying to worm their way toward that glowing heart, pierce it, and absorb it into its oily black, almost pulsating bark. That was only one singular aspect of horror that she was now subjected to. Her eyes followed the trail that crept through the bone following the knots and twists that crept up and underneath where his skull attached to his spine.

The grip that he kept on her hand only tightened while the other shifted to pull the hood off his skull. Her eyes widened, reddish-brown irises wavering within a sea of white. A hand rose to land on her mouth, now agape in a silent gasp. She could see the same strange bark that comprised his antlers exited straight out of his skull. There were fractures that radiated from above the temporal portion of his cranium in concentric circles. The same kind of patterning one would see from blunt force trauma. Only this had pushed out the bone externally rather than internally. His sockets no longer contained those ever dulling carmine eye lights as her own eyes traced the hairline cracks along his head. She could not imagine the kind of pain a transformation like that would have caused him. There were places where the bone had tried to heal and suture itself back together, forming around the bark.

Angel of Salvation (a.k.a. The Eldritch Horror)- What the cult has been working toward is summoning their “savior” with the help of the human souls they are bound to. It gives them extra abilities and power. Each within the ranks is bound to a human soul. Their leader ??? wants to use this power to summon an “angel.” It turns out that is actually an unholy amalgamated eldritch beast/god out for blood instead. Humanity will perish and the monsters will take control of the surface once more. That is the reality. (The cult including Red is told otherwise).

#undertale #sans #underfell #papyrus #Felldritch #undertale au #underfell au #kits multiverse #friskys multiverse #concepts #my au #psychological horror #eldritch horror #eldritch #Saw #Corvus #cult aesthetic #Worldbuilding Wednesday AU edition

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carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory · 4 years ago

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The Story of Oil in Western Pennsylvania: What, How, and Why?

by Hannah Smith

I am a fries-on-salad, haluski dinner, dairy farm heritage kind of Western Pennsylvanian. I grew up near Venango and Crawford County and had a rural childhood. I went to a small school with about 300 kids in K-6th grade. Around 4th grade, I remember taking a field trip to Titusville, Pennsylvania. I remember seeing the familiar road signs and buildings as our bus gassed along the back roads. I had family in the Titusville and Oil City area, so it was a familiar route to take with my parents. I remember thinking, even at that young age, that the area looked worn and just, well, tired. But I was too young to grasp how this tired little town’s geology had changed the global economy and course of human history. When I was older, I pursued a degree in geology and began to understand more about my local community.

Our field trip took us to Titusville, Pennsylvania to visit Drake’s Well, the first commercial oil well in the United States. The site is named after the well’s driller, Edwin L. Drake who in 1859 struck oil outside of Titusville for the Seneca Oil Company. The company took the name from the Seneca Nation, one of the original Five Nations of the Haudenosaunee or Iroquois Confederacy, who had long made use of the resource Drake sought by skimming naturally-occurring slicks of petroleum, or unrefined oil, from the surface of local waters. These Indigenous people, who were removed from their native lands in the 1700s, 1800s, and 1900s, did not benefit from the Seneca Oil Company.

In the early 1800s oil was an unwanted by-product from salt wells (wells used to mine salt), and before that, a traditional medicine. In small doses, oil was used to treat respiratory diseases, epilepsy, scabies, and other ailments¹. Even today, chemicals made from the refining of petroleum are responsible for many of our modern medicines. Ointments, antihistamines, antibacterials, cough syrups, and even aspirin are created from chemical reactions created from petrochemicals².

However, the purpose of Drake’s Well was to produce oil for refining into kerosene for lamps, and thereby provide an alternative to the whale oil then used to illuminate homes and workplaces. Salt wells used water to dissolve salt source rock, and then carry the resulting brine through piping to the surface where it would be evaporated to leave salt as a solid residue. Although this method works for producing salt, it was far less efficient for producing oil. Productive oil drilling required new techniques, and one of Drake’s most important innovations was the “drive pipe,” sections of cast iron pipe driven into the shaft to protect the drill bit from water and cave-ins. Through experimentation and innovation, on August 27, 1859, Drake struck oil when his drill reached a depth of 69.5 feet.

While Drake’s Well was not the most productive, or largest oil well, the Titusville site is globally significant because it kick-started the petroleum drilling revolution that eventually changed global economies and environments. While Edwin Drake lived a hard life even after his discovery, he is still considered the father of the modern petroleum practices and industry³.

When my field trip class arrived at the Drake’s Well Museum I remember seeing an odd looking wooden building with an awkward chimney-like structure on one side. We were led through single-file so everyone could get a look at the steel machinery used in the drill, and the pipes that dispersed oil into wooden barrels clustered in the building. In my 10-year-old brain there is no way I could properly fathom that this discovery was related to many of the comforts and conveniences I took for granted in my life, such as cars, heating, electricity, plastics, medicines, and even the asphalt roads that we drove on. Why was Titusville special? More specifically, why did western Pennsylvania have oil in the ground?

From about 490 to 360 million years ago, during the span of geological time known as the Ordovician Period and Devonian Period, most of what is now Pennsylvania was an ocean basin teeming with life. Pre-Appalachian Mountains systems eroded over time and deposited sediment of sand, silt, and mud that mixed on the seafloor with the dead plant material. Currents at the ocean bottom were minimal, leaving the accumulating sediments and organic material relatively undisturbed and oxygen-free. Without oxygen, bacteria that normally break down organic material could not act. A thick, black, anoxic ooze formed, preserving the organic material. Over millions of years, forces caused by plate tectonics generated enough heat and pressure to compact the sediments into rock and “cook” the organic material into petroleum.

If you’re from western Pennsylvania, you’ve probably heard of the Marcellus and Utica shales. The natural gas extracted from these rock units formed in a similar way to petroleum but was subjected to a much longer period of heat and pressure.

With Edwin Drake’s success, and layers of oil-bearing rock relatively close to the surface, Titusville boomed. The year Drake drilled his first oil well, Titusville only had 250 residents. However, by 1865 the population increased to 10,000. Nearby Pithole City, now a ghost town, had 50 hotels during the oil peak of the area around 1866. This boom was short lived as other drilling companies began operations in the area and excess production lowered oil prices. Companies picked up to look elsewhere almost as quickly as they appeared⁵. While Titusville boomed and busted, the oil industry itself was growing. Drake drilled for a product to compete with whale oil, but the oil industry underwent phenomenal growth because the demand for its product grew as a lubricant for engines and many other types of machines, a resource for heating on a distributed scale, and as a refined fuel for developing motorized vehicles. Two World Wars during the first half of the 20th Century and the population explosion of the 1950s further increased demand for petroleum. During the Century’s latter half advancements in oil drilling technology made ocean drilling platforms a reality, and with them an increase in oil production as well as an increase in negative impacts due to devastating oil spills.

As of 2016, the world consumed over 97 million barrels daily⁶. So what does combusting 97 million barrels of oil a day, a resource from below the surface, mean for the Earth’s atmosphere? The burning of fossil fuels produces greenhouse gases such as carbon dioxide, methane, nitrous oxide, and fluorinated gases. Greenhouse gases absorb heat from the sun that the earth’s surface reflects back out into the atmosphere, similar to how a blanket traps in body heat. Burning fossil fuels causes climate change by increasing the total amount of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere, thickening the “blanket” around the earth, and increasing the global average temperature. According to the International Energy Agency (IEA), in 2019 greenhouse gas CO₂ emissions totaled 33 gigatons, or 1 billion metric tons, or about the weight of 1.5 billion school buses⁸. Climate change is responsible for increased frequency and severity of weather disasters, wildfires, and flooding, to name a few negative impacts. The abundant CO₂ in our atmosphere equilibrates with and diffuses into our oceans, causing the water to become more acidic and eroding the calcium carbonate structures of coral and other marine organisms. Climate change does not just affect wildlife, it also affects the lives of Pennsylvanians. In Pennsylvania climate change is likely to lead to increasing home insurance rates, higher taxes to replace infrastructure, longer allergy seasons, increasing heat stroke rates in citizens, rising food costs due to crops damaged by erratic weather and higher temperatures, and decreasing water quality and availability due to large storms causing water contamination⁷.

Early organisms were buried by sediment 488 to 360 million years ago and altered into petroleum by heat and pressure. For thousands of years, Earth’s petroleum reserves were largely untouched. Innovator Edwin Drake changed petroleum’s role by successfully drilling the first commercial oil well in North America that August day in 1859. Petroleum became a global commodity, eventually fueling a fast paced modern life. Now in the 21st century, the burning of fossil fuels, such as petroleum, is causing worldwide rapid climate change.

When I was on that field trip to Drake’s Well in 4th grade, we did not discuss the global or local implications of petroleum. This resource is responsible for many of the day to day conveniences that have come to define contemporary life, but it also feeds environmental change that is forcing a “new normal,” and will cause an existential threat to humanity. I could not have fathomed that this global resource had its start in my own family’s backyard. I think that Drake’s Well is a good reminder that Earth-changing innovations can happen anywhere. I don’t think Drake could have predicted the scale to which his discovery would change society and the environment over the next 160 years, in the same way that most people do not realize how their small individual actions are affecting the larger social-ecological systems, and sustainability of all life on Earth. Although individual actions can negatively affect Earth, they can also be positive. Who knows, the next innovation to combat anthropogenic climate change may be happening in your backyard. Wind and solar farms have been developing and growing throughout Pennsylvania since 2007, providing an alternative option for electric energy use.

I started having more appreciation for the Earth Sciences as I got older. This eventually led me to obtaining a bachelor’s degree in geology, interning with the National Park Service at the Hagerman Fossil Beds in Idaho, and working in mapping for a few years before returning to school for illustration and design in hopes to marry the sciences and arts together. While obtaining my geology degree I met my now husband who has a Master’s in Structural Geology, and worked in the natural gas field for five years before making the switch to environmental geology. Our family's income was supported by the fossil fuels industry for a time, and therefore we understand a decent amount of the ethics and controversy that is in the industry. However we are both very invested in the earth sciences and look forward to more sustainable tech preserving a better environment for the future.

Hannah Smith is an intern in the Section of Anthropocene Studies. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

References:

1 Early Medicinal Uses of Petroleum 2015

https://daily.jstor.org/petroleum-used-medicine/

2 Modern Uses for Petroleum in Medicine 2019

https://context.capp.ca/articles/2019/feature_petroleum-in-real-life_pills

3 Drake’s Well History of Petroleum 2016

https://www.aoghs.org/petroleum-pioneers/american-oil-history/

4 Description of petroleum formation 2014

http://elibrary.dcnr.pa.gov/GetDocument?docId=1752503&DocName=ES8_Oil-Gas_Pa.pdf

5 The boom and bust cycle of the oil industry 2015

https://www.nytimes.com/2015/04/23/business/energy-environment/oil-makes-a-comeback-in-pennsylvania.html

6 World Oil Statistics 2016-Current

https://www.worldometers.info/oil/

7 List of the Effects of Climate Change on People and how to protect yourself 2019

https://blogs.ei.columbia.edu/2019/12/27/climate-change-impacts-everyone/

8 International Energy Agency 2019

https://www.iea.org/articles/global-co2-emissions-in-2019

9 Drake’s Well Museum

https://www.drakewell.org/

10 Seneca-Iroquois National Museum

https://www.senecamuseum.org/

11 Seneca Nation Oil Process in New York State

https://nyhistoric.com/2013/10/seneca-oil-spring/

#Carnegie Museum of Natural History #Drakes Well #Pennsylvania #Oil #Petroleum #Fossil Fuels #Anthropocene #Climate Change

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kindahoping4forever · 4 years ago

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Call Out My Name Like Lines From A Page // Calum Hood

I was blessed with this concept by an anon a couple weeks ago and almost immediately had to stop what I was doing to write it. Clownery in its purest form. Thank you for sharing, anon. And thanks to my fav Cal girl @cal-puddies for the advice (which for this piece was mainly yelling at me to finish it but still.)

Warnings: Boyfriend!Cal, shades of soft dom!Cal, manual and oral stimulation of a female, male masturbation, slight cumplay, this is basically PWP, ngl

Word Count: 2400

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let me know what you think!

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“Hey, pretty girl, I didn’t think you’d still be up.”

It’s late when Calum walks into the bedroom, after a long day in the studio led to a late night blowing off steam at a bar downtown.

“Honestly didn’t mean to be, just got caught up reading,” you shrug, holding up your dog-eared paperback for him to see.

“Aw, well thanks for makin’ me feel special, love,” he jokes, leaning in to give you a kiss on his way to the bathroom.

You playfully bite his lip as he pulls away. “You know I didn’t mean it like that, needy,” you tease.

While Cal takes a quick shower, you get up, take your teacup to the sink and turn off the lights you’d left on in the living room for him. When you get back to the bedroom, he’s sprawled out on the bed in his black tank and grey sweatpants, reading the back of your book.

“Looks good,” he comments as you climb in next to him. “You know what’s also lookin’ good right about now…” He exaggeratedly raises his eyebrows in approval of the sight of you wearing only panties and one of his t-shirts; he reaches over and slides a hand up and down your bare thigh to test the waters.

You smirk at him. “Are you ever going to be able to go out and get tipsy without wanting to come home and eat me out?

“Oh, I come home wanting to get between your legs even when I’m stone cold sober, baby,” he replies, pecking at your neck, hand traveling higher to brush against your clothed center.

You giggle, basking in his attention for a minute and then wriggle away from him. “I was actually hoping to finish my chapter before bed, babe,” you admit.

“I’ll wait,” he declares, passing the book to you.

You grin at his persistence. “It’s late.”

“You’ll stay up,” he insists, laying back with a cheeky smile.

You chuckle and resume your reading while Calum pulls out his phone and starts mindlessly scrolling. One hand remains stroking your thigh and you feel his eyes on you every so often and you have to admit, you like it; when he’s like this it makes you feel an irresistible combination of loved, desired and powerful.

You’re surprised that you actually get close to three pages read before his hand starts wandering again. Your eyes flicker over to him but his gaze stays fixed on his phone, as if the hand currently rubbing you over your panties has a mind of its own.

You are able to stay focused on the words in front of you for a few more paragraphs, until Cal’s hand slides beneath your panties and starts making contact with you; his fingers dip in and out of your wet folds, lightly tracing the geography of your pussy and you involuntarily rock your hips against them, looking for friction.

“Thought you said you could wait for me to finish my book, baby,” you complain playfully.

He brings his hand away from your thighs and turns to face you as he raises his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. “I know a busy woman like you appreciates a good multi-task,” he shrugs.

You bite your lip at his boldness and tentatively return to your reading. He keeps to himself for a minute or two and then suddenly his hand is nonchalantly inside your underwear again. “I have less than 10 pages left, Cal,” you laugh.

“Sounds great, baby, take your time,” he nods casually, as he presses on your clit, causing you to jump.

Your voice is shaky as you say, “Instead of stretching out my panties, you can take them off, you know.”

He looks at you, amused. “Thought you said you wanted to finish your book,” he teases, pulling the material down and off your legs.

“Who said I wasn’t going to?” You fire back, eyes glowing.

Calum laughs in a delighted, low tone that goes straight to your core and moves to lay between your legs. “Fair point, love.” He traces a finger from your knee down your thigh, to just over the lips of your pussy. “We’ll see what gets finished first, you or that chapter.”

You raise the book to your face once again and try your best to focus despite his light strokes up and down your center. He’s having fun messing with you and that’s turning you on almost as much as his touches. You decide to push his buttons right back and quickly rid yourself of your shirt. He looks up to see you with your book in one hand and your breast in the other, tugging at your nipples. He groans.

Your brain manages to process some more words on the page and just as you’re about to turn it, you feel Cal’s tongue on you, licking a long stripe up your center. You shudder but keep reading. Unsatisfied with your reaction, he does it again; only this time, when he reaches your clit, he sucks it between his lips and you cry out. You feel him smile against you as he pulls back and goes back to tracing your skin with his fingertips.

This dance continues for the next few minutes: you gain your composure and keep reading, he teases you by slowly grazing his digits across your folds and just when it feels like you’ve gotten used to that, his mouth suddenly makes its move.

You’ve been staring at the same sentence for what feels like forever now and Cal’s mouth is firmly attached to your clit, swirling and suckling. You notice the hand that had been bruisingly gripping your thigh isn’t there anymore and you peer over your book to see he’s shifted his body so that he can get a hand on his cock. You assumed he had been rutting up against the bed, he usually can’t help it when he goes down on you, but you still moan when you see the tell-tale wet spot on his sweatpants.

“Cal…” you breathe, setting your book down to thread your fingers through his hair. “I give up… fuck… just want you to make me cum.”

He pulls away from you. “I don’t know, baby, that chapter seemed really important to you, I wouldn’t want you to be left wondering,” he says with a slight edge to his voice. He gets up and looks directly at you as he strips off his clothes and wraps his hand around his cock. “Keep reading and I’ll let you cum.”

You whine in frustration and he scowls at you with disdain; Cal doesn’t get like this too often, usually after a stressful day, sometimes after a night out. It’s undeniably hot, especially when the memories flood your mind during the months you’re alone while he’s on tour, but in the moment it’s unbearable.

He gets back on the bed and gets next to you, on his knees; he purposefully strokes his cock in front of you and leans down to let the precum he’s just teased out fall onto your nipples. You suck your lip and start pawing at your breasts but he swats your hands away and reaches over to pick up your book and shove it in your hands before crawling back between your legs.

Calum nips at your thighs, waiting for you to resume your task before he’ll resume his. You impatiently buck your hips and lament, “Baby, please, I shouldn’t have made you wait.”

He shakes his head and shifts again so you can see him touching himself. “That doesn’t look like you reading, does it, pretty girl?” He groans as he teases over the head of his cock. “Told you I could wait for you then, I can still wait now.”

You grumble and hold your book up, hands shaking as you turn the pages to find your place. He purrs his approval and licks a long stripe up your pussy as a reward. You try to continue and do what he asks but he’s devoting all of his attention to you now, tongue alternating between dipping inside your entrance and dancing around your clit. Just when you’ve started to recover from one sensation, he switches it up and your entire body trembles.

You realize you’ve been on this particular page for quite a long time and have absorbed none of it; your lust-addled brain tells you there’s no way Cal could possibly know that though and you turn the page anyways, hoping he’ll reward your progress and let you cum.

A glimmer of hope shoots through you as he lifts his head up and coos, “Another page? Great job, baby.” A knowing look spreads across his face as he sinks back down to you and growls, “Now read to me.”

Dread and confusion washes over you. “Cal… no,” you whimper.

He shrugs at you. “Seems like such a good book, I’d like to hear some of it, please,” he says in an even tone, as if he isn’t currently squeezing his cock. “It’s had no problem holding your attention so far.”

You take a breath and start to read aloud. It takes a couple of tries for you to make any sound, your throat is so fucking dry. Every sentence comes out in a voice that’s not your own, every word is a struggle, every letter looks like an unknown alien symbol. You could be making this all up off the top of your head for all you know, it feels like you’re speaking in tongues.

Calum makes good on his word and continues to eat you out dutifully as you move swiftly through the book; a moan escapes you every now and again and whenever he applies suction to your clit, you let out a series of gasps that you fear will make him stop and reprimand you, but he never does. You can tell he’s getting desperate too, you can feel him grunting against you as he works.

Your voice is barely audible as you announce, “Cal… babe… laaa… last page…”

He looks up at you, fire in his eyes, your wetness on his face. “Doing so good for me, baby,” he praises, panting almost as much as you are. “Let me have it.”

You’ve never read faster in your life; your eyes fly over the page and you’re speaking at a lightning pace. You’re actively thrusting against Cal’s mouth now but he’s beyond the point of caring, he needs you to cum too. You see him rocking his hips against the bed, cock shiny, angry and longing for attention. He openly moans as he prepares to finally bring you over the edge, lips attaching to your clit and not intending to let go until you finish.

You choke out the final few words and fling the book across the bed, hands rushing to dig into Cal’s hair. Now that you’re able to be fully focused on his actions, you can feel your climax building with great intensity. One long whine is all you’re able to manage as your orgasm plows through you; your hips thrash wildly against his face, you tense up so hard your body seems to fold in on itself and you squeeze your eyes shut so tight you can see stars.

He licks you through it, murmuring in encouragement; he pulls away at the first sign of oversensitivity but he lingers around your thighs, pampering you with soft kisses and reassuring tones. As soon as your body starts to relax and your breathing slows, he’s sitting up and frantically tugging at his cock.

You’re absolutely spent from what you’ve just experienced but the sight of your boyfriend so desperate to get himself off just from pleasuring you has you immediately feeling needy again. You can’t seem to find your words yet so you just whimper and reach for him.

Cal gets next to you, hand working his shaft relentlessly; he’s breathing in that pronounced way that tells you it won’t be long before he’s finished. He starts to lean in and you sit up on your elbows to meet him halfway, kissing him hungrily. You don’t want to disrupt the rhythm he has going on his cock so you scratch your nails up and down his thigh, which makes him groan into your mouth.

His hand speeds up as he starts panting your name and that needy feeling washes over you again. You get his attention by squeezing his thigh; he opens his eyes to see you sitting there with your mouth open, tongue out, waiting to be filled with his cum.

“I fucking love you, baby,” he sighs as he scoots closer. He lays the head of his cock on your tongue and gives himself just a few more strokes before you feel warm cum shooting across your mouth. He moans as he slows his pace but maintains a firm grip, making sure he gives you every drop he has. You’ve earned it.

Once he’s finished, he drops his hand and his head and lets out a giant sigh. Before he can pull back, you make quick work of taking him into your mouth under the guise of cleaning him up; really, you just wanted to taste him for even a minute longer.

Calum murmurs in protest and pulls away, collapsing onto the pillow next to you; he pulls you into him and you rest your head on his chest. You lay there for a few minutes, listening to each other’s breathing, enjoying the comfortable silence you often find yourselves in after being intimate.

“Never been more proud to be such an avid reader,” you joke, pressing a kiss to his chest tattoo.

He lets out that surprised raspy laugh you love that always happens when he’s tired. “Lucky my girl’s such a nerd,” he teases, squeezing you close.

Cal sits up and reaches across the bed to retrieve your discarded book. You watch curiously as he pats around the sheets and glances at the floor before he hands it to you and says sheepishly, “Sorry, baby, dunno where your bookmark ended up. Looks like we lost your page.”

A wide grin spreads across your face as you take the book and pull him back down to you. “I don’t think I’ll mind starting back from the beginning.”

—-

My tag list is breaking my posts atm so apologies if you get tagged more than once/don’t get tagged at all while I figure out what the problem is!

—-

@mymindwide @suchalonelysunflower @pxrxmoore @loveroflrh @ghostofmashton @sexgodashton @feliznavidaddycal @castaway-cashton @boomerash @cashtonasfuck @megz1985 @ashdork-irwin @ashtonangst @angelicfluffs @findingliam-o @abadaftertaste @myloverboyash @youngbloodchild @irwinsbetch @ashsun @everyscarisahealingplace

@wiildflower-xxx @metalandboybands @another-lonely-heart @realisticnotes @makeamovehemmings @ashtondaddy90 @golden166 @burstintocolor @mfartzzz @babyoria @saphseoul @petunias-pet @youngblood199456 @notinthesameguey @seanna313 @calumftduke @zhangyixingxing1 @stardust-galaxies @zackoid

@queenalienscherrypie @lovelybonesetc @Obey-Kaylin @xsongxbirdx @justhereforcalum

@laura66sos @calumrose @karajaynetoday @pilunb @mauriemiller @jazzyangel242 @babylon-corgis @afiforeverx @The-divine-femme @heyheyhaleyd @calmsweetcreature @babylonhfk

Click here if you’d like to be tagged for future fics and click here if your name is on my list but crossed out (Tumblr won’t let me @ you)

#5sos smut #calum hood smut #calum smut #calum hood fic #5 seconds of summer smut #kindahoping4forever #smut #kh4f fic #Call Out My Name Like Lines From A Page #kh4f requested #shouts to this anon I really was inspired by this lol #popped out about 1k of this in one sitting #honestly tho what a dream am i right #not since the Pizza Hut book club has reading been so rewarding for a person #Feedback is appreciated #thank you for reading!!!

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olivinesea · 4 years ago

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In the Golden Dark, pt. 2

Part 1

a/n: This was already pretty much done so here you go. These parts are all rather short but that can be nice right? ~1.6k

i can’t concentrate if i keep seeing your face showing up in tea leaves lit up on my tv i can’t stand up straight under your gravity so i lay awake with my eyes closed

“Did you know 12% of people dream in black and white?”

“Wha-what?” Hotch groggily looked at the time on his phone. He had answered it blindly, autopilot kicking in to attend to the buzzing beside him on the couch. He blinked again and brought the phone back to his ear to hear Spencer’s voice more clearly.

“Yeah! It used to be a lot more when television was only in black and white but now that’s shifted obviously. Elderly people are still a lot more likely to have dreams that are—“

“Spencer,” Hotch interrupted the way the words were beginning to tumble out. When he was met with an abrupt silence he realized he didn’t have a follow up, he just needed a moment to breathe. To take in the dark living room, the flickering light of the television, its muted colors and grainy film showing a syndicated rerun, the kind only played in the middle of the night or the middle of the day, times when no productive person was meant to be watching. Something soft in its age, he found it comforting to put it on when he couldn’t sleep, woken again by nightmares that some monster had found their way to Haley and Jack. That they were suffering and he didn’t even know.

On the other end of the line, Spencer held his breath. He had been nervous about making the call, he wasn’t sure if it was too intrusive, too far across the boundaries they normally worked within. It wasn’t that he was worried about waking Hotch, he knew the other man was already awake. Even before they had started talking more, casually sharing details about the time they spent away from the office, it was obvious that Hotch did not sleep like a normal person. It was something else that they shared.

Seemingly endless minutes passed without another word from either man and his fear that he’d made a mistake grew. He told himself that Hotch was not pleased with the interruption. That he was being too assuming—why would Hotch be interested in anything he had to say at three in the morning? He’d called spurred on by the acute need to share a thought and, though he wasn’t totally conscious of it, a wish to hear that comforting voice, maybe even a quiet chuckle. He had smiled imagining that gentle sound, only he hadn’t realized it, the corners of his mouth moving without informing the rest of his mind. He touched his lips now with cold fingertips, running them over the dry skin, oblivious to the way his jaw clenched.

The silence between them hung like a bridge. There was a moment where both of them looked out at their respective living rooms, mentally steeling themselves to take a step and hope the other would meet them. Hope that they wouldn’t find themselves suspended over the water, alone as ever.

“I’m sorry for calling so late,” Spencer sounded so remorseful Hotch felt guilty immediately. He hadn’t meant cause him any anxiety with his long silence, he was just trying his best to gather his thoughts. To make sense of what he meant to do.

“It’s ok, really, I—“ Hotch hesitated, unsure how much detail to go into, how much reassurance was the right amount. He felt unreasonably awkward suddenly and twitched his fingers in irritation, “I wasn’t really sleeping anyway.”

“Really?” Spencer scrunched his eyes up, disliking the eagerness bleeding from his voice. He couldn’t help it though, the prospect of having the other man’s attention, even if it was only his voice reflecting from a satellite, knowing that Hotch was listening made him feel more secure. He’d spent too many restless nights pacing his apartment, starting and abandoning tasks in attempts to distract himself from the way the night was pressing uncomfortably close, threatening to overtake his mind. To have a friend to talk to, to reflect back his own reality, was a gift he could barely believe he deserved.

Hotch grunted as he adjusted himself on the couch cushions, supporting the back of his head on the pillows, resting the phone between his shoulder and ear. With his free hand he pulled up the blanket that had tangled at his feet. “Wide awake,” he said dryly. “What were you saying about dreams?”

Spencer’s smile was so big Hotch could hear it through the phone as the man stumbled ahead with the details of some completely unnecessary study. Hotch wanted to ask what had led to him reading such a thing but he was enjoying the happy way Spencer was running through all the new material he’d learned. He adored listening to Spencer speak, how he sometimes stopped short when remembering a related detail and how there’d be a pause while he took a split second to make the choice whether to jump to the new train of thought. Hotch smiled to himself and was pleased enough to offer hums of interest at inflection points. He let his eyes wander back to the television, as the title credits of another episode of Bonanza played across the screen, the pale wheat and horses and cowboys, already a distant fantasy in the 1960s, ancient history by today’s standards. His eyes fell half closed as he continued to listen to Reid’s voice.

“And, they just published a new study about how sleep deprivation decreases the body’s pain tolerance.”

Hotch snorted softly at this. “They really had to get a bunch of scientists together to figure that out? Someone paid for that?”

“Well it is always important to gather data and scientific evidence for these types of things. Anecdotal testimony won’t lead to any developments in the care for conditions like chronic pain,” Reid paused when he heard more quiet laughter from Aaron. He grinned.

“Do you want to hear something really crazy? They’ve found a connection between a person’s favorite sleeping position and their personality. Can you imagine!”

“Hmmph,” Hotch sank deeper into the cushions, settling in for whatever came next.

The calls became as regular as the midnight pancakes. Spencer would call with some piece of trivia, every night a new topic. He had a seemingly endless well of knowledge to draw on. In truth he spent the day trying to think of new ideas to share, new information he thought Hotch would appreciate. For no reason other than his own private satisfaction, he grouped topics thematically. This week they were going to be talking about space.

Now Hotch was ready, drowsy but checking his phone every few minutes to see if he’d somehow missed it ringing. He was looking at it yet again when it buzzed. He stared at the screen for a moment before answering, letting the name that flashed send a small thrill up his spine. He was not sure how it’d happened but he had come to rely on these calls. They still hadn’t discussed it, hadn’t acknowledged what this extracurricular time spent together might mean. They were simply seeking comfort, not questioning how this might be perceived outside these invisible moments.

“Hey Spence,” he barely got the words out before Spencer launched into that night’s prepared curiosities.

“Did you know most of the visible stars are actually multiple star systems? The singular stars are so much harder to see that astronomers used to believe that it was fairly uncommon to find a singular star like our sun.They hypothesized this was a contributing factor to why we hadn’t found evidence of extraterrestrial life. It is much harder for a planet to have the stability necessary for a habitable atmosphere with the potential fluctuations of a binary star system. Without as many single stars it made sense that it was exceedingly unlikely for life to form outside of our solar system.”

“I think it’d be nice,” Hotch murmured, not really thinking about what he was saying.

“What’s that?”

“Oh, ah,” Hotch stammered, a little embarrassed to have the comment acknowledged. He felt his neck growing warm as he tried to make out a reply. “Well, having two suns. I think it could be nice."  “Why?” Spencer was genuinely curious.

“Um, I guess, I imagine it would be warmer for one,” he paused before adding on, waiting to see what Spencer’s reaction might be. He could almost hear the wheels of his mind turning with all the reasons Hotch’s logic was faulty. He hurried on before he became too self-conscious to finish his thought. “And, I’ve just never really liked the night, all the darkness. Maybe with two suns we could have a little more light in the world.”

Instead of responding, Spencer remained quiet, surprised by this uncharacteristically whimsical thought. Hotch could feel his whole neck had turned red, along with the warming tips of his ears.

“I—I don’t really like the night either,” he tried to sympathize. “It can feel…overwhelming.”

They sat for a moment, not sure where to take this or how the facts had turned into feelings.

“I’m happy I have you to talk to though.”

It was simple, but it was true and sweet and Hotch smiled, closing his eyes to better absorb the words.

“I’m happy too, Spencer.”

Now they were both blushing, the depth of meaning behind these brief statements readily apparent. For a moment, feeling the heat dancing across his face, Hotch wondered if this wasn’t a mistake. Maybe he was allowing things to become something irresponsible, something he couldn’t so easily walk back. He pictured Spencer, sitting across from him, animated and full of life, pulling further away from the shadows that teased around the edges. It didn’t matter, he decided. It didn’t matter what this was, only that they had found a hand to hold through the night.

“So, what else have you got for me?”

~Part 3~

#Criminal Minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #hotchreid #fluff

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ramblinganthropologist · 3 years ago

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Headache Relief

Summary: Alistair Shepard’s got one hell of a headache and the medicine ain’t helping. Lucky for him, he’s got another relief option. Problem is he didn’t expect to see Garrus Vakarian involved with that. Fuck, maybe he should’ve taken a double dose after all...

---

There were times Alistair was glad to be human. This wasn’t one of them.

“Fuck…”

The expletive leaked from between his teeth as he stepped off the elevator and into his private quarters. Right then he was running on instinct, heading towards his desk and the drawer that held his only chance of functioning at a lumbering pace. At least he didn’t hit the wall as he slumped down to dig – that was a nice bonus.

The bottle of pills hidden under some paper was half full. He shook two out, swallowing them with a bit of the water he always kept on his desk for that reason. Then it was straight to his bed. The only thing he remembered to do was click off the light as he collapsed face down into his pillow.

Biotic headaches: L2s might have gotten them the worst, but everyone had to face them eventually. Consider it the cost of doing business.

Colors bloomed behind the man’s eyes as he waited and prayed for the medicine to take effect. Part of him knew his chances were slim – his headache had started on the shuttle, so he was clearly out of the full range of help. Still, even if it took the edge off, he could function in an hour or so. At that point it was all Alistair could hope for as he felt the pain pulse.

Yep… he had definitely overdone it with the biotics. Simple mission, his pale and freckled ass.

“You think Miranda would have reinforced that.” His words came out low as he muttered them into his pillow. No doubt the camera she had planted in his room would pick it up, and frankly he didn’t care. It was another point of data that was going to go on his report of things she had messed up bringing him back to life. Was it petty to have a list of complaints with the person who brought him back from the dead?

Probably, but who cared. She’d left him with a functioning uterus, she could deal with the fallout.

At least it gave him something to focus on as he lay there in the dark, begging for some relief from the little pills. Thanks to his medic training, he knew how long it would take for the medicine to absorb into his system. Experience was an even better teacher, however – his biotics would make it go even faster.

It was weird – they were the reason he was taking the medicine, but they were also the reason it worked faster to relieve the pain. Talk about a catch-22.

Alistair laid there for what felt like an eternity, pain still throbbing against his temples. The soft glow of his omni-tool told him enough time had passed that the pills should have worked. Much to his immense displeasure, he still felt the majority of the pain as he rolled over onto his side.

In times like this, there was only one other hope of relief.

Slowly, the biotic rose to a sitting position, head still pounding. He went for the small table beside his bed, digging through the contents. Eventually, he found what he was looking for, buried towards the back. It took a few seconds more, but he pulled it free into the darkness of his quarters.

“Well… at least I don’t have to clean the one in my toolbox for its intended use.” Alistair grumbled to himself as he flicked his vibrator on to make sure it had enough power. He quietly thanked the universe that it buzzed to life as he clumsily unbuckled his belt, then slid out of his pants and upper layer of boxers. At some point, his packer slipped and hit the ground, but he didn’t care. Right then, it was in the way of pulling down his inner layer of underwear.

He lay back on his pillow, naked from the waist down. Usually, he would pull his blanket over so the Illusive Man didn’t get a show, but right then his brain was overriding whatever sense of shame he had left in him. The bastard could get what he paid for as he flicked the power to a medium setting and then applied it. The vibration soon started to flood through his body as he closed his eyes and waited.

This was always the most boring part. Unlike most people, Alistair didn’t watch porn. He didn’t see anything wrong with it, mind you, he just had no interest. The one time he had tried, he had wound up trying to piece together how it had been edited during one of the more heated moments between the actors on screen. By the time he had realized he had been trying to masturbate, his vibrator had long since died and he was long beyond his occasional need to get off.

Such was the fate of one on the asexual spectrum, he supposed.

“Damn it, can’t this go any faster?”

Alistair grumbled as he flicked the setting a little higher than he normally preferred. Then he shifted positions, pressing it a little harder in the hopes that might do something. The sensation was definitely building in his stomach, but it wasn’t nearly to the point he needed.

He sighed, closing his eyes once more. This was probably the point people made something up if they had nothing to watch. He had certainly tried in the past, particularly in his teens. However, those flimsy fantasies never really held up, and more often than not faded to the blackness of the inside of his eyelids within a few seconds. Whether that was because it didn’t work or he was just really bad at constructing sexy scenarios, he didn’t know.

At least it would be able to distract him while he waited for the vibrator to do its thing…

“Come on, think. You’re surrounded by muscular men literally every day, you have to have something in there to work with.”

Of course, those people were under him now. It made it a little hard to picture anyone like them… under him. Such was the downside of being a commanding officer: anyone on ship was off limits.

…

Well, technically he WAS still considered dead by the Alliance…

“I am only considering this because I need something to focus on other than the damn ceiling.”

Alistair sighed as he did his best to try and imagine someone based on the people around him. Like always, a body slowly materialized with plenty of muscle underneath him, fully erect and ready to go. It didn’t have a face – it never did, thank God – and something about the skin seemed rather plastic-like. More importantly… they were kind of a dead fish. Even as he imagined himself lowering onto the dick, there was no reaction.

It was because he was still a virgin, wasn’t it? He knew he should’ve paid more attention to that porn, but could you blame him? He just HAD to know what kind of camera they were using to film the climax scenes, it worked so well in low light…

“Damn it, Alistair, fucking focus on the fucking…”

But it was no good – the plastic body remained lukewarm, vaguely thrusting in time with the vibrator pressed against his oft ignored clit. He was right back to where he had started, and his head still pounded. Sighing, Alistair shut off his vibrator and sat up. As soon as he did, his omni-tool began to beep.

54.

“Great. My head hurts, and I’m hypo.” He didn’t bother with fitting his packer back into his underwear. Instead, the Spectre grabbed his boxers and padded over to his emergency sugar supply. A small pile of pixie stick wrappers soon formed as he tried not to mope too much about his inability to fix his headache. At least the sugar made his lips stop feeling numb, but it wasn’t like he had to use them right then.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and dislodging the rubber band holding it back in the process. “Guess I’ll just try to sleep it off without the added headache relief.”

That was the great thing about being on the ace side of life – no lingering horniness thanks to his inept abilities.

With another sigh, Alistair made his way back to his bed. This time, he slid under the covers and closed his eyes. His head still pounded, but in the quiet of his quarters he found it a little easier to slip into sleep.

---

“Commander…”

“Vakarian, keep on. That’s an order.”

The body beneath him was hot, almost uncomfortably so. Without skin, the surface was hard and a little rocky where plates joined together. It was a little slick too, and not just because of the lube – carapaces were a fucking slip and slide in the bedroom if you weren’t ready for the angles. It was a little uncomfortable, but with positioning - and a little flexibility - things went where they needed to go.

The turian’s eyes were cloudy with blown pupils. He was breathing hard, grasping at the sheets. His erection had long since shown itself, now buried deep. When he rubbed against it, the collision of their hips made him whimper.

“I can’t hold it much longer…”

He smirked and leaned closed to the strange neck ahead of him, lips barely ghosting against the hard skin. “Are you giving out on me, Vakarian?”

“N-no, sir…” He was panting, trying to rub. But there would be none of that. Alistair shifted his position to make sure he couldn’t find the relief. Beneath him, Garrus whimpered again, and his mandibles fluttered once more.

It was here that he took his time, carefully biting at the sensitive parts of the turian’s neck. The whimpering got so high pitched that the translator couldn’t work with it anymore, and his natural voice broke through. There was something primal about it, and even though he didn’t have full command of the words, it was enough to get him to smirk as he stopped biting and ran a carful finger between two plates.

“What was that?”

Garrus’ voice was breathy when the translator finally kicked in. “N-nothing, sir…”

His grip was iron on the sheets, and his entire body was trembling. There was the point of climax, and then there it was past it. Clearly, he was edging towards the latter. Alistair nodded as he shifted his position, lowering a bit more. Beneath him, Garrus whimpered again.

“You know what you have to say, Vakarian.”

The turian took a shaky breath, eyes so wide they reminded him of a cat. “Yes, Commander…”

Another shaky breath. “Permission to come aboard?”

It was at this point that Alistair shifted again, fully lowering himself against the turian’s sensitive member, nudging his head close to where he heard best. “Permission granted, Vakarian.”

With that, he rubbed the space between plates one last time, working a nail into right where it was the most sensitive. Beneath him, Garrus shuddered as he finally climaxed, his entire body shaking from the force. All the while, he held on, feeling the vibrations and pulse of the turian’s orgasm.

It was at this point he rolled off to protect himself from the withdrawal. The bad thing about turians was that their anatomy was all internal, regardless of gender. That meant Garrus needed to remove the condom before things got stuck and required an embarrassing visit to a doctor for removal.

“Sir… I…”

Alistair carefully removed the condom for the shaking turian, tossing it to the trash. “Can’t have you out of service, Vakarian.”

“Thank you…” Garrus’ voice was still shaky and going in and out of the translator, but his eyes were more focused. “And you, sir?”

This was the point the turian’s careful hand reached toward him, pausing. He knew better. But right then, Alistair allowed it with a nod. Cautious talons soon found his clit, already slick from a combination of the lube and his own heat.

Here it was faster. Garrus was a pro at getting him off with careful strokes that avoided the sharp side of his clipped talons. The heat was beginning to pool in Alistair’s stomach once more, but he fought back a grunt.

After all, it wouldn’t do to show that in front of his men.

---

Alistair’s eyes snapped open as he sat up. His head still ached, but it wasn’t really his focus then. A familiar sensation of heat was growing in his stomach as his consciousness slowly filtered in. Without pause, he peeled off both the blanket and his boxers. Just like he thought, he was already wet and close to the point.

Barely breathing, he reached for his vibrator and flicked it on. Garrus’ strained voice and shaking hands were still in his mind as he leaned back and let it work. Just the thought of the turian so close to orgasm and unable to do anything about it caused him to shiver, and it was at that point that it kicked into high gear.

After a few seconds, he climaxed with a shudder and a quiet squeak of a moan. Sweating a little, he turned off the vibrations and just lay there in bed, staring up at the covered ceiling. Someone – probably his sister – had stuck glow in the dark stickers to the dark fabric stretched across the skylight. It looked like Orion’s Belt to him, not that he had ever seen it in person.

…

Yeah, he was definitely trying to avoid this.

“Man, fuck me…”

He sighed. On the bright side, the orgasm had done its job – combined with the medicine, it was easier to think now, and his pounding headache had reduced itself to a dull throb that he could work with. However, now he had a new headache as he sat up to head to the shower.

Garrus’ face was still in his head as he stripped and let the hot water hit his back. Just imagining it made his hand want to wander down from its spot pressed against the wall towards his clit. But he resisted the urge as he shook his head, water flying thanks to his wet hair.

“I can’t believe I went there with him. What the hell am I thinking?”

Alistair rested his forehead against the wall, groaning. This wasn’t the first time he’d had thoughts like this, though it was the first with someone he knew. As much as he hated to admit it, something about that kind of control excited him.

Which, given he was a fucking commanding officer, was a nightmare. It wasn’t like he got off to ordering people around, though; that was business, and he took no pleasure in it. These thoughts just popped up in his private life, in the rare internet searches he did in incognito and made sure his omni-tool was blocking everything out.

“And with Garrus… fuck.”

That was probably the worst part of all as he watched the water circle the drain. Things were better with the turian since they had met up on Omega, but there was being civil and… that. Honestly, it felt awful to him as he played it over again in his mind, closing his eyes tightly.

Awful… but also awfully hot.

His free hand brushed against his thigh, fingers finding his clit. As the water poured down, he rubbed slowly, playing the memory over in his brain. His mind kept focusing on the look on Garrus’ face, on his breathy voice breaking translation. Just imagining him whimpering on the edge of climax with nowhere to go made the heat pool in his stomach. Did the real turian look and sound like that when he was so close to the edge?

“Damn it, Vakarian…”

It came out under his breath in an octave he normally couldn’t hit unless he strained at the bottom of his range. Yet at the moment, it was almost effortless as he replayed the turian underneath him, writhing and unable to do anything about it.

Well, nothing except beg anyway.

Of course, there was a downside to jacking off in the shower. Given the fact he was just standing there, the motion activated lights stopped activating, and he was suddenly in the dark. The quick loss of light was enough to snap him out of the dream and take too quick a step back.

And then on his ass he went.

“Fuck!”

Alistair’s vision swam as he winced, reaching up to turn the water off as his ass throbbed from the force of 140 pounds falling onto it. Nothing felt broken, but there was definitely going to be a bruise once he dried off. Lucky for him, nobody was looking there anyway.

“Shepard, I detected a fall. Are you experiencing hypoglycemic shock?”

EDI’s electronic voice made the whole thing worse as he finally stood, soaking wet and feeling rather stupid. He grabbed for a towel and dried off, wincing as he reached his backside. That one was going to be spectacular.

“I don’t have my omni-tool on, EDI. I’ll let you know in a second.”

A few moments later, with a happy CGM, Alistair sat gingerly at his desk. Now he had two dull throbs to keep him company, along with the reminder of just what the fuck he had been doing a few moments prior. His cheeks colored as he rubbed the towel over his wet hair, trying to block it out.

“Shepard?”

Right, EDI…

“It’s fine, EDI. I just was in there too long and I slipped.” He paused, looking out from under the towel towards the blur orb. “Er, thank you for checking on me.”

What could he say, apart from jacking off to the submissive version of his crewmate, he was a polite man.

The orb clicked off, leaving him to his brooding. Alistair groaned a little as he felt the bruise throb once more. Maybe it was the universe punishing him. Didn’t matter, still fucking hurt as he finished drying off.

“I’m probably going to have to avoid Garrus for a little bit.” He frowned. “Can’t have that happen again. It’d be too awkward…”

But then his eye went to his schedule. His stomach dropped at the sight. Thanks to his headache, he had totally forgotten that he was supposed to check the turian’s new implants to make sure everything was ok. As a matter of fact, he had an hour at best.

He could go to Chakwas for that, right? Right?

“I’m so fucked.”

The human rested his soggy forehead on the deck, mentally willing wherever his dream had come from back to whatever hell it had generated. Lucky for him, he was good at repressing things. With any luck, he wouldn’t even think about it by the time the turian got there for the implant check.

After, though? Well… he was pretty sure he was fucked. Next time he was just going to take a double dose of pain pills. After all, with that new stomach and liver he was pretty sure his body could take that kind of beating. It would be better than the other kind, to say the least.

#ramblinganthropologist's writing #Alistair Shepard #Garrus Vakarian #I've been sitting on this a while because I'm not confident writing smut #shakarian

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sunshineandcybertronians · 4 years ago

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Buffer - Knock Out x reader

Word count: 2, 503 Warnings: none A/N: Was washing a car, decided to write this and did a TON of research.

"(Y/n), you need to wash me and buff out these scratches. Earth is fun to race on, but can be a pain when dirt gets all over my finish!" Your friend, Knockout complained while brushing himself off as he entered the medbay. "And it doesn't help that the Autobots have to scratch me whenever I'm just doing my job.”

A while ago, when you were minding your own business, simply walking on the outskirts of Jasper, you spotted a fight. But not a normal fist exchange, giant robots who you would learn were called cybertronians. Knockout was in that fight. Before the other bots could, he grabbed you, transformed into an Aston Martin, and pulled you through a green-blue, swirling portal.

When he changed back when on the Nemesis, you, being the perfectionist you were at times, pointed out a nasty scratch and that he'd need to get that buffed out. To that comment he agreed. He told you that he captured you so you wouldn't run and tell all of your human friends about him, and later when their leader, Megatron questioned keeping you alive, he also said that you would be a good bargaining chip if the Autobots had something they wanted. Now you weren't a hostage. You helped Knockout with injured Decepticons, which you noted that he was actually a fairly good teacher. And, of course, you aided him with his cosmetic needs.

You smiled upon seeing him again, but it faded to a look of concern when he came closer and you could see the marks. The worst spot was above his right headlight. It had several small, horizontal cuts where the pain had been stripped off as if someone had taken a rock and swiped while dug it into that area.

"You're right." Then you remembered your act. "But I just buffed you two days ago," but even as you stated it, you were already getting out the wash mitts and buckets. The truth was, you loved Knockout's appearance and his paintjob, and would do anything to keep it looking as shiny and clean as Knockout always kept it. Plus, he was your friend. Even so, you would often pretend to resist because if he knew how willing you were to help him, he would have you doing it every three hours.

"Three days," he corrected. "And you're my assistant, thus you help me when I need it. Plus you never seem to mind once you're doing it."

You rolled your eyes playfully and made your way down to the floor, using the makeshift human sized stairs, holding a bucket of soup and water. "I think you forgot to mention that I'm your friend," you didn't even pretend to be upset in anyway.

"I didn't think I needed to." He lifted an optic ridge slightly and gave you a look that made your face faintly warm up.

"Okay, transform now so I can actually wash you," you set down the buckets and loosely cross your arms.

He complied and you got to work. Letting the blue, soft wash mitt around your hand soak into the soupy water, your thoughts wandered to when you got it.

You were standing at the counter with a wash mitt that had soft tassels covering it, along with soup and various other objects.

"That's a lot of stuff for washing a car," the balding middle aged man in the store's uniform commented. "It's going to look like you have a furry paw with this thing on," he joked, holding up the mitt before setting it down again.

"Maybe, but it's very absorbent and has chenille microfibers, making cleaning more efficient and will not scratch like a sponge or cloth would. Plus, wearing it will make it easier to move and get the correct motion," you blurted out a fragment of what you learned while googling the best materials to make Knock look even more perfect.

The man whistled and shook his head. "Wow. That's a lot of research. You must really love your car."

You thought about it for a second and nodded with a smile, "Yes, I do."

Now, you focused on the present, wiping the mitt full of soup smoothing over Knockout's hood. It was a task you always poured yourself into, being sure to clean every part of him aside from the undercarriage. You took care and extra time on the scratched area, absent mindedly admiring the paint that was still flawless, soup suds now adorning it.

"Is that good enough?" you asked, slipping off the wet wash mitt and setting it into the bucket. Although you were fairly certain you had done well enough, you wanted his opinion. The hand mirror that was sitting nearby was picked up by you and you held it up so Knockout could observe your work.

He hummed in approval. "Not bad, but I think I'll judge after you rinse and dry me."

"Will do," you agreed. You quickly grabbed the hose. Water spouted from the nozzle poured over him, washing the bits of white soup off of him and onto the floor. Once the bits of white disappeared, you twisted the hose until no more water leaked out of it. You stared at the paint intently to make sure you didn't accidentally leave microscopic scratches when cleaning him. The result satisfied you. Without any further delay, you whipped out a towel. Not just any towel, you couldn't use a normal one for drying off a car, especially not Knockout. It was a microfiber waffle weave towel. You began blotting off the water like you always would. Wiping could result in picked up dirt and scraping it along the paint, which was the last thing you or the medic wanted.

As soon as the rest of the water was picked up, you draped the towel on your arm and said, "Finished with the washing." Your mind was already making a list of what you needed next to buff him out.

He transformed back into bot form to inspect your work while you spun around to get the rotary buffer and other supplies."Not bad. Like always." He turned his arm over to check the door with its gray pattern. "And to think I once thought a human could never do something like this."

"Well I had to learn. I can't do a mediocre job on the great Knockout," you added with a playful smile.

"Where did you learn all of this? You certainly didn't know at first."

A lot of time on the internet, you were tempted to say. And you meant A LOT of time on the internet. Instead you settled for with a shrug, "I just picked it up."

His optics caught the area where the paint was torn off from the battle and he scowled. "But now it's time to get rid of THAT."

"On it," you carried the buffer, compound bottle, and bucket of paint as best you could. "Now that it's clean, I can reapply the paint."

Since Knockout would have to face the possibility of his paint getting ripped off whenever he encountered an Autobot, he had tons of his paint, so you wouldn't have to jump through hoops to find the right color and make sure it was made out of the right material so it wouldn't react badly with the rest of the paint.

You began to mask the headlight below the area you would repaint, as to not get anything on it that wasn't supposed to be there. There was no scratches in the primer, so you didn't need to add primer. With Knockout always keeping himself in prime condition, you didn't need to remove any rust since there was none. That removed two possible steps. You applied the wax and grease remover to the gray area before using a 220 grit sandpaper to smooth out the area for the paint to stick.

While doing this, you heard Knockout grunt from the slight pain caused by the sandpaper. "Sorry, are you alright? Should I be more gentle?" you asked with concern.

"Yeah. It's just a little uncomfortable. I'll be okay, just keep on doing that," he answered as his lights flickered at his words.

You nodded. Once you were done sliding the sandpaper back and forth, you washed that spot again to remove any debris. Next was the actual painting. The can hissed from the seal being broken as you slowly and delicately opened it. After mixing it, you painted on several thin layers. While waiting for each layer to dry, you would either talk to Knockout or he would transform to get some work done if it was semi dry.

When that was done, you pulled out three pieces of sandpaper to even the new paint that stuck up a little. Starting with the 1,000 grit sandpaper to get off the majority, then moving to 2,000 and after 3,000 as you got close to the level of the rest of the paint and needed more fine sandpaper. The next step was to add top coat, which was easier then the previous step.

In other words the whole thing was a long, tedious process. You understood completely why Knockout got so irritated whenever his paint was scratched. Especially since you were the one to fix it most of the time. Plus, you knew it made Knockout upset and you wanted him to look his best.

"Okay." You wiped off your forehead with your wrist. "Now time to get to the actual buffing. Would you like to do this part?" You sincerely hoped he said yes, because no matter how much you wanted to help him, you were getting tired.

"Mmm, I think I'll let you do it," his smooth voice answered. You could tell by his voice he didn't need time to think about it at all.

Sighing, you shook your head with a smile. "Of course. I'm just glad most of the time I'm polishing you and, less frequently, washing you."

"I'm sure you want my paint to look perfect just as much as I do, considering how much effort you put in."

"Maybe," you replied, tongue in cheek.

Now you needed to cover the windows and anything you didn't want compound on. Choosing the appropriate buffing pad and compound, you got right to it. You got the soft circular piece wet and squirted the cream onto it. Slowly and carefully rubbing the spinning pad in circles, making sure you got every spot. It took little effort for you to keep the pressure constant, considering how many times you had done it. The only time you had to think about it was when you reached an edge.

It was beautiful the way it made light swirls at first and make it disappear to reveal shiny paint. You absent mindedly tuned out the whirring of the motor as your brain wandered. Mostly thinking about Knockout, his finish, and how great he looked.

When that was over, you sighed and bent over with your hands on your knees, knowing you had to rinse and wash him all over again. If it weren't for the fact that there were lots of times you had to wait a certain amount of time after a step, you would have been completely winded.

"You're doing a great job, doll," he softly encouraged. "After you wash me off again, I can dry myself."

"Really?" you looked up and smiled at his kind offer that was much appreciated.

"Yep. Although, you'll need to get the parts that are difficult to reach."

"Deal," you almost laughed and felt your smile grow and energy returning.

You practically skipped to the hose. Once you finished spraying the crystal clear water onto him, wiping suds onto him, and rinsing him off all over again, you began to walk over to the corner to relax. A sharp, cool object touched your shoulder and you turned around to see Knockout with his helm tilted.

"I believe I need something." A smirk adorned his handsome face.

You remembered the towel. "Oh." You rushed to get it and bolted back over to him.

He held out his servo for the waffle weave towel. You smiled and nearly fell into a daydream as you stared up at him and handed it to him. Your heart skipped a beat when the edge of your hand brushed against the cool metal of his servo. After a few seconds, you managed to snap yourself out of it before he noticed. You turned, paced over, and flopped into your chair.

Sitting down in the bean bag chair, you bit your lip while you admired Knockout reaching all around his frame to dry himself off. You wished that you could wash and buff him while he was in bot mode, but then you wouldn't be able to reach very far with how small you were.

The daydream and staring session only ended when Knockout tossed the towel to you. It softly hit you in the face and dropped into your lap, leaving a shocked expression on your face.

"Now it's your turn." Knockout winked and shifted back into an Aston Martin.

A low laugh vibrated in your throat, but never left your mouth. You quickly inspected him and got any spot he missed. After that was completed, you got another pad and wax. You set it on low speed and smeared and smoothed the wax onto him. It took a good amount of time, but it seemed faster with you spacing out. As a final touch, you wiped him down with a microfiber cloth to take off any extra wax that didn't need to be there.

When you were finally, completely done, he looked absolutely gorgeous. His paint was a thing of beauty. You had gotten a lot of practice at that kind of thing by being around Knockout, and it showed. You could see your reflection on him. He seemed even more attractive and shiny after transforming.

He whistled while admiring your handy work. "You're a master at this."

"Why would I give you any less except my best?" You threw your extra hand into the air as you used the other to put the rotary buffer away.

His optics looked it over another time. "This is nice. Can you do this again another time?

You let out a laugh before you could stop yourself. "No. I just did it." part of you was exhausted and never wanted to do it again, but another part was completely okay with it because, well, he was Knockout.

"C'mon, you know you love me." He set a servo on his shining hip, showing off his signature, amazing grin.

A smirk crept onto your lips. "Yes, I do."

Extended ending: "Argh!" you heard Starscream's voice from behind the door after Knockout walked out. "Your finish is so bright, it's hurting my optics! Did you make (Y/n) buff you again?!"

You gently held your hand over your mouth and giggled.

#TFP #Knockout x reader #Knock Out x reader #Knockout #Transformers Prime #tfp x reader

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marmolady · 4 years ago

Text

New Horizons

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister

Summary: Endless Ending. Liv and Reggie are starting school in San Trobida. Notes at the end!

Word Count: 9695

Chronology: After 'Growing Pains', before 'How the time escapes me...'

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic

Thanks for reading!

San Trobida, July 2035

“Hey, Auntie Grace!”

Reggie looked up from his book at the sound of his cousin’s voice, and hastily placed aside his shiny new copy of ‘A Guide to San Trobidan History’ so he could rush out into the hallway.

Grace was already wrapping Liv in a hug. “Hello, sweetheart.” She kissed the side of her niece’s head, before her eyes wandered down to a bloodied knee. “Did you have a mishap on your bike on the way here?”

“Yeah… I clipped the kerb and crashed,” Liv said, offering her aunt a better view of her wound. As she heard Reggie’s footsteps, she looked up to meet his eye and smiled.

“Youch!” Reggie offered sympathetically as he came close enough to peer over Liv’s grazed knee.

Liv shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

Grace, though, was more concerned. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you fell?”

“No, just scraped my knee. It does actually sting a bit.”

“Hmm. Well, I think we’d better put some anti-septic that knee just to be safe.”

The new house was a mess. Boxes and misplaced furniture filled every room, and the twins-- six years old-- had been making forts with the packing boxes that had been emptied so far. The family had been in the house for just over a day, and some good progress had already been made. There had been a lot that had been left behind. Neither Aleister nor Grace put too much value on material possessions, so most of what had come with them and the children to their new home in San Trobida had been essential furniture, and the mountains of photo albums and memorabilia from a life with the kids.

Grace sat Liv down on a wooden ottoman, and, after a little bit of rummaging, found the first aid kit.

“Okay, this might hurt just a little,” she said gently, and she carefully dabbed Liv’s graze.

Liv yelped, “Fuck!”, causing Reggie to gasp, looking to his mother for a reaction, and Erin and Immy to burst out giggling from inside their box-fort.

Grace raised an eyebrow, but her warm smile didn’t shift. “It stings that much?”

“Yeah…,” Liv said, flushing a little. “Sorry about the language.”

“I’m sure I didn’t hear a thing.”

There was the usual bustling around as Aleister got the girls into their shoes; Immy and Erin had decided that swapping one shoe with one another was the peak of humour, but eventually, their father managed to get them each into a left and a right-- even if they didn’t match. Six-and-a-half-year-old sisters, Reggie had come to realise, made just about everything more of a headache than necessary.

Eventually, though, they were on their way. His mom and dad, walking beside the twins as they pootled along on their bicycles, had the address, but Reggie rode ahead with Liv, taking her lead as she zig-zagged through the streets of Valle Brava. Having only set foot on San Trobidan soil as a new resident some twenty-four hours ago, everything aspect of his environment set his senses alight. This wasn’t like being back in America. Perhaps it was the tropical climate, but he was reminded much more of La Huerta-- of home. Liv certainly seemed right at home here. She and her mothers had settled a few weeks before, and Liv had been coming here pretty much all her life. There were just a few blocks between their respective houses, and the wide cycle paths along the bitumen roads made for an easy journey. This, Reggie had been told, was a newly developed area; much had been re-built since the war he knew his Tia Estela had been involved in. The cycle paths ended as they came nearer to Liv’s place, a little way out of the main township. The foliage on either side of the road became thicker, and there was less street noise, more birdsong.

“Beat you!” Liv announced as she planted her feet into the ground, forcing her bicycle to a stop.

Reggie grumbled, pulling up beside his cousin in front of a humble bungalow-style house with outer walls a vibrant azure blue against yellow accents. The sound of a dog barking-- unmistakably Liv’s Robin, was further confirmation they’d arrived. “You didn’t beat me, Livia. I was following you. I didn’t even know where we were going.”

“Jeez, dude. No one likes a sore loser….”

“I am not a--!”

The door swung open.

“Reggie!” Taylor wasted no time in sweeping her nephew into a hug. “It’s so good to see you! I can’t believe you still have the energy for cycling over here-- didn’t you move house, like, yesterday?”

Reggie laughed. “Hi, Auntie Taylor!” There was something about seeing a familiar face in this new environment that made the pieces seem to click into place. Family made it home. “I’m a little bit tired but mostly just excited. I did sleep in today, so I guess I won’t crash until later.” His sisters on the other hand… there was no way they’d last the evening without overtiredness rearing its ugly head.

“I’m guessing your mom and dad are on their way with the girls?”

“Yeah,” said Liv, “but they’re pretty slow. I don’t have to wait to give Reggie the grand tour, do I?”

“Knock yourself out, kid. Hang on, Liv? Walk your bike through the house, please.”

“I was gonna!”

Reggie could only smirk. Like hell you were….

“Aaaand,” Liv finished off with a flourish, “this is my room!” She opened the door to a good-sized bedroom. It seemed to Reggie that what floor-space wasn’t taken up by the bed was piled up with boxes.

“I mean, I can’t say the mess wasn’t a clue.”

Liv gave her cousin a look as she flopped into her bed. “Hey-- moving house is hard. You’ll see soon enough. You get started all excited, but once you start living your life, you kinda get… stuck. Mama Taylor says we’re going to just blitz it all next weekend, and throw ourselves a pizza party as a reward.”

Reggie got up onto the bed and crossed his legs. “Do you like it here?”

“I love it here! I always liked coming here when I was little, so I guess it doesn’t feel like something completely different. I reckon my tio abuelo is over the moon that we’re here for good; it’s like I’ve got a grandparent now.” Liv’s cheeks flushed pink, and she glanced away.

Understanding, Reggie nodded. Together, they’d grown up in a family that didn’t take the traditional shape. There were some things that simply couldn’t be explained to other friends; like why Reggie’s grandma could help him with his homework, but could never come in for grandparents’ day, and why Liv had a whole side of the family with no grandparents at all-- not even dead ones.

“And,” Liv continued, “people don’t really look at my Mama Estela funny. I noticed that years ago. I guess ‘cause of the war, people don’t look twice at someone who’s maybe a little bit banged-up. I got so sick of it back in America. Every time we met someone new, they’d put on that ‘God, what happened?’ face. Maybe Mom doesn’t want to explain the whole ‘revolutionary in a civil war’ thing to every random person who can’t mind their own business. Some people have scars-- big freaking deal. It’s better here.”

“Yeah, that would be a nice change. The amount of times I’ve seen you and Auntie Taylor look at a nosy idiot like you want to deck ‘em--”

Liv burst out laughing. “True, that.”

The sound of excited barking rang out from the backyard. It seemed pretty likely to Reggie that his parents and sisters had just arrived. When he and Liv arrived in the backyard, Erin had already joined Estela at the barbecue, desperate to be involved, while Immy was passionately talking to Nicolas about goodness-knows-what. Reggie made a mental note to rescue him in a few minutes; that kid could be intense, and the poor old guy had come out here for a relaxing lunch with his niece.

Nicely, but firmly, Reggie nudged the wriggling, writhing form of Robin the dog to the side so he could join his mother and Auntie Taylor at the large alfresco table under the porch. And Robin returned to his favoured position at the feet of the barbecue-- Erin was just a kid, surely, she’d drop something….

“Do you need a hand with the salads?” Reggie asked as he greeted his mother with a hug. He’d been seeking a lot of those. With so much changing, familial comfort meant a lot, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

Perhaps more than anything, though, he was grateful to have Liv by his side. It was the way it had always been; from their toddler days on La Huerta, through elementary school, to their adventures in home-schooling. Some things might change-- some things might change immeasurably-- but he always had his cousin.

___________________________

La Huerta, 2028

Liv yelled out as she splashed down into the shallow surf. “Reggie!”

“I got her, Xiraana!” Reggie cried, and soon he was joined by a young Vaanti girl, who helped restrain their victim.

“No, no!” Liv squealed as she struggled. Vaanti kids, she’d long ago realised, were strong. “You’ll never take me alive!”

“Five-- four--- three….” Xiraana counted down, not letting Liv out of her grasp.

“Two-- one!” Reggie finished triumphantly, and he let his cousin fall unceremoniously back into the water. “The klaawyi ate all the meat off your bones. You’re one of us now!”

Liv pouted, but admitted defeat. It wasn’t the worst thing that could happen; she was pretty good on Team Klaawyi anyway. Or, she would have been… had she not seen the figure of her favourite uncle descending onto the beach from the great tree of Elyys’tel.

“Tio Diegoooooo! Hiiiii!” Liv ran across the sand, almost tripping in her desperation to reach him.

“Hey, Livia!” Reggie cried out, indignant at being suddenly abandoned. “You’re meant to help us catch them!”

But Diego had crouched down to wrap Liv in a hug, and Reggie might as well be talking to a pile of rocks for all that was being absorbed.

“Tio, they got me! Reggie and Xiraana got me, and now I’m a klaawyi!”

“You?” Diego laughed. “You’re no klaawyi-- I’ve never seen a klaawyi that was ticklish!”

“Wha--?” Oh no. Once again, Liv was shrieking with mirth, this time dodging the tickling hands of her tio.

Still standing in the shallows, Reggie stomped his foot, which achieved little but splashing himself in the face. The game went on without them; games of Klaawyi Chase didn’t stop for anyone. The usual fun on the beaches outside Elyys’tel would go on like this every day… whether Reggie and Liv were there to join in or not. And Reggie didn’t want to miss out now.

“Come on, Livia!”

She just shook her head, not letting her adoring gaze up at Diego slip for so much as a heartbeat. “Nah,” she said. “I’m done.”

Torn, knowing that whichever direction he ran in, he’d lose out on precious time with friends, Reggie admitted defeat and rushed back to Liv’s side on the shore. He looked back over his shoulder and waved goodbye-- for what he’d been told would likely be a long, long time. Engrossed in their game, his friends gave just the most fleeting of farewells before continuing to race through the small waves that lapped the beach.

Liv, in contrast, had eyes only for her tio. She clasped his hand tightly; if she held on tight enough, perhaps he’d have no choice but to come with her to wherever her mothers were taking her in the big aeroplane.

Where exactly she was going, Liv didn’t quite understand. It was away from La Huerta, but they weren’t going back to live with Tio Nicolas, they were going… someplace else. Someplace with no Tio Diego and Varyyn, where all the other kids would be boring shades of pink and brown rather than blue and green, and where no one knew about the yeti-bear, or the magic crystal alien that made her mom, or about The Story of the Year the World Stopped.

“I want you to come, Tio Diego…,” Liv softly beseeched.

Diego’s eyes grew misty, her earnest words having tipped him over the edge after what had been a long period of emotional build-up. Goodbyes were never easy, and Liv’s family was his family. He squeezed her little hand gently.

“I’ll visit you, Livi-- I promise. Cross my heart. And your mommies will bring you over to visit us here too; you are going to learn so many new games at school that you can teach Xiraana and the other kids.”

“But I’ll miss you…”

Having rejoined Liv, Reggie peered up at Diego’s teary face with concern. “Diego, you’re making your glasses all foggy.”

“Ha. I know, I know!” Diego wiped his eyes. “You might have a point there, Reggie; I want to spend this last night with you guys actually being able to see you!”

Liv giggled and wrapped her arms around her uncle’s legs, only to be peeled off and hoisted into the air. “We can still have fun until bedtime, can’t we? Will you tell us a story?”

On the ground, Reggie danced around, his arms waving. Diego-time was the best story-time.

In the arms of her tio, her playmate since she was a baby bouncing on his knee, Liv was a mess of emotions; of fear and excitement, of merriment that competed with the looming sorrow. It was more than her little self had a clue what to do with. She was only five.

Sensing his cousin’s turmoil, Reggie reached up a hand and took hold of Liv’s, hanging down by Diego’s side. “Don’t worry, Livia! If you worry, you won’t enjoy story-time.”

Liv stuck out her bottom lip. That little nerd-face could be pretty smart sometimes. Tomorrow night, there would be no goodnight story from Tio Diego, but tomorrow night was not now-- now, everything was as it should be. Her wavering grin returned, and to her delight, it brought matching smiles to the faces of her companions.

“Do you think Varyyn, and my mommies, and Auntie Grace and Uncle Alli, and Auntie Grace’s tummy babies want to listen to the story too?”

“Yeah,” Diego said, letting Liv back down to the ground, where she immediately found another hug in Reggie’s arms, “I think everyone would really like that.”

_____________________________

San Trobida, August 2035

“I don’t get it,” Liv said thoughtfully, as the car rolled right on past the turn for her Auntie Grace and Uncle Al’s place. “It’s right on the way; wouldn’t it have been easier for us to pick up Reggie?”

“Hon,” Taylor replied, “I think Reggie wanted his mom and dad to take him to orientation. They’ll probably be better at helping with his jitters than we would be.”

“I guess.” Liv looked out the window, watching the surrounding vegetation thicken once more as the car followed the road up out of the valley. “Orientation Day shouldn’t be too bad, right? Just, like, meeting our teachers, learning where stuff is, that kinda thing?” And you’ll have to try and make friends. That would be a laugh.

By the time they pulled up at the Las Selvas Secondary School, however, Liv fully understood her cousin’s nerves, and realised that was probably why she’d been so disappointed that he didn’t share a car with her. Through every big change in their young lives, his presence had been a reassuring constant.

“Uggghh,” she groaned. “Can I change my mind? Home-schooling was all right; more of that, please.”

Estela leaned from the front seat and gave Liv’s knee a squeeze. “You know, I don’t think he’d ever say it, but I’m pretty sure Reggie would be really scared if he had to walk into this without you. Besides, you were so excited about starting here; you owe it to yourself to at least giving it a shot.”

Again, Liv groaned, this time even louder. “It’s so annoying when you’re right.”

“Story of my life,” Taylor laughed, while Estela smirked.

When they pulled up at the school, Reggie was already waiting, standing beside the car-park while his parents fussed over him.

“You have your phone?” Grace quizzed, checking for the fourth time since they’d set off.

“I told you, yes!” Reggie replied, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket to wave around for good measure. “I’ll send you a message when I’m ready to be picked up, I promise.”

“In that case, you just have a wonderful time, darling.” She wrapped him in a hug-- already Reggie was easily as tall as her. “Go well, and have fun.”

Liv rushed over, all smiles. Her own nerves were a whole lot less bothersome when she had the distraction of friendly faces.

There were a few more rounds of hugs exchanged-- and then, suddenly, Liv and Reggie were on their own.

“You wanna head over? Looks like people are already crowding around-- it’s probably gonna start soon.”

Reggie’s expression brightened, as if he’d been just waiting for a little push for his confidence to surge back forth. “Well, it will hardly be an auspicious start here if we miss the principal’s address. Get a move on, Livia!”

The morning passed relatively quickly. Liv placed herself next to Reggie at all times-- they’d been put in the same Grade Seven home room as requested, making him one of the eldest in the class, and her one of the youngest. The whole set-up wasn’t entirely different to the school they were accustomed to, other than the bilingual approach. They were given a small pile of boring paperwork, and outlines of what to expect in their new classes; as English was their first language, they’d be taking ‘Spanish as a Second Language’, and Liv was also excited about ‘Nature Studies’, a subject she’d never been offered in America.

As far as Liv was concerned, the most traumatic part of the session was being expected to stand up in front of a room of strangers and give a short spiel about themselves. The perfect opportunity to officially balls-up any chance they might have of making new friends, or at least that was how she saw it. She mumbled down into her chest; something about enjoying hiking and gymnastics, something about liking Batman, and animals, and then she hurriedly sat right back down with flaming cheeks. Reggie, she observed, handled the brief foray into public speaking with rather more poise. Even though he was shy-- perhaps even more than she was-- he seemed able to go into ‘school presentation’ mode, and breeze through. When he sat back down, though, his hands were shaking-- but that was for the eyes of his trusted friend only.

When the lunch break came along, Liv was ravenous; a new and challenging social situation could do that to a person. While Reggie sloped off to the bathrooms, she tested out the school canteen, emerging a little while later with a hot empanada. It wasn’t quite as good as her Mama Estela’s, but it was definitely a step up from what was on offer at her old school. Maybe she could get used to this place….

Liv watched this new world go by all around her as she ate, cross-legged beneath the tree she’d told her cousin to meet her by. Kids moved in their little circles, talking loudly, laughing. Most of them coming into Grade Seven had come from the local primary school, and many knew each-other. Liv and Reggie would be starting out on the outside… and that was daunting. She could not be more grateful that she wasn’t taking this on alone.

Or… at least, she shouldn’t be. The lunchtime queue moved on, the gaggles of kids spread out, and still Reggie hadn’t returned.

Damn, constipated on your first day. Sucks to be you, Reggie.

Tentatively, Liv approached the boys’ bathroom and, having ascertained that no one was watching, slipped in. Her footsteps were unheard, drowned out by the loud, frantic breathing of young Reggie, slumped over the sink. Alarmed, Liv rushed over. Tears were spilling down his cheeks.

“Reggie… it’s okay,” she said gently. A little unsure, she reached out a hand to rub his back, and to her surprise, he didn’t flinch away. Slowly, he seemed to regain control of himself.

“Liv…,” Reggie panted. “You know you’re not meant to be in here; this is the guys’ room.”

“Hey! Like it’s my fault you didn’t take your anxiety attack into the unisex bathroom. That’s on you.” Hmph. Ungrateful, much?

Reggie scowled, and dragged his cousin out of the toilet block by her arm. He slumped down by the wall, and scooched over to encourage her to join him.

“You’re a pain in the arse.” He was still shaking.

“It’s been said, yeah.” Liv huddled a little closer. “You don’t need to worry, okay? You’re not going to have any trouble making friends. Did you see they’ve got a chess club, and a photography club as well? At least that’ll get you talking to people.”

“That’s,” Reggie said quietly, “not exactly what I’m worried about.” When Liv looked at him expectantly, he continued. “When I was in a room with all those kids, my head just went back to being at our old school… and what happened. I know this place is meant to be progressive and all that, but that doesn’t mean that everyone’s okay. What if I think I’ve made friends with someone, and they find out about Erin, and they make it a big thing, and then some arsehole finds out….”

“Man, you’re really spiraling,” Liv observed, not especially helpfully. She wasn’t exactly surprised by what was troubling her cousin; getting into a fight in defense of his young transgender sister had completely unseated Reggie from the comfortable life he’d had at the last school. It had changed everything.

“You would too, if she was your sister!”

“Probably. But I think you should at least give people a go. It sounds like they’re really strict on any kind of bullying against minorities. Swinging back hard in the opposite direction after that fascist dictatorship.”

“Those are some awfully big words for you to be throwing around there, Livia; watch you don’t hurt yourself….”

“Hey! I know my stuff!” Liv demanded. “Do you think my tio abuelo would have it any other way? But anyway, I’m right. All the people who didn’t fit in before have come to this part of the country. Probably a lot of the kids have parents who saw really horrible things in the war; they wouldn’t want to send them somewhere that was bad like before. My Mama ‘Stel gave the principal the grilling of her life, and I bet she hasn’t been the only one. People are gonna want to make sure their kids are being looked after.”

A smile quirked on Reggie’s face as he imagined his aunt on a school tour. “I bet Tia Estela left Principal Sanchez quivering under the desk.”

“Yeah… after what happened in the last school, there’s no way they’d let us go anywhere unless they were sure it was a place that treated people right.”

Reggie knew that much. But his parents, and even his fierce aunt, could not shield himself, his sisters and his cousin, from everything. He contemplated silently, grateful for the patient companionship.

“I guess,” he said at last, “if no one gave anyone else a chance to be anything but the worst, then we’d be pretty lonely.”

“Yup. We should at least give it a shot. And if it all goes in the crapper, I’ll sic my moms on the fools that mess with us. And the freaking yeti.”

Reggie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. That had always been Liv’s answer to everything. “Livia, I hate to break it to you, but if you go around threatening people with yetis, everyone’s gonna think you’ve got a screw loose. Except me; I know you’ve got a screw loose.”

“So damn rude,” Liv growled. “Anyway, you really should eat something. It probably won’t help you feeling crap and light-headed if you’ve got an empty stomach. They’ve got arepas!”

“...I could eat an arepa,” Reggie admitted. There was only so much a young boy of thirteen could control; he couldn’t wave a magic wand and guarantee that his little sister would never be hurt by cruel, ignorant words, but he could look after himself, so that he was the best him he could be-- and the best brother.

_____________________________

USA, 2028

“You did a great job, sweetheart,” Taylor said kindly as Reggie delicately placed his knife and fork atop his small plastic plate, signaling that he’d finished. Immediately afterwards, the little boy’s small hand had dropped to his side to get a reassuring touch of his teddy’s scruffy fur. “It was nice of Big Bear to join us for dinner. Does he like lasagna as much as you do?”

Reggie yawned widely as he nodded to his aunt. He hadn’t known it was possible for a kid to be so full of yawns, but living with newborn twins had shown him just how big a tired feeling could be. “Big Bear likes to watch from the floor.”

“That’s nice of him to let you have the whole plate for yourself. We’re gonna have plenty to bring over to your mommy and daddy for them to eat tomorrow.”

Lasagna had been Reggie’s choice. This whole sleepover was to be all about him; giving him a welcome break from the stresses of being a new big brother to two babies at once. He’d been on many, many sleepovers at Tia Estela and Auntie Taylor’s place before, but this time felt different. Reggie knew that at home, his parents were busy with their other children… and in his sensitive state, it took no time at all for him to miss them.

Twins, Reggie had come to realise, were very hard work. They cried a lot… and his mommy cried a lot, and his daddy cried a lot, and he cried a lot. All crying and no sleeping was not a whole lot of fun. Reggie wanted so badly to get away from the babies, but at the same time he longed to be with his parents. However much fun it was to take a break at his aunts’ place, the worry in him just wouldn’t go away.

Side-by-side, he and Liv changed into their pyjamas. Five-year-old Liv, true to form, nattered away to him the whole time. Babies, of course, were the subject of choice.

“My moms say we’re probably not gonna get another baby. Maybe ‘cos you have two I can borrow one if I get lonely. Do you have one that you like best?”

Reggie shrugged.

“Maybe next time your mom and dad will have three. You could have all these babies like a baby army, and if someone’s ever mean to you, you will have like a hundred poopy diapers you can throw at them. No one likes poop.”

“I don’t want lots more babies,” Reggie said softly. I want no more.

“If you don’t like babies, you can come and live with us forever!” Liv suggested brightly, oblivious the the wobble of her cousin’s bottom lip.

When Estela popped her head around the corner to check on the kids, Reggie was in tears and Liv looked totally bewildered.

“Mommy, Reggie’s crying…,” she pointed out, rather unnecessarily, for her mother had already scooped the little boy into a cuddle.

“It’s okay, mijo,” Estela soothed as she gently rocked her nephew in her arms. “It’s okay to cry. This has been really hard. You know what? You have been such a good boy for Mommy and Daddy.”

Liv, not quite sure what to do, but nothing if not well-meaning, draped herself over Reggie and patted him on the back. “There, there. It’s okay.”

Estela took Reggie into the lounge room for some cheer-up time, and Liv took Big Bear. Taylor quickly joined them, and pulled Reggie into her lap for a cuddle.

“Are you feeling a bit sad, sweetpea?”

Reggie nodded. “Uh-huh. I liked it better how things were before. Everything’s different.”

Taylor gently rubbed the little boy’s arms. “Change can be really tough. It’s like you’ve got to figure out how life works all over again!”

“Yeah, it’s not nice.”

“So, it’s okay to have a good cry. We will give you as many hugs and cuddles as you need.”

“Reggie,” Liv piped up, “do you wanna play a game? That could make you feel happy?”

Reggie sniffed and nodded again. Pleased-- she had this cheering-up business down-- Liv plonked herself in Estela’s lap and leaned forward to her cousin.

“Do you wanna play… ‘Klaawyi Chase’?”

Estela intervened quickly. “Maybe something with a little less running around. It’s nearly bedtime, Livi.”

“Okay. Ummmm…. ‘Duck, Duck, Goose’?”

“Livita.”

Well, you’re no fun. Liv gave a soft huff and pondered. By her best guess, ‘Hide and Seek’ would be a ‘no’ too… especially as last time she’d hid, no one managed to find her for a full hour.

“How about,” Taylor suggested, “we have a game of ‘Fortunately-Unfortunately’?”

“I wanna play that one!” Reggie said enthusiastically. “Can I start? Fortunately, we all had ice cream for dessert.”

Liv bounced in her mother’s lap. “Unfortunately, the ice cream was smelly-feet flavour!”

“Livi!” Taylor exclaimed, rolling her eyes. Why was everything smelly-feet with that kid? “Okay, then-- fortunately, Robin Dog likes smelly-feet, so he ate all the ice cream for us.”

“Oh!” Liv cried. “I’ve got a really good one!” Hehe, Robin with smelly-feet farts….

“Unfortunately,” said Estela. “It was Mama Estela’s turn, and Miss Livita just had to wait.”

Liv turned and poked her tongue out at her mom, making Reggie giggle. He snuggled in against his Auntie Taylor’s chest, his mind far away from worries about his new role as big brother to a pair of very needy twins.

“Fortunately,” he said, smiling, “Furball was visiting, and he made us some new ice cream with no yucky flavours in it.”

“Unfortunately….”

_________________________

San Trobida, September 2035

It was the last weekend before school started, and a lazy warm day at the Montoya house. Estela was up a tree, hammering boards into what would soon be a playhouse for the kids. She’d already finished up a two-storey-high climbing wall on the other side of the yard, which, at Liv’s request, would eventually be connected to the new tree-house by a zipline. Then, there’d be a slide, and monkey bars, and a tyre swing, and a fire pole. Basically, Estela had made it her mission to put together the best backyard playground on the Costa Libertad. Taylor, meanwhile, had been busying herself with a vegetable garden, with the help of a fascinated Erin and her parents, who turned out to be quite clever when it came to soil chemistry.

Liv had been up and down her new climbing wall like a yo-yo, leaving her dog, Robin, running rings around the base and all but tripping Reggie up as he tentatively took his first steps towards ascending.

“Are you coming?”

“I’m trying! Your dog’s getting in the way.”

Eventually, Reggie managed to clamber his way up, with a little help from Liv who hauled him over the top.

“See; piece of cake.”

Reggie couldn’t quite agree, and now that he was up twenty feet, he was already dreading his descent back to solid ground. Keen to distract himself from the dizzying height, he passed Liv the rope that he’d carried slung across his shoulders.

“What do you want me to do with it?” she demanded. “You’re meant to drop one end back down….”

“I’m not going near the edge!”

“Fine. Immy! You down there still?”

On the ground, and trying to wrestle a squeaky toy giraffe from Robin’s mouth, Immy craned her neck up.

“Yeah-- but you’re lucky I am, Reggie was so slow.”

“Careful. I was careful. You should bloody well try it sometime.”

Immy rolled her eyes dramatically, but nonetheless took the rope end that Liv had lowered to her, and ran it over to Estela so the distance could be measured.

“There we go,” Liv said, after having marked the rope at the edge of the platform. “Done. Reggie, if you’re just going to look down, you might as well be on the ground. Come on-- check out the view!”

Begrudgingly, Reggie sat up properly and looked around.

“Woah.” Maybe he could see the appeal of being up so high, even if he was immensely grateful for the safety rails around the platform. “You really can see everything up here.”

“Isn’t it cool?” Liv beamed as she pointed her cousin towards the paddock behind the yard. “You wanted to see our horse? Right in there at the side of the sheltery-shed thing….”

“Oh, wow! Okay, fine, I believe you now. I guess she was just hiding earlier.”

“That’s Miel. She’s like, older than dirt; Mama Estela used to ride her when she was a teenager.”

“And she’s still alive?”

“Just about. I think she’s uh… nearly thirty? Pretty ancient. Mom found out she was all on her own after her friend died, and she bought her so she could retire here with us. She’s kind of a bitey asshole. Uh, the horse-- not Mom.” Liv quickly amended, glancing to the in-progress tree-house. “So, we’re keeping her, and if she wants to make friends with the new horses we’re getting, she can, otherwise at least she can, like, neigh rude horse words at them from over the fence.”

Reggie snorted. Weirdo.

“I’m super excited. I know Mama ‘Stel was kind of nervous about us moving over here because of how things were when she was a kid-- but it actually… feels nice. I love our new house. I love cranky Miel. I love that we’re gonna get chickens, and maybe a new friend for Robin. Even the school seems pretty good.”

Swallowing his fear, Reggie joined Liv at the railing, dangling his legs over the side of the platform.

“Yeah, I think I like it here, too. Mom and Dad seem really happy; Dad says he can make more of a good difference in the world here than in America. So, I guess that’s got to be good. Did I tell you we’re going to put a pool in?”

“You might have mentioned it. When you’ve been whining about the heat, for the hundredth time.”

“It’s so humid!”

Liv giggled. It was like being back in the tropics of La Huerta, and to her, that felt right. Granted, it might have been nicer if they could just pop on over into a neighbouring alpine region that was inexplicably right next to the hot, sticky jungle, but she really loved it.

“Well,” Reggie said, “it’s going to be great. And it should be done by the time Quinn and Michelle come to visit.”

“Do we even know whose house they’re staying at yet?”

“It should be my place.” Reggie puffed out his chest, as if to emphasise the rightness of his point. “You’re definitely getting Jake and Sean and Mikey. You can’t take all the visitors. And besides… we’ll have a pool.”

That was hard to argue with. “It’s up to the adults anyway,” Liv conceded. In the end, it didn’t matter; she was going to make the most of having her La Huerta family around even if it meant camping out in Reggie’s back yard. “But, I will be a much better San Trobida tour guide than you. I’m still showing you around.”

Reggie hmphed, and Liv laughed.

“Come on, Reggie,” she said, dropping gracefully down the side of the wall and taking up hand-holds. “I’m getting hungry.”

It was at that point that Reggie made the sobering discovery that going down, was rather more intimidating than going up a sheer vertical surface.

“Um, Liv…,” he said quietly. “I, uh, don’t think I can do that.”

“Oh!” Liv responded. “Sorry, I forgot you’re new to this. Maybe you should’ve started smaller. But don’t worry, I’ll get you down….”

“Okay…,” he murmured, clearly not remotely convinced.

“Mom!” Liv hollered, all but making her poor cousin topple over the edge in surprise. “Reggie’s stuck!”

Reggie felt heat rise in his cheeks as his sisters, hanging out on the grass below the wall at the worst possible time, burst out laughing. Like they could even get up this high to begin with.

Up in the tree-house, Estela looked up and wiped off the paint from her hands. Rescuing kids from scrapes had pretty much become her specialty at this point; twelve years with Liv had seen to that. “I’m coming,” she called back.

“I’m not exactly stuck,” Reggie muttered defensively, as his Tia Estela easily scaled the climbing wall to join him and Liv, who’d already rejoined him to offer moral support. “If I really wanted to, I could climb down; I just feel I should practice climbing up a few more times before I try that.”

“You’ll get there,” Estela said kindly. As far as she was concerned, the fact that her nephew had a realistic view of his own capabilities was only a good thing. “I’ll have that zipline going in no time anyway, so you’ll have no hurry to work it out.”

With his aunt’s back offered to him, Reggie took the cue and wrapped his long arms around her neck, and his legs around her middle. Getting rescued by one of the team of protective grown-ups? Basically, the story of both his and Liv’s lives.

“Hang on, Regito,” Estela laughed.

____________________________

La Huerta, 2034

The frigid wind howled against the cabin door, and it took all of Liv and Reggie’s combined might to wrestle it closed. Both kids were panting heavily-- and shaking like leaves-- as they nervously stepped away.

“Thank god this little hut was here, really,” Liv heaved. “I dunno about you, but I’d rather be stranded in a snowstorm with walls around me.”

Reggie said nothing, and just shivered, wrapping his arms around his own torso. He’d wrapped up-- as if his parents would let him go wandering into the colder pockets of the island without a heap of layers-- but the snow had wet his gloves through, and a chill was now spreading through his body.

“Hey,” Liv said, “we should… we should get a fire going. You look like you’re halfway turned into a popsicle right now.”

As his cousin busied herself at the fireplace-- thank goodness there was some firewood left-- Reggie fiddled with his emergency phone. His heart sank. No signal. His mom and dad were going to be so worried when he and Liv never came home….

“Uh, Liv… I think the storm’s screwed up the reception here. It won’t let me phone Mom and Dad.”

Liv looked up, and for the first time, she looked truly fearful, her usual intrepid spirit extinguished in a flash. “They’re really gonna panic,” she said softly. She shuddered. If their parents came out looking for them, it meant walking out into a blizzard, and all the danger that came with it. If she could just tell her mothers that she was safe, that she and Reggie had shelter… they could wait out the storm. Anything could happen, anything….

“Are you okay, Livia?” Reggie asked, and he handed her a heavy blanket as he sat down cross-legged in front of her feebly burning fire. “You look kind of spaced-out.”

“Hng?”

“They’ll find us; it’ll be okay.”

“I don’t want them to come and find us,” Liv snapped. “I want them to stay where it’s safe. They could get hurt or, or worse because we were stupid enough not to turn around when the weather changed.” She placed a stick too roughly, and her firewood tower collapsed, extinguishing the flame. “For fuck’s sake!”

Reggie, wisely, stayed quiet, letting his cousin fix up the mess and get a new fire started without interference. He watched her with concern as her eyes welled. “Livia…?”

She huddled close to him, but for a long while, didn’t speak.

“Reggie,” she murmured at last, “something really horrible happened a couple of weeks ago. I didn’t want to talk about it with you, ‘cause… ‘cause I didn’t even want to think about it…. It just made me feel too bad. But, uh.... I was… I was playing in the sea with Mama Estela. Just like we always do. We were just goofing off. Then, um, I got all tangled up in those freaking weeds. They grabbed me and held me under.”

“That must have been so scary….”

“Of course, Mom got me out of there. B-but there was a sea-snake in there. It bit her. It happened so fast… I hardly even saw what happened, but she suddenly just... could hardly even get out of the water. I somehow managed to haul her up out the water, but she was all limp and… and I gave her the anti-venom, and she just started having some kind of fit.. Like her body was jerking around, and her mouth was all frothy.” She gasped through a sob. “Then she… she stopped breathing, completely.” Liv shuddered as the memory filled her mind, vivid as if it were yesterday. She could feel Reggie’s wide, horrified eyes upon her. “I screamed. I screamed for help. Mama Taylor was up the beach, she couldn’t hear me. S-so I did CPR. My hands were shaking so-- so bad. And all I could think was ‘I’m gonna screw this up. I’m gonna screw this up and my mom’s gonna die’.” Her voice cracked and she sputtered through hot tears that she wiped away with her arm. Before she knew it, Reggie had his arms around her and was holding her tight. “I don’t know how long it was,” she said. “It felt like forever, but it was probably only a few minutes. Then she started breathing and I just… I cried, and cried, and cried.”

Reggie gently rubbed Liv’s back, and it soothed her.

“I, uh, I guess I always thought Mama Estela was invincible. To me, she always was. There was nothing I couldn't do either, because she would always be there to protect me. It was so close, Reggie… it looked like she was gone.”

“I… didn’t know it was as bad as that. My dad told me she’d been bitten but…,” Reggie mumbled. “You must have been so scared. Have you… have you talked to your moms about it much?”

Liv sniffed, and wiped her face again. “Yeah. You know what my Mama Taylor is like; we’ve talked it through lots, I’ve told them how I’m feeling. But I haven’t… like… had a big cry since it happened.” Until now. Now, she just couldn’t seem to stop the tears from coming. Reggie didn’t seem to mind; he just sat with her, and rubbed her back, and told her it was okay.

After what seemed like an age, her tears slowed.

“It is going to be okay, you know?” Reggie said gently. “Obviously, they’re going to come out looking for us, but they’re smart. They’ll be prepared; just like your Mama Estela was with the anti-venom.”

“Yeah…,” Liv said, her voice small. You could be as prepared as you wanted, but sometimes the world managed to stay one step ahead. The storm outside was wild and furious, battering on the roof and walls… and it was frightening. Liv could only snuggle under her cousin’s arm, and trust that whatever search and rescue party was out there would come through.

The two kids huddled together beneath their blanket, speaking little, but making their mutual support known without words. Just the squeeze of a hand through the most blood-curdling howls of the wind, and the simple offer of presence.

Somehow, the creak of the door shoved open cut through the dull roar.

“Oh, thank goodness!”

“Dad!” Reggie leapt forward and flung his arms around his father, his face lighting up further when Grace followed in behind. “Mom!”

Grace put her shaking hands to her son’s face, gently sweeping hair from his eyes. “Darling, are you all right?” Then she pulled Liv into a fierce hug, and in a moment Aleister had his arms around all three of them. “We were so worried!”

Liv whimpered against Grace’s shoulder. “Are my moms out in the storm?” She knew the answer already.

“Yes, honey. They’re out searching for you. Don’t you stress, okay? We’ve got a flare to set off so they’ll know we found you here-- and Varyyn and Diego too.”

“Woah,” Liv murmured, “you got a whole search party out.”

There was a buzzing, and the flickering of blue light, then Iris materialised.

Reggie beamed. “Hey, Grandma! So, a ‘whole search party’ is pretty much correct.”

“I will say, being able to scan for nearby lifeforms is quite handy in situations like these.”

So, find my moms and Tio Diego. Liv hugged tighter to her Auntie Grace, with no words pleading for help.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Grace said gently, stroking Liv’s face, while Aleister saw to setting off the flare. “It’s going to be just fine. We’re not far from Elyys’tel; we all fanned out from there, so no one is going to be too deep into the mountains.”

That… actually made sense. It was enough, just enough to keep Liv a step above panic-mode. She headed back to the fireplace, but as her backside hit the floor, a guttural roar rocked the cabin, and she leapt back to her feet.

“What the--?”

“You two stay back!” Aleister ordered, his voice shaking. Why, oh why, did the children want to go gallivanting out in the frozen wilderness when there was a perfectly serviceable tropical paradise right outside their front door? He was going to be old before his time at this rate….

Grace, though, was already hauling open the door, to reveal the hulking figure of the Mountain Guardian.

A growl rumbling in her throat, Arktos loomed in the doorway, looking down at Grace with a questioning gaze.

“Hello…?” she said cautiously. The gigantic bear-like creature was generally reasonably friendly…. “Did we… did we disturb you with the flare?”

Arktos grumbled, her furry ears flicking with curiosity.

“Our friends are out there in the storm,” Grace continued, certain that the yeti would understand; her past experiences had only supported the fact that this creature was incredibly intelligent-- and benevolent. “The flare was to bring them to this cabin.”

With a soft huff, Arktos shuffled backwards, and all of a sudden, it seemed as though she was surrounded by a force-field… a bubble that the wind and blinding snow couldn’t penetrate.

Understanding, Grace turned to Iris. “I think we’re going hiking again-- with a little extra help this time. Al, you’ll stay and watch the kids?”

“I--I--” Aleister stuttered. “Well, of course. Stay close to the… the bear thing.” Scrambling a little, he pulled off his outer layer and offered it to her. “I won’t have you catching hypothermia.”

And Grace stepped into the snow, Iris hovering behind her, and found shelter in the yeti’s protective shield. She looked up at the beast, now rearing up onto colossal hind legs to scout for signs of nearby human activity. “Thank you, Arktos. I guess… I guess, you choose the direction, and we’ll start the search.”

The unusual trio headed out into the storm, and within moments, they were invisible for the wind thick with snow. Aleister, a look of dumbfoundment upon his face, closed the door, and again, the cabin was quiet.

“Damn. Auntie Grace is a fricking badass,” Liv breathed, face alight in awe.

Aleister, recovering from his wife’s shock exit quickly-- he’d seen her steely courage in action enough times to just about take it in his stride, nodded. “Indeed.” He brushed the last flakes of snow from his coat, and looked around the room. “Well, I don’t suppose the wait will pass any faster with us standing around here. Reggie, did we leave any board-games here last time?”

“Uh, looks like we’ve got ‘Scrabble’?”

Well, Liv thought, I don’t have a hope in hell against these people. Should’ve left ‘Twister’ here….

Reggie sat himself down in front of the crackling fire and started unpacking the box. “Hey, Livia-- team up with me?”

He was clearly still a little worried about her. If there was an opportunity to thrash her at something, Mr Pedantic-Always-Right would take it without fail. Or so Liv had believed.

She plonked down cross-legged beside him. “Yeah? Yeah, all right.”

The two kids exchanged a high five, and Liv couldn’t help but grin. You are going down, Uncle Al.

___________________________

San Trobida, September 2035

As the car pulled up the neatly paved pathway to Aleister and Grace’s house, Liv excitedly rolled down the window.

“Reginaaaaald!!!” she hollered.

“How,” Aleister wondered aloud, “can such a small person-- and the offspring of Estela and Diego of all people-- sound so eerily like a bloody foghorn?”

A beaming Reggie followed his father out the front door. He exchanged hugs with both his parents-- and his two little sisters-- and then rushed to join his cousin on the back seat.

“Are you ready to go, mijo?” Estela checked in, suppressing a laugh as Taylor all but did a contortion act to give her nephew a hug from the front seat.

He had Liv, didn’t he? So, basically, he was ready for anything.

The short drive to the school saw the return of those pesky jitters, and Reggie knew from the way his cousin jiggled her leg the whole way there that he was definitely not alone in that. The school ground, filled only with kids their own age when they’d been there for orientation, was swarming with adolescents of all sizes-- and just about all of them were bigger than Reggie and Liv.

With an awkward hug and a kiss to her mothers in the front of the car, Liv bit the bullet and, bulging backpack in hand, stepped out into a brave new world. There was only one thing for it; Reggie would just have to take the plunge. He swung his backpack over his shoulder, and followed after his cousin.

“Welp,” said Liv, “here goes nothing!”

Reggie gave a nervous laugh and playfully bashed Liv with his backpack, putting a reassuringly silly grin on her face.

We’ve got this.

_______________________

NOTES

Little Xiraana is @mauvecatfic's baby. Check out her stories; you won't regret it!

If you read 'A Ride to Remember', you might remember Miel. She's the very same horse.

Aaaaand, the incident Liv is recounting during the snowstorm is the one you can read from Estela's perspective in 'Teething Problems: Part Two'.

#endless summer #playchoices #liv montoya #reggie hall #graleister #estela x mc #estela montoya #grace hall #aleister rourke #diego soto

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x0401x · 4 years ago

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Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #4

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Celestite of Emptiness

“Could you take this with you?” the beautiful jeweler asked me, a stone in his hand.

What he was holding was a rock that looked exactly like a potato. It was dry and rough, with almost nothing to show off about it. It was about the size of a child’s fist.

“Our trade partner added this as an extra. It was mostly forced on me, though.”

“Even if you say that... what am I supposed to do with it?”

As I asked this, Richard said, “You can, for example, make it into a gift.”

He was probably thinking of Tanimoto-san. Indeed, since she loved minerals, I did think that she would like even this kind of plain rock, but...

“No... the aquamarine I bought a while ago is still on-hold, so...”

I had a stone that I wanted personally wanted to prepare myself to give her. As I declined in a roundabout way, saying that randomly firing a present at her might be questionable when taking this into account, yada-yada, Richard looked at me as if taken aback. He seemed to be spacing out. When I made an “aah, this again?” kind of face, he showed shame with an “excuse me”.

“I was a little absorbed in my thoughts.”

“That’s okay, then.”

This sort of thing wasn’t uncommon lately. It didn’t happen when we had customers over, but when I was the only one around, the shopkeeper’s reactions were slow. The speed with which the snacks on the kitchenette’s cupboards were decreasing in numbers was also clearly dropping. It was as if he were just choosing the ones that were close to their expiration date and consuming them robotically, which wasn’t like the usual Richard. Only the digestive, balanced Nakata Seigi Pudding was decreasing in the same proportion as I was making it.

I didn’t know the reason behind this. Honestly, I was pretty worried.

“Is there anything I can help you with?”

As I asked inadvertently, Richard let out a sound that I couldn’t tell whether it was a sigh or a laugh. “Let’s see; there have been forty thieves appearing often around the palace I live in lately, and they are impossibly loud. If you are a magus, I would like you to banish them away with a swing of your wand.”

“Is that the story of Arabian Nights? No, seriously now, are you a victim of stalking?”

“It was a joke. There is nothing troubling me in particular. Aah, speaking of which, I have yet to... Seigi. Come here,” Richard called, sitting on the sofa and pointing me to the opposite seat. The stone was still in his hand. Just what was that rock?

“A spell. There was one in Arabian Nights, right? The magic words that open the cave. Do you know them?”

“Magic words... ‘Open sesame’?”

As I said this, Richard smiled and “split” the stone into two. His touch was soft, even more than if he were splitting a fluffy and crumbly butter potato. There was a crevice on it from the very start.

The inside of the stone on his palm was a treasure cave.

It was tightly packed with brightly shining, light blue crystals. Even though the stone was the color of dry sand on the outside. A spontaneous box of surprises that was. Upon a closer look, the stone’s center was hollow, and the crystals twinkled as if to enclose that empty spot. Was it a quartz? No, it was a different gem. I had never seen a quartz of that color before. Although there were light blue parts, there were mostly white ones. What was this thing?

“Richard, what’s this blue stone...?”

“Celestite. It seems it is also named ‘celestial blue stone’ in Japan. It splits easily, so be careful. Have you ever heard of the name ‘geode’? It is apparently called ‘druse’ here in Japan, and due to the work of hot water, the heart of the stone, unlike its outside, is a sparkling ‘mineral cave’. This phenomenon is not limited to just the celestite and also exists in geodes such as crystals and agates. How thoughtless I was back there. You would not know the true essence of this specimen unless I split it and showed it to you, right?”

I recalled the story of “Alibaba and the Forty Thieves” in my head. When Alibaba opened the cave with the words “open sesame”, the inside was a mountain of treasures. The person who had thought that story out might have been someone who was deeply moved when opening a geode.

Richard gave me one side of the split sample.

“There sure are some interesting stones in this world.”

“Your girlfriend knows better about these kinds of things, doesn’t she?”

“The ‘person I want to have as girlfriend’, you mean!”

“I am terribly sorry. I have been hearing this same correction for quite a long time, so I imagined it was about time for a change.”

“Young people are cautious these days.”

I became sullen and Richard laughed a little. Framed by golden eyelashes, his blue irises took on a gentle hue.

Huh? Speaking of which...

As I looked at Richard in the face with a questioning expression and went stiff, the unseen eyebrows of the beautiful jeweler furrowed slightly. I didn’t avoid his gaze at all, which resulted in him waving his hand a little, as if to ask me if I could see his eyes. I could, geez.

“Hey, what’s the name of this stone again? Cele...”

“‘Celestite’. The ‘celebs’ part has the meaning of ‘heaven’. The intention of the one who named it is obvious, isn’t it? You can feel the brilliance of clear blue skies from this stone formed under the ground.”

“Clear blue skies”. Indeed, that was the color of it. But...

“I know one thing other than the sky that looks just like it.”

“It is not coming to me. Is this something I know?”

“I think you definitely know.”

“What might it be?”

“Your eyes.”

As I said so, Richard’s blue eyes widened a little.

Thanks to myself getting used to foreign costumers in this store, I came to know that “blue eyes” were not all the same. The eye color of a customer who declared themself to have violet eyes was a mix of deep gray and blue, and there was also someone with irises so vivid that it looked like they had been painted all over with aqua-colored ink. Human eyes, just like garnets and tourmalines, were gemstones that bore all sorts of hues. Richard’s eyes were a light, grayish blue. That was a cold combination at first glance, but there was a subtle depth to it and it was gorgeous. The shade close to the center and the one of the surroundings was a bit different. Just like this celestite.

“I wonder if the person who gave it as an extra also thought about something like that.”

Richard fell silent. Ah. Ah~. Hm.

I knew nothing about the person who had added the extra stone, but if they had picked it and sent it to Richard with a serious intention, of course this jeweler who was by no means looking for a lover would get an iffy feeling out of it. All right.

“I got it. I’ll take it. It splits easily, right? I’ll be careful when putting it up for decoration. Thank you.”

As I held one side of the stone within a hand and reached out to get the other, Richard made a weird face for an instant. Eh? What? He seemed like he wanted so bad to push it onto me earlier. I froze in a half-sitting position. What should I do?

Richard opened his eyes with a serious look and spoke while staring at me, “Will you give this stone to someone?” He pronounced each word slowly.

What did he mean? For me to give it away? Didn’t sound like it. The tone of his voice was low. If he had something he wanted to say, he should do it in a way that was easier to understand. Which was it? Should I say I was gonna give it away? Should I say I wasn’t? Actually, what did I want to do by taking this stone with me?

Would I give to someone else, like Tanimoto-san, a stone that had Richard’s eye color?

“I don’t think so.”

I wouldn’t. I couldn’t explain the reason very well myself, though.

Richard seemed to smile faintly. “Is that so? Then...” Saying “keep them” in English, Richard put the other half on my hand.

That means “take them”. I get it. I’m accepting them with gratitude. But I want you to tell me what the heck that pause just now was. Was it nothing much? Or were you just spacing out again? Or maybe you have something that you’re tremendously worried about but can’t tell me?

Sorting out my thoughts, I tried to call out to Richard as he stood up, but he started talking to me instead, spoiling my start, “Right, right; here is one more trivia. Even if you just heard about celestite for the first time, are you familiar with strontium sulfate? It’s an ore that burns with very brightly colored flames and comes in handy as raw material for fireworks and stuff like that.”

“A stone can burn?! Then I gotta be careful about how to store it... No, it might happen even then.”

“Even if you are not so careful, it will not catch fire on its own. However...” Richard turned towards me as if tilting his head a little. Was he smiling? “If there comes a time someday when you cannot suppress your anger, breaking it or burning it might be, well, a good form of practical use.”

“Couldn’t suppress anger”? Before I could ask what he meant by that, Richard got up unexpectedly and disappeared into the kitchenette.

“Breaking a stone” - I couldn’t believe that those words had come from Richard.

After about five minutes, he came out and shut himself in the back room, then began talking in English on the phone.

When I looked at the kitchenette’s sink, I found one of my pudding bowls was empty. He could have eaten it while seated.

Once I was done washing the dishes and came back to the reception room, the half-split celestite geode lay on top of the glass table. Richard had told me to recite a spell when opening this stone into two. It was a silly association, but it would be great if the doors of his evasiveness could be opened with just one spell. I didn’t want to know all his secrets. Just him throwing his worries at me sometimes was enough. But even if I happened to open the cave of his heart, what was there in his intentions? Was it something okay for me to see?

“Well, that’s what I was wondering back then.”

“My deepest apologies...”

“See, I was wondering if there was something I could do for you, but I was a bit hesitant, asking myself whether or not you’d come at me for it, and I couldn’t bring myself to say that.”

“...for causing you such a terrible amount of trouble...”

“I was so uncertain.”

“...at that time.”

Like a bobblehead doll, the shop keeper repeatedly offered me words of apology. Just like them, my spiteful words had none of the sentiment in them at all. It was like a two-person comedy act with no audience. Telling funny stories for our own sake kind of gave me a bizarre feeling, but taking a step backward and thinking it over, it was quite enjoyable.

It would soon be Christmas season, and what triggered the reminiscent talk was that a client who made enormous purchases commented a single sentence about Richard’s eyes before she left: “their color is just like a celestite’s, huh”. But as we had no more time for weird chitchatting, I cut it short and went into the kitchenette. I had to leave the tea ready in advance. This shop was busy lately. It was great that business was doing well.

The celestite of back then was sitting inside the safe that we had bought just recently. Since that stone split and caught fire easily, it was probably more secure within a safe. Even if heaven and earth overturned, I didn’t think I would break or set fire to that stone, nor would I use any other method to take out on it. That much was certain.

Etranger was now in peace.

#housekishou richard shi no nazo kantei #the case files of jeweler richard #jeweler richard #richard ranashinha de vulpian #nakata seigi #jr short story collection #richard ranashinghe de vulpian #housekishou richard #richard #tsujimura nanako #novel #my translation

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dindjarindiaries · 5 years ago

Note

Hi um I love love love you alwayssss could I please please pleeeeaaasee ask for Mando the 23, 40 and 43 all in one fic, mando x female reader?!!?!?!?

character: Din Djarin

prompts: 23. “Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay!”, 40. “You saved my life.”, 43. Taking care of the other when sick or injured (via this list of clichés)

warnings: blood, angst, near-death experience, uak there’s gonna be fluff

rating: PG-14

masterlist

You keep kneeling where you are on the ground, your hands covering your ears as if it’ll help with the constant ringing that’s plaguing them. The explosion’s happened just far away enough that it can only affect your hearing—although it should’ve done much worse. It should’ve killed you.

But, it didn’t. Because of Din.

You hadn’t meant for this to happen. For many months, you’ve been partnered up with the Mandalorian—better known to you as Din Djarin, as he disclosed to you after your fairly close call of being separated on a mercenary job—and fighting alongside him to keep the child safe. You’d both been going after the child as bounty before, and once you discovered what it truly was, you decided to keep it safe instead. This came at a cost, but it was one you were both willing to pay.

Now, scanning the ground to hopefully find some sign of a living Din, you’re not so sure about that anymore.

The closeness you’ve gained to each other has, inevitably, grown an exceeding amount. You have hopes that he feels the same way about you, but you’re not sure. He’s never been a man of many words, and he can be hard to read under all that beskar. You’re certain, though, that you’ve fallen—hard. You knew it as soon as you saw his true nature, the one to contrary to what everyone’s had to say about him. You felt it when he would rock the child to sleep, or feed it bit-by-bit no matter how tedious or how hungry he was himself, or how he so carefully tended to any wound you might’ve sustained in a sporadic fight or job. You could feel it, but you still weren’t sure if it was all in your head.

And now, you think you’ve gotten him killed. It wasn’t supposed to happen. You’d been tracked by a duo of bounty hunters to this remote planet you’ve only been on for two days, and while you were both perusing the market for some resources, they’d made their presence known. A long chase led to you both getting separated, one hunter following each of you. When you’d gotten yours to a civilian-less location, you engaged in a fight, winning after a few back-and-forth moments of uncertainty. However, as soon as you turned to start looking for Din, you noticed the beeping explosive device sitting a few feet away from you, as left by the hunter just before you’d killed him—and you had no time to react.

That’s when he did it. Din flew in from practically nowhere to shove you as far away as he could from the explosive, instead taking the heat of it himself. He managed to get you at a safe distance away from it, but you didn’t even see his body fly through the air. After scanning your surroundings for him, though, you finally find his unmoving form beneath the debris of the nearby trees.

“Din!” you can’t help exclaiming. You struggle to your feet, your heart racing a mile a minute as you run over to him. Your hands brush the debris away and reach out to find some sort of life in him. When you test his pulse, you’re relieved to feel one, but know he’s still sustained some massive injuries. Praying to the Maker that it’s nothing on his head, you use all of your strength to lift him by scooping your arms under his. You drag him to the Razor Crest, which is thankfully just a short walk away into the woodland. “Stay with me,” you plead, heaving out large breaths of shared exhaustion and terror as you continue getting him onto the ship.

Once you’ve dragged him up and into the hull, you secure the hatch closed, instantly getting to work. You still can’t quite process what’s happened as you gather the necessary materials, trying to ignore the violent shaking of your hands. Though he’s still alive, you know he could barely be holding on—and the worst part is not knowing his true state. It’s hard enough without being able to see his face, but with him also still being unconscious, there’s no easy way for you to figure out how he’s truly feeling.

When you have your medical supplies gathered, you kneel beside Din and take a shaky breath. However, before you can even start getting to work, the sound of a weakened voice catches you off guard. Din’s modulated voice is barely audible as he breathes your name. The weakened breath tells you how much effort it required for him to even be able to get that much out.

“Din,” you whisper in strong relief, feeling some of the tension fall from your shoulders.

Din’s hands slowly and shakily rise from his sides, coming to meet the sides of your face. You hold onto his wrists to help stabilize them, closing your eyes as you absorb his touch. “You’re okay?” His observation comes out sounding more like a question.

You give him a nod of reassurance. “I’m fine, Din.” You pause, swallowing hard as you look down at his now grimy helmet. “You saved my life.”

You can hear Din take a few audible breaths, as if the simple action is extremely tiring for him. He takes his arms away from you as he tries to sit up, but you shoo him back, looking to your materials to start working. “I… I had to.”

You wrinkle your brow, taking Din’s armor off piece by piece as you process his response. “No, you didn’t. I was the one who wasn’t paying enough attention.”

Din lets out a scoff to disagree, then winces at the pain it brings him. Your heart clenches at the sound, and when you finally pull the fabric covering his chest up, you can see the various scratches and dark bruising he’s sustained from the explosion—especially around his ribs. You let out a breath.

“That explosive got you good, Din.” You dare to brush a light hand over his left ribcage, instantly earning a grunt of pain from Din that was evidently meant to be hidden from you. “You must’ve broken some of your ribs.” You shake your head, trying to keep your eyes from watering at the guilty thought of all this resulting because of you. “How does your head feel?”

“Fine.” Din’s assurance is curt, and you know he’s likely telling the truth. It’d be hard for him to lie in such a fragile state.

You let out another sigh, reaching for materials with which to clean his cuts first as you gently brush them over the angrily red marks. You can’t bring yourself to speak as you do so. The emotion has welled up in your throat, and you have so many unanswered questions. Why would Din ever do something so rash? Why didn’t he just throw himself in the same direction he’d thrown you? Why didn’t he let you reap the consequences of your carelessness, from your fight? Now, you’ve almost gotten him killed, and he’s just laying here like that’s alright—while it’s tearing you apart inside. Eventually, you can’t hold back anymore, and after securing the bacta patches over his bruises, you let the first question slip. “Why?”

Din’s helmet doesn’t move from where it’s been looking at you. “What?”

“Why did you do that?” Your gaze looks from the wounds you’d been caring for to his dirty helmet.

Din lets out a lame chuckle, barely managing to hold back a grunt in protest. “Why did I save your life?”

You nod. “I don’t understand, Din. You could’ve died. And it was all because I wasn’t paying enough attention. You should’ve let me—.”

“The beskar had a much better chance at keeping me safe than you would’ve had without it.”

Yet, that’s still not good enough for you. He almost lost his life—just because he thought he’d have a better chance at surviving it than you did? It doesn’t make sense. In fact, it almost makes you angry. “What if you did die, Din? What then?”

Din can sense your anger rising. “I didn’t.”

You let out a breath of frustration. “But what if you did? What if—what if you just left me here?”

“I’m confused. Did you want to die?”

You chuckle, standing up to pace around the small space. “I would’ve rather died than have to live knowing that you died on my behalf.”

“But I didn’t. In fact, the bacta is working fast. I feel much better.”

“That doesn’t matter, Din!” You’re now shouting, the traumatic scene of his limp body stuck in your mind as your emotions finally bubble over. “I thought you were dead when I saw you under all that debris!”

“Don’t think about that. Just look at me now.”

You stop pacing, closing your eyes and clenching your fists at your sides. “I can’t! I can’t get it out of my head!” You reopen your eyes, seeing Din more propped up against the wall of the Crest. “Just tell me why!”

“So that you wouldn’t die.” At this point, you can tell Din’s just as fed up with you as you’d become with him.

You chuckle in exasperation. “That’s not good enough, Din. Why would you risk your life like that so recklessly just to keep me alive?”

“Please—.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with you, okay?”

The moment instantly changes. Your eyes widen, and your fists unclench as the tension falls from you. Your heart continues to beat in its quicker rhythm. You don’t know what answer you’d been expecting, but you definitely hadn’t expected that one. Knowing that a man who almost never shows how he’s feeling is unlikely to repeat himself, you approach him again, kneeling slowly down beside him. “Really?”

Din, as you expected, doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes your hand in both of his, and that’s an answer enough for you.

Your vision blurs as you take one of his hands and press it against your cheek, leaning into the touch. You close your eyes for a moment, attempting to collect yourself before you speak again. When you find the words, you look at Din, letting a small smile appear on your lips. “I love you, too,” you assure him, your voice sounding no louder than a whisper. “That’s why I got so pissed off.” You and Din both chuckle at that. “I was just so pained at the thought of losing you, Din. I’m… I’m so glad you’re alright.”

Din brushes his thumb over your cheek, wiping away a tear that’d managed to escape your eye. “Now you understand why I did what I did.”

You give him a nod. “I would’ve done the same thing.”

You hold a gaze with his visor, and you can tell he’s holding one with you. You’re just about lost in the moment when you hear the light pitter-patter of footsteps coming up alongside you. You take Din’s hand in both of yours as you turn to look at the child, who’s approached you both with curious eyes. Upon seeing Din’s weakened state and no doubt sensing the feeling of fresh love in the air, his little arms wrap around one of Din’s boots, his cheek scrunching up against it and his eyes closing as he does so. Your heart swells at the sight, and you giggle as you run a hand over its head.

“I think I have some competition,” you tell Din, hearing him chuckle as he shakes his head. He then uses his free hand to grab around the back of your head, gently easing you towards him until your forehead meets his own—a Keldabe kiss.

#THE YODITO PART GOT ME #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #asks #requests

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sugarcookiesandsins · 4 years ago

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Charmed [Episode 6]

➰ ot7 x reader, poly!bts x reader, mafia!bts ➰ they wouldn’t notice her until she was standing above them, a smoking gun in her hand a bullet in their heart 🌡 M 🛑 details about weaponry and similar materials, dark humor, swearing, mentions of violence 🕛 4.k+

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Tag List: @missseoulite @omgsuperstarg @slutkoo @asifetch7 @kawaiimusiccollection @namupeachs @xicanacorpse @bubbletae7 @crackhead1-800 @yeomjoo @crajishie @loveyoongles @knjkitten @btsarmysvtcarat @i-like-puppy-mg @inner-desire @nicoledelacour27 @kittaebrat @namjoonsslutakakoreanmanswhore @btsxdoll @impartoftoomanyfandoms @thia-aep @pusiushie

Following your explanation, the boys sat in silence as each of them took in the various blueprints and notes spread out before them. Processing it took them some time, and Eli took the opportunity to soothe his dry throat with the remnants of his drink.

“It’s complicated, to say the least.” Namjoon’s voice was distant as his mind wasn’t all that focused on the words coming out of his mouth.

Yoongi only snorted in response, but it was more of a reaction that he had given for the duration of the discussion so Eli considered it a win all in all and looked to the other members for their reactions. Seeing nothing else of note in their eyes, he reached for the papers to clean them up, planning on returning to his room and cleaning up, before going out for supplies. Sure, Hoseok or Jimin could probably hook them up with all that they needed but call it a con’s intuition for wanting to check out the equipment themselves.

Grabbing hold of the documents, he rifled through them and aligned the corners as he always did before getting up.

“I’m headed out for some of the basic equipment so yall can break it in before D-day.” Not waiting for an answer, he headed back to his designated room, barely sparing a minute to toss the papers onto his desk before heading to the bathroom.

With the door locked and the hot water soothing your muscles, you had some time to yourself to think. Your relationship with the rest of the boys could be simmered down to two words: grudging acceptance. Neither side was about drop their pride and invite the other out to dinner, but at least Jungkook wasn’t lunging for your throat every time he laid eyes on you.

The heist was risky, and would take some real trust and teamwork, and “grudging acceptance” wasn’t exactly the best relationship to have with the people you would be trusting with your life while completing the mission. You still were damn sure that they wouldn’t hesitate to leave you behind if they needed to; their relationship was one where they looked out for each other and solid walls were drawn against those who weren’t inside when those walls were built.

In a way, you understood. Though you didn’t have the exact details, it was obvious they went through some trauma together, one that bound them together by something greater than blood ties or brotherhood. You were the same way; the only difference was that you were alone when you built those walls and they had each other.

Shutting off the water, you stepped out into the foggy bathroom, the heat blushing your skin red. The mirror was fogged up, and the metaphor almost made you snort. It seemed that even the world was trying to tell you that within all the personas and costumes, you had lost sight of your true self, even as it stood within reach, blurry but there.

The skin on your chest was red and irritated, most likely from the bandages you used to keep your secret. You needed to spend a night away from them, if only so you could let your skin breathe.

Getting your costume back on, you waltzed out of your bedroom towards the living room, most of the boys had disappeared, but Jimin was still where you had left him, albeit in clothes more appropriate for your shopping trip. In a way, you expected Hoseok to be there as well, but Jimin oversaw their equipment.

“Do you know the weights and heights of everyone,” Eli casually asked as he thumbed through a small journal filled with more of his chicken scratch trying to find the specific page he wanted.

“Don’t tell me you’re interested in us,” Jimin scoffed obviously getting the wrong impression from Eli’s words.

“Interested in keeping you all alive yeah.” Eli turned his back on the still lounging Jimin, who had somehow managed to get even more attractive as he leaned back invitingly on their soft couch. “Don’t fool yourself shorty. I doubt you have anything that would make me want to chase after you.”

Making his way to the foyer of the apartment, he didn’t even look back to see if Jimin was following him before he slipped out and towards the elevators.

The ride down was silent once Jimin joined him, each absorbed in their own devices to pass the time. Upon exiting the tall high-rise building, Eli was none too surprised at the sleek black SUV waiting for them. They needed to buy a lot of equipment and they would need a large car to hold it all.

While in the car, both still maintained the strict silence that they had started in the elevator. Eli’s eyes were focused on the passing scenery, letting out tiny grins at the snapshots of daily life he saw beyond the tinted glass windows. They were all so oblivious to the harsh realities of the world and even if they did know, their brains would probably cut out the information deeming it too harmful to remember.

PJM

He seemed utterly uninterested in anything other than the mission. It really was odd to see how quickly his attitude adjusted when he explained the plan to us this morning. Not once did he let out his signature smile, all teeth and stupidity. It was long, complicated, and required a lot more trust than I felt anyone was willing to give him at this point in whatever relationship was forming between us.

Going out with him was most definitely not my choice, but Namjoon had insisted on it because apparently it was obvious that I was the one with the most prejudices against our new add-on. We all knew it was a blatant lie, but Jungkook had no qualifications to go shopping therefore here I am.

The car is surprisingly silent, and looking over at Eli, he’s focused on the outside world. There was longing in a sense, something we all felt from time to time; we wonder and dream of our lives with intact families and normality.

The car stops in front of a hotel, conspicuous and in the center of town; it’s perfect. Getting down, it’s no surprise that we make an impression on the surrounding people. Jimin’s face is common on the news channels and everyone knows the people he associates with, so everyone gives us a wide berth as we enter the hotel.

Walking to the front desk, the person manning the fort gives us the biggest customer service smile that I have ever seen. Jimin merely nods back before handing over a medallion and asking for, “Room 113 please” with the most conversational tone.

“Forgive me sir, but our staff is still cleaning the room for you. Please feel free to wait in our lobby and I will call you when the room is prepared.” When you enter this line of work, you should always be prepared to deal with word games and subliminal messaging. We both understood what his words meant, there was already someone shopping so we could not go in.

Most places like this did not worry about anonymity between guests, hoping that it would work as sort of a motivation to not betray the location; if someone got captured then they could name everyone else that they saw. It was more commonly seen in stores that had not gotten a footing in the black world of crime. Yet, the truly powerful locations did not need to rely on such childish motivations as that.

Jimin and I made our way to the couches a couple feet away from the receptionist. The world continued to move on around us. Initially, some were focused on our identities, but as they each needed to be somewhere else, we were left alone in the middle of the lobby. The hotel itself seemed to be the playground of the higher class based on all the brand names glittering around me and the large entourages that revolve around a single person.

In a way, that life seemed bland to me. What fun was there to have everything handed to you, sure it was novel for a little while but then it would lose it’s charm. Inherently, people get bored which is why you see celebrities always doing.

It wasn’t long before the receptionist approached us from behind the desk and informed us that they were ready for us. He motions us to follow him and we do.

The receptionist returns to behind the desk and programs a reader card to let us into our requested room. He faces us again and hands that card over with that same sickeningly bright smile. “I hope everything is to your standards.” He knows, though I do not know why I ever doubted it for a second.

Jimin nods and I follow his example of silence as he leads me down a hallway and to our room. Unlocking it with the given card, he lets me inside before shutting and locking the door behind us both. The space is small and not a room at all; it was an elevator.

Surveillance was full force as someone welcomed us to the store and instructed us not to touch anything as the decent began on its own. By my estimate, the level that we stopped at was one below the basement. The doors opened before us and we walked into a well-lit room, almost as big as a proper ballroom. Certainly, not as high but just a big in width and length. The rich vibe continued down here as well with the red walls and gold trimming on the walls and on the cabinets filled to the brim with guns and other equipment.

At the far end of the room, a man in a fitted suit stood relaxed in his posture. Not single strand of hair or muscle moved out of place as we approached him. “Welcome. Please take a look around at your leisure and feel free to ask any questions. We are here to assist.”

Jimin jets off towards the far end of the room, firmly in the directions of some automatic handgun; they suited him. I had initially pegged him at a knife person, but then again he wanted efficiency more than any perceived bloodlust so I relented on my initial judgement. His steps were quick, barely holding on to the perception of calm, but he was like a child in a candy shop, no doubts about it.

Letting him satisfy his own curiosity, I turned to the tactical gear. I would worry about the boys later, getting their measurements from Jimin now would be impossible when he seems much more interested in the custom grips on an Italian classic.

Shopping for harnesses was ironically reminiscent to shopping for clothes; they were all on gold hangers and organized by size and prices. The boys (read: Big Hit) were paying for all this anyways so I’d take advantage of that; only I knew what was really needed for this.

Shifting through them all, I decided on one with multiple points of weight distribution that had multiple clip combinations so one could vary their support based on their preference or on the limits of rope. As I was looking, I felt a presence on my 6 or 7 o’clock; it was either Jimin or the attendant.

“Is this what you wanted the body measurements for?” Jimin.

“No,” I scoffed. “I needed that information to plant fake bodies when we all fail this and need to get the heck out of dodge.”

“The confidence you have in us is astounding.” He didn’t waste time is coming back for me with the same amount of sarcasm.

“I have as much confidence in you as I do in my own survival with the group of you.” Snatching the paper with the written measurements out of his hand, I didn’t bother to head his response as I pulled out different sizes of the same harness. They would cost a pretty penny, but you weren’t footing the bill.

“Take these to the table.” I was already searching for the ropes; something strong preferably suspension or paracord, but mountaineering might work.

“Do it yourself.”

“Like you know what we need for this. Just do what I ask and maybe my confidence that we’ll survive this increase by a tenth of a percent.”

“You’re difficult.”

“But I’m good and that’s what you really need right now isn’t it? Now go.”

Deciding on some dark colored SWAT rappelling rope in 200 feet lengths. It was double braided and would be more than enough to carry our weights at 9mm in diameter. However, ti was a hefty weight, but I’d leave that to the boys. Additionally, I picked up some paracord, just in the case of an emergency lashing or situation.

Next, some infrared googles. They were also a hefty price, but trusting the boys to already have their own, I waited until Jimin returned from his second trip from the far table to confirm. Given a OK, I think he had given up on arguing with me for the sake of it, I picked out some durable ones with a heat sensor attachment.

Last in terms of tacticals, would be body suits. These would go under our regular clothes, additional protection and heat without the bulk. Of course, some bullet proof clothes would be going on top, but still a good base is always necessary.

Now to the fun part, weapons.

Jimin had already beat me to it, having laid out some stuff that he wanted for himself or that he got at the request of the other boys. A computer chip, most likely for Yoongi, catches my eye. Having a computer for research and planning would be so much easier than having to piece together scraps of paper.

Grabbing a sleek laptop off the shelf, I added it to the ever-growing pile of supplies on the table under the raised eyebrow of Jimin. He reaches for it, but I smack his hand away and firmly state that “I like doing these things myself.” I hear no further argument.

Then comes the guns. Semi-automatics have a soft spot it my heart so I grab an all-American Hollywood classic, twin Desert Eagles, metal caps, and a spool of wrapping leather; custom grip can only be truly custom when you make them yourself. Snagging some holsters, I argue mentally between thighs and sides, before just getting both; no point wasting time. Then for knifes, I grab a classic butterfly, before grabbing some more practical Damascus hunting daggers that were lightweight so they could be thrown as well.

Nodding at Jimin, I let him take care of the payment as I continued to explore the room for anything else that we might like. Closer to the door, I see a locked cabinet with oddities that most would not look twice at; they sell information. A couple flash drives being bid off, probably filled with some military programs or governmental passwords. I wouldn’t put it pas them to have one or two automatic Trojans with a logic puzzle for those dolts that didn’t know how to use a computer. Then on the far side, something unexpected.

“They say that’s a charm from the Banshee herself.” Jimin, seemingly done with the purchase, came over towards the elevator as the store took care of sending our goods topside.

“The Banshee?” This was one I hadn’t heard before.

“Yeah. She’s an assassin with some sort of moral code apparently when she kills. And she takes or makes charms from each kill to remember them. Morbid, but then again anyone who’s that good ought to have a few screws lose to not go crazy.” He wasn’t wrong.

Even Master had told me it was odd when he saw the charms, but he got used to it. The box of filled bracelets I left with Master, the only thing of personal value that I really owned anymore so my wrists were naked and empty. Yet, the feeling never hit me until now, when I saw the only charm I ever lost (a round mosaic for a contemporary artist who also profited from fakes) for sale. The Banshee name had power and with power comes profit; the betting for the charm already past the million mark.

“Don’t think to hard. You won’t ever meet her.” Jimin laughed, the kind that came from his belly and was not held back by propriety.

“And you have?” It was a good enough act, lovestruck youngster falling for a power girl he had never even met before.

“Nope. But I want to. Her story sounds interesting enough.” That was the most uncharacteristic thing I had ever heard come out of his mouth.

“Her story,” I snickered, my face trying very hard not to mock him with its expression. “A mafioso and an assassin on a coffee date. That sounds more like the first line of a joke.”

He didn’t respond, but looking back as he pushed me towards the elevator told me he was thinking. The cogs were turning either to make up a lie or to figure out how to put it in words.

“I want to know what made her this way. She is truly someone that does not care, and something must have happened to make her that way.” His voice was quiet and rippling under the surface I could hear some semblance of emotions from him. It was a change, and I let him talk. “Even you can agree with this; we didn’t just wake up one day and decided we wanted to be like this. We went through the ringer and decided that we never wanted to be that low ever again, so we went for the heights.”

“We braved the cliffs and grew wings.” Simple words, but with more meaning that even a full paragraph could hold. He simply nodded in response and the rest of the ride up was silent, each lost in our pasts.

The ride back to the apartment was no different, except for the back piled with our new supplies. Quiet and heavy, not even the driver disturbed us in our thoughts.

The boys were waiting for us when we went upstairs, all cleaned up and hair coiffed to perfection.

“How was it?” Namjoon, objective as ever wanting to make sure the boys hadn’t lost their biggest weapons source because the two of us butting heads.

“Uneventful.” Me, as I turned to the boxes.

“Normal.” Jimin, as he joined the boys on the couch.

“Did you bring us presents?” Taehyung, relaxed as always, stretching his legs on the coffee table as he watched me organize.

I put everything that I had bought for myself in one box, including my harness, a loop of SWAT rope, the extra paracord, and the body suit. The rest was laid out on the floor next to the boxes that Jimin had already organized the others’ stuff into, most likely at the store itself.

“I bought all of you harnesses and new rope. I suggest getting used to wearing them around and working with the additional weight so break them in to your own comfort.”

Jungkook scoffed, “We have our own already.”

“Of course, you do. But do they have at least a 5-point weight distribution and at lest 10 hold holds for various roping combinations?”

He stayed silent.

“No? Then I suggest you break in the one I got for you or I won’t be responsible for you screwing this up for the rest of them. I didn’t bother holding back with him. Jungkook had started to get on my nerves. I was starting to get the feeling that no matter what I did, I would never get on his good side. I had reached a conclusion; it wasn’t me personally he hated, it was the idea of me; all fun and games when matched with his cold perfectionism. He thought I was stupid and infuriating, I thought the same of him; it worked out.

Walking back to my own room, I could practically hear Namjoon trying to figure out a plan to get me and Jungkook back on better terms. But that would have to wait for another day; I needed to get my stuff together.

Making it back to the relative haven of my room, I unpack and start customizing. First was the guns, taking the leather, I cover both handles in a primitive but more familiar imitation of custom grips, adding in the end the metal cap at the bottom of the grip because if you can’t shoot, you can at least swing. Sure, it does mess with the balance of the gun but you get used to it after a couple years of practice. Next, comes the computer. Booting up, I have never been more thankful for technology and resolve to ask someone to scan the document to upload, but after spending a couple hours with Jimin, I am ready to be alone.

Then again, when does the plan of the universe ever work in my favor? Just as I put away the rest of the gear, keeping the harness out to break in after I relax, I hear a knock on my door.

“Can I come in?” Taehyung. Lovely.

“Sure.” I didn’t bother to try to contain my annoyance, but this was Taehyung we were talking about; he was selectively blind, and deaf for that matter, to the world around him. He heard me say that he could come in but he somehow didn’t hear my annoyance.

He waltzed right in and seated himself on my bed as turned around from my desk. Glancing out the window, I could see the first signs of the evening clouding over the brightness of the day, so it was no surprise that he was dressed to go to work. Silk shirt unbuttoned just enough for anyone watching to get a peak of tanned skin tucked into tight denim. A lone silver chain hanging around his neck and thin rings of the same material making his fingers seem longer than you have ever thought was humanly possible.

Once again, he lounged. Looking back, you have never seen him as anything other than relaxed, except for that one time when you technically broke in so context matter with him. He didn’t even bother taking of his leather shoes which made you scowl.

“Any particular reason you’re hear or is it just to grind my gears?”

“Both, but mostly I have a question for you to answer for me.” He reached for his pocket and pulled out a swatch of white fabric that almost made my heart strop.

“A bandage? You want me to wrap something for you?” I didn’t let it bother me. The bandages I wore were a dime a dozen and he could have gotten it from any mom and pop medical store along the road.

“No I was wondering why you had these. If you’re hurt, that’s not good for any of us see?” Sitting up, he kept waving that bandage in front of me, taunting me like he knew all my secrets, but he didn’t.

“You went through my stuff?” Sighing, I relented. “Should have expect nothing less from a sneak thief. They are bandages for emergencies. I don’t trust for a second that Jungkook still doesn’t want to put a bullet between my eyes.”

“True. You and Jungkook really don’t get along. Though that is to be expected when the both of you have different ways of surviving.” Taehyung was smarter than you, and probably anyone else, gave him credit for. His mouth was working to distract while his eyes watched and learned from the people around him.

I didn’t respond, but I didn’t need to. Even Taehyung seemed to sense that our conversation was over as he left my room with some important parting word. “The most dangerous liars are the ones who give themselves to the lies, body, soul and heart.”

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evermore-notes · 4 years ago

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The Least to Most Effective Study Methods

Studying is a part of a student's life, it’s a part of succeeding in life most cases as well. Learning and retaining is a vital life skill you should learn as soon as possible. This is a post to kind of follow up with my last study post I did called “Study Habits That I Use”. Because it got me thinking “what if what I am doing isn’t the “best” way to study? Can I improve?” which is what made me want to type this up.

Disclaimer- I am not a professional. I study a lot because I basically live the academic life by choice and enjoy it. It's part of what brought me into the Dark Academic aesthetic.

The Least Effective Study Methods and Why

Studying for Long Periods of Time (Cramming)

This is bad because chances are you will get bored with what you are doing, you will space out, and just scroll on your phone to entertain yourself. This doesn’t make you a bad student, it just makes you human. I’ve been in the academic's world by choice for many years, and even I do this. Another reason to not do this is that is actually increases your stress levels. Cramming can also lead to students staying up too late and missing out on sleep, this is if the student decides to even sleep at all. This now leads to the student going into class after an all nighter to try and pass a test. This just isn’t effective.

Studying a Single Subject for a Single Period of Time (Massed Practice)

This is like speeding through something. Can you read 5 chapters of your book before bed, yes, you probably can, but SHOULD you? This is how I explain it to those around me when they don’t understand. If you read the entire book, you just bought in one sitting, you probably won't retain much of the story. You are literally not giving your brain a break to process the information so you don’t have a chance to retain it. My advice here, SLOW DOWN, slow and steady wins the race.

Mastering One Subject Before Moving on (Block Practice)

This is when you study a pattern. This may seem like a good way to study in theory, because you may remember answers 1 through 10 are this and that, right? But what if I mix the lineup of questions? It is shown that block practice is not as good when put to the actual test. Which many schools do. This is why I recommend switching up the questions, learning them in as many different orders as possible. That way your mind gets use to that method and you won't feel as anxious when the list isn’t in a particular order.

Reading and Rereading Text

To me this is one of the most boring ways to study. And it has been shown that students that sit and read the same thing over and over again do not retain the information due to lack of interest. Studying this way does not give you a challenge to overcome. Your brain likes achieving things, so if I may suggest Flash Cards instead?

Highlight and Underlining Text

I know I said I use this method, and I do, a lot actually. That’s because I have been teaching myself to study with color codes. For most students this simply isn’t a good option. You may take the time to high light and reread but chances are you won't review the material. I find this to be a good habit if you want to high light passages in your text book that you know you will come back to. But that’s it.

Reviewing Notes

This is the same as rereading your notes, but this has more to do with the student keeping a habit of coming back to actually review and study. Again, most students will not want to come home after a lecture and read what they just spent probably 2 hours on in class. And they shouldn’t! Give your mind a break, drink some water, eat a healthy meal. Play a game or go shopping with a friend. THEN come back and review. But, like I have said, most of the time student will not come back and review what they have typed/written in their notes.

Most Effective Study Methods

Pre-testing

Pre-testing has been shown to help decrease anxiety and help the student actually retain what they are answering. This is a good way to build up self-confidence as well because you get to see how many you missed the first-time vs the second time and so on. You can also spend less time studying with this method and take more breaks vs studying for hours on end, which isn’t good anyways.

Spaced Practice

This is one of my favorite ways to study actually. That is when my courses allow it. This is when the student takes several hours at a time if not days on a subject they are studying. Doing it this way is more effective because you are giving yourself time to absorb the information without over working yourself to death.

Creating Flash Cards

PLEASE DO THIS! This is good for ALL subjects! Not just math. This is a very good way to challenge yourself and help you retain the information. And it’s okay if you get it wrong sometimes, just shuffle the cards again and keep practicing. Even making the flash cards can help your brain start to learn the information. Then you get to challenge yourself which is even better. A way I do this is by getting my favorite candy or treat, and whenever I get one right, I get a bite. I’m not sure how effective this is, but I like to think it works lol. You should also ask yourself about the flash cards, this can create meaning to the cards and help form connections during testing. I normally study for about 30 minutes to an hour with flash cards, three times a day if I have enough time to do so. I also combine color coding as well if multiple cards go into the same category.

Self-Quizzing

This is effective because you write out the test question yourself and then go back and answer them, or you can answer them as you write them out, whichever floats your boat. Whenever I have done this, I personally have more fun, because writing is a good way to retain information, and I am taking a quiz which may just be in my head, but it gets rid of my testing anxiety.

Interleaving Practice

This is when you study a subject that has different categories all together. By doing this you are teaching yourself to think about the problems in different ways, because not all problems may follow the same formula, such as Maths.

Paraphrasing and Reflecting

I use to hate doing this, because I didn’t see the point in turning to my partner in class and asking them about what we just read. But in reality, it has helped me not just in school, but when learning a new skill in general. By taking the time to talk to yourself about what you are learning you are allowing yourself to take in the information. Reading it in your head is different than hearing it out loud. If you are lucky enough to have a study group or a friend, do this together. Talk about what you just learned, then allow your friend to say their piece on the subject. This helps you not only learn to socialize but to also learn the same information in a different way.

Remember that even though you might get something wrong, maybe you studied till your hearts content and didn't pass. Its OKAY to fail. Its OKAY to not get 100%. Just try again, and communicate with your professors and see if they might have any methods or resources for you to get help.

I hope that this post was helpful to everyone. Happy Studying!

Source - https://www.edutopia.org/article/5-research-backed-studying-techniques

More In Depth look at Flash Card Studying https://usm.maine.edu/agile/using-flashcards

#study habits #study tips #dark aesthetic #dark academia #dark academic aesthetic #studyblr

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ducktastic · 4 years ago

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2020 Gameological Awards

Over on the Gameological Discord, we have an annual tradition of writing up our games of the year not as a ranked list but rather as answers to a series of prompts. Here are my personal choices for the year that was 2020.

Favorite Game of the Year

I didn’t know what to expect when I walked into Paradise Killer. I knew that I liked the vaporwave resort aesthetic from the game’s trailer and figured I was in for a Danganronpa-style murder mystery visual novel with an open-ended murder mystery at its core. Those assumptions were… half-right? The game definitely plays out like the exploration bits of Danganronpa set on the island from Myst but with far simpler puzzles. What I didn’t expect was to fall so deeply in love with the environment—its nooks and crannies, its millennia of lore, its brutalist overlap of idol worship, consumerism, and mass slaughter. It makes sense that the world of Paradise Killer is its strongest feature, since the cast of NPCs don’t really move around, leaving you alone with the world for the overwhelming majority of your experience as you bounce back and forth between digging around for clues and interrogating potential witnesses. And despite what the promo materials indicated, there IS a definitive solution to the crimes you’re brought in to investigate, the game just lets you make judgment based on whatever evidence you have at the time you’re ready to call it a day, so if you’re missing crucial evidence you might just make a compelling enough case for the wrong person and condemn them to eternal nonexistence. Am I happy with the truth at the end of the day? No, and neither is anybody else I’ve spoken to who completed the game, but we all were also completely enthralled the entire time and our dissatisfaction has less to do with the game and more to do with the ugly reality of humanity. I’ve always been of the mindset that “spoilers” are absolute garbage and that a story should be just as good whether you know the twist or not and any story that relies on surprising the audience with an unexpected reveal is not actually that good a story, but Paradise Killer is a game about piecing together your own version of events so I feel that it’s vital to the gameplay experience that people go in knowing as little as possible and gush all about it afterwards. Just trust me, if the game looks even remotely intriguing to you, go for it. I’ve had just as much fun talking about the game after I finished it with friends just getting started as I did actually solving its mysteries myself.

Best Single Player Game

I honestly missed out on the buzz for In Other Waters at launch, so I’m happy I had friends online talking it up as Black Friday sales were coming along. The minimal aesthetic of his underwater exploration game allows the focus to shift more naturally to the game’s stellar writing as a lone scientist goes off in search of her mentor and the secrets they were hiding on an alien world. It only took a few hours for me to become completely absorbed in this narrative and keep pushing forward into increasingly dangerous waters. In Other Waters might just be the best sci-fi story I experienced all year and I’d highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys sci-fi novels, regardless of their experience with video games.

Best Multiplayer Game

Look, we all know this year sucked. 2020 will absolutely be chronicled in history books as a fascinating and deeply depressing time in modern history where we all stayed inside by ourselves and missed our friends and family. It was lonely and it was bleak. Which is why it made my heart glow so much more warmly every time I got a letter from an honest-to-goodness real-life friend in Animal Crossing New Horizons. Knowing that they were playing the same game I was and hearing about their experiences and sending each other wacky hats or furniture, it lightened the days and made us feel that little bit more connected. Sure, when the game first launched we would actually take the time to visit one another’s islands, hang out, chat in real-time, and exchange gifts, but we all eventually got busy with Zoom calls, sourdough starters, and watching Birds of Prey twenty-two times. Still, sending letters was enough. It was and still is a touching little way to show that we’re here for one another, if not at the exact same time.

Favorite Ongoing Game

Zach Gage is one of my favorite game designers right now, and when I heard he was releasing a game called Good Sudoku I was sold sight unseen. The game as released was… fine. It’s sudoku and it’s pleasant, but it was also buggy and overheated my phone in a way I hadn’t seen since Ridiculous Fishing (also by Zach Gage) seven years ago. Thankfully, the most glaring bugs have been fixed and I can now enjoy popping in every day for some quick logic puzzle goodness. Daily ranked leaderboards keep me coming back again and again, the steady ramp of difficulty in the arcade and eternal modes means I can always chase the next dopamine rush of solving increasingly complex puzzles. It’s not a traditional “ongoing” game the way, say, Fortnite and Destiny are, but I’m happy to come back every day for sudoku goodness.

Didn't Click For Me

With Fortnite progressively losing me over the course of 2020, finalizing with my wholesale “never again” stance after Epic boss Tim Sweeney compared Fortnite demanding more money from Apple to the American Civil Rights movement (no, absolutely not), I dipped my toe into a number of new “battle pass”-style online arena types of games, and while Genshin Impact eventually got its hooks into me, Spellbreak absolutely did not. With graphics straight out of The Dragon Prince and the promise of a wide variety of magic combat skills to make your character your own, the game seemed awfully tempting, but my first few experiences were aimless and joyless, with no moment of clarity to make me understand why I should keep coming back. Maybe they’ll finesse the game some more in 2021, or a bunch of my friends will get hooked and lure me back, but for now I am a-okay deleting this waste of space on my Switch and PC.

"Oh Yeah, I Did Play That Didn't I?"

I remember being really excited for Murder By Numbers. Ace Attorney-style crime scene investigation visual novel with Picross puzzles for the evidence, art by the creators of Hatoful Boyfriend, and music by the composer of Ace Attorney itself?! Sounds like a dream come true. But the pixel-hunt nature of the crime scene investigations was more frustrating than fun, the picross puzzles were not particularly great, and the game came out literally a week before the entire world went into lockdown which makes it feel more like seven years ago than just earlier this year. I remember being marginally charmed by the game once it was in my hands, but as soon as my mind shifted to long-term self care, Murder By Numbers went from hot topic to cold case.

Most Unexpected Joy

I was looking forward to Fuser all year. As a dyed-in-the-wool DropMix stan, the prospect of a spiritual sequel to DropMix on all major digital platforms without any of the analogue components was tremendously exciting, and I knew I’d have a lot of fun making mixes by myself and posting them online for the world to hear. What I didn’t expect, however, was the online co-op mode to be such a blast! Up to four players take turns making 32 bars of mashups, starting with whatever the player before handed them and adding their own fingerprints on top. It sounds like it should just be a mess of cacophony, but every session I’ve played so far has been just the best dance party I’ve had all year, and everyone not currently in control of the decks (including an audience of spectators) can make special requests for what the DJ should spin and tap along with the beat to great super-sized emoji to show how much they’re enjoying the mix. Literally the only times my Apple Watch has ever warned me of my heightened heart rate have been the times I was positively bouncing in place rocking out to co-op freestyle play in Fuser.

Best Music

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Only one video game this year had tunes that were so bumpable they were upgraded to my general “2020 jams” playlist alongside Jeff Rosenstock, Run the Jewels, and Phoebe Bridgers, and that game was Paradise Killer. 70% lo-fi chill beats to study/interrogate demons to, 20% gothic atmospheric bangers, 10% high-energy pop jazz, this soundtrack was just an absolute joy to swim around in both in and out of gameplay.

Favorite Game Encounter

It’s wild that in a landscape where games let me live out my wildest fantasies, the single moment that lit me up in a way that stood out to me more than any other was serving Neil the right drink in Coffee Talk. Over the course of the game, you serve a variety of hot drinks to humans, werewolves, vampires, orcs, and more, all while chatting with your customers and learning more about their lives and relationships. The most mysterious customer, though, is an alien life form who adopts the name Neil. They do not know what they want to drink and claim it doesn’t make a difference because they cannot taste it. Everybody else wants *something*. Neil is just ordering for the sake of fitting in and exploring the Earth experience. It’s only in the second playthrough that attentive baristas will figure out what to serve Neil, unlocking the “true” ending in the process. Seeing the typically stoic Neil actually emote when they tasted their special order drink? What an absolute treat that was.

Best Free DLC of the Year

It’s still only a couple of days old at the time I’m writing this, but Marvel’s Avengers just added Kate Bishop, aka Hawkeye, and THANK GOODNESS. Almost every character in the game at launch just smashed the endless waves of robot baddies with their fists and that looks exhausting and uncomfortable. Hawkeye (the game calls her Kate Bishop, but come on, she’s been Hawkeye in the comics for over 14 years, let’s show her some respect) uses A SWORD. FINALLY! Aside from that, I’m just having a blast shooting arrows all over the place. She and Ms Marvel are the most likable characters in the game so far, so I hope they keep adding more of the Young Avengers and Champions to the game, and if the recently announced slate of Marvel movies and tv shows are any indication (with America Chavez, Cassie Lang, and Riri Williams all coming soon to the MCU), that seems to be what Marvel is pushing for across all media

Most Accessible Game

Nintendo is, first and foremost, a toy company. They got their start in toys and cards long before video games was a thing, and they still do more tests to ensure their video game hardware is childproof than anybody else in the industry (remember how they made Switch cartridges “taste bad” so kids wouldn’t eat them?). This year, Nintendo got to rekindle some of their throwback, simplistic, toys-and-cards energy with Clubhouse Games: 51 Worldwide Classics, a Switch collection of timeless family-friendly games like Chess, Mancala, and Backgammon, along with “toy” versions of sports like baseball, boxing, and tennis for a virtual parlor room of pleasant time-wasters. The games were all presented with charming li’l explainers from anthropomorphic board game figurines, and the ability to play quick sessions of Spider Solitaire on the touch screen while I binged The Queen’s Gambit on Netflix made Clubhouse Games one of my most-played titles of the year. Plus, local play during socially-distant friend hangs was an excellent way to make us feel like we were much closer than we were physically allowed to be as friends knocked each other’s block off in the “toy boxing” version of Rock’em Sock’em Robots.

"Waiting for Game-dot"

I get that everyone loves Disco Elysium. I saw it on everyone’s year-end lists last year. I finally bought it with an Epic Games Store coupon this year. This year was a long enough slog of depressing post-apocalyptic drudgery, I didn’t want to explore a whole nother one in my leisure time. I’ll get to it… someday.

Game That Made Me Think

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Holovista was an iPhone game I played over the course of two or three days based on the recommendation of some trusted colleagues on Twitter and oh my goodness was I glad that I played it. What starts as a chill vaporwave photography game steadily progresses into an exploration of psychological trauma, relationships with friends and family, and the baggage we carry with us from our pasts. In this exceptionally hard year, I badly needed this story about spending time alone with your personal demons and finding your way back to the people who love and support you. Just like with Journey and Gone Home, I walked away from Holovista feeling a rekindled appreciation for the people in my life.

#video games #holovista #paradise killer #animal crossing #animal crossing new horizons #spellbreak #good sudoku #fuser #dropmix #in other waters #marvel's avengers #avengers #clubhouse games #coffee talk #2020

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askkrenko · 4 years ago

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Krenko’s Guide to Pokemon: Poliwag Line

Ah, Poliwhirl, the main character of Pokemon.

...What, you thought it was Pikachu?

Well, sure, Pikachu became it, because people didn’t like Poliwag, Poliwhirl, and Poliwrath enough, but if you go back and look at the earliest Pokemon promotional material, you’ll find the Poliwag line everywhere, because Satoshi Tajiri himself wanted to push it as the big symbol of Pokemon and Evolution- the tadpole turning into a frog.

Back in the day, Poliwag’s line was inexplicably everywhere. There’d be toy lines of “Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle, PIkachu, Meowth, and Poliwhirl.” Poliwhirl was on all the promotional material. Hell, when Pokemon was on the cover of Time Magazine, guess who was front and center.

But nobody actually liked Poliwhirl all that much so eventually the Pokemon company stopped putting it in everything. Eh, they can’t all be winners. DESIGN: Poliwag is actually super cute. It’s a tadpole with a spiral reminiscent of real tadpole intestines (visible through translucent skin) but not gross at all. Feel free to google that on your own time. I’ve decided not to share the picture here. The little feet show it’s just starting to turn into not-a-tadpole and it’s got a cute little mouth for blowing bubbles. I love Poliwag. Poliwhirl is... fine. Trading the tail for arms makes sense, but what I don’t really get is losing any semblance of a mouth. It just looks weird. Incomplete maybe. There’s something inherently offputting about Poliwhirl’s appearance and I honestly think it’s that it has no mouth, so it’s not clear that that big swirly thing is supposed to be its tummy.

Poliwrath is just a design I don’t like. It’s just Angry Poliwhirl. It’s thicker and has bicep, but it still suffers from the weird mouth issue that Poliwhirl does, and it doesn’t actually look like a different creature. It might just be the least noticeable change in an evolution in all of Pokemon. Seriously, look back and forth between Poliwhirl and Poliwrath quickly and tell me those are two different Pokemon and not just, like, the male and female variant of one. At least with Poliwrath I think I see where its mouth is sort of SUPPOSED to be, but with it closed so tight I can’t really tell. Its made even more confusing because Poliwag shoots “Water Gun” out of its mouth, but Poliwhirl shoots it out of its belly.

And then there’s Politoed. Politoed has a mouth! I approve. Unfortunately, I feel like Politoed diverges too much from Poliwag and Poliwhirl.

The coloration is entirely different, which would be fine if Poliwhirl wasn’t the exact same color as Poliwag, there’s suddenly a huge mouth, the hands and feet are three-fingered instead of whatever’s going on with Poliwhirl, and while there’s still a stomach swirl it’s not only less pronounced, it’s a different color. Now, I will say that overall I do like Politoed’s design. I think it’s a cool frog monster that’s clearly a frog but also has enough unique traits to be interesting. I just don’t feel that it looks like the frog Poliwag was destined to become.

Now, Shiny Politoed actually goes a long way to fix this just by being the same colors as Poliwhirl, but my general feeling here is that if Poliwag to Poliwhirl’s transformation involves big gloved hands and raised eyes, then the Poliwhirl to Politoed evolution should’ve kept those. Also, I don’t get why it has a single long hair. The Pokedex says that hair is proof of its status as a King, and it does evolve via King’s Rock, so maybe there’s some Frog Prince shenanigans going on there, but I just don’t see it. EVOLUTIONS: I love Branching Evolutions, generally, especially ones where you just get a choice. Poliwag to Poliwhirl is a normal level 25, and Poliwhirl to Wrath or Toed is Water Stone or Traded With King’s Rock... And I gotta say, I kind of hate “Trade with King’s Rock.” I don’t think I’ve gone into this yet but I’ll definitely say it a lot in the future: Trade evolutions that require additional items are a pain in the butt, a waste of everyone’s time, and there’s too many different items for them. Also, Trading is already a bit of a thing. Why not just make Poliwhirl evolve into Poliwag by using the King’s Rock like an evolution stone? You know there’s like 40 evolution items and most of them only apply to one Pokemon? And King’s Rock only applies to two.

Look, I understand and begrudgingly respect that, until they came to their senses in Sword and Shield, Pokemon didn’t want to include evolution methods that were attemptable and failable in an earlier game, like using a Leaf Stone on Eevee, but I will never understand while Sneasel needs a Razor Claw but Gligar needs a Razor Fang even though both work by being held items that trigger evolution on level up. And King’s Rock, Metal Coat, Upgrade, and Dragon Scale were what started this mess. And why the devil can’t Seadra become Kingdra with a KING’S Rock? Somehow Politoed is more king than Kingdra? Anyway, split evolutions are cool when they’re sufficiently different. Though Politoed and Poliwrath seem similar, they have a decently different move list and, most importantly, Poliwrath leans Physical while Politoed leans Special. TYPING: Poliwrath is a rather unique Water/Fighting combo which gives it a whopping seven resistances. Sure, this comes with five weaknesses, but if you play smart it means you can switch Poliwrath into a lot of attacks. Also, a Water/Fighting combo gives super effective coverage against seven types, and nothing resists both types. This is a really comfortable place to be. Politoed is pure water, which is fine defensively with four resistances and only two weaknesses, but with only three types of STAB coverage and three types that resist all its STAB attacks it’s going to have a much harder time putting out damage.

STATS: You know what’s weird? Poliwhirl has speed 90. Both Poliwrath and Politoed have speed 70. While it’s not unheard of for a Pokemon to have a stat decrease, especially a speed decrease, on evolution, Poliwhirl is the only Gen One pokemon to have this issue, other than Caterpie and Weedle who lose Attack and Speed upon cocooning but got it back in their final forms. Some Gen One Pokemon retroactively got it later, like Onix and Scyther both losing speed when they become Steel types, but Poliwhirl was the first. Anyway, actual stats. Both Poliwrath and Politoed have above average HP and below average speed. Poliwrath has comfortable defenses at 95 and 90, and a decent 95 attack. It’s not exactly a heavy hitter, but it’s good all around. Politoed has 75 Attack and Defense, just a bit below average, but a Special Defense of a good 100. Its Special attack at 90 is just a smidge lower than Poliwrath’s attack, but it’s still fine.

ABILITIES: For main abilities, both Poliwrath and Politoed have Water Absorb and Damp. Damp, as mentioned for Psyduck, is basically useless. It shuts off self-destructing moves, but those don’t really come up enough to matter. Water Absorb is just good. Water Absorb replaces their Water Resistance not with Immunity, but the ability to heal any time they’re hit by a water attack. In a normal battle, this lets them catch Water attacks even better than they’d be able to otherwise, and jump into them late game to heal. In a 2v2, this allows your ally to spam Surf, healing your Poliwhatever while also damaging both enemies. We’re going to see Water Absorb a lot in the future, and it’s always an entirely solid ability.... but both hidden abilities are worth talking about. Poliwrath’s Hidden Ability is Swift Swim, which doubles it speed in the rain, and it’s another ability a lot of water Pokemon have. Obviously this takes some setup to use, but Poliwrath’s speed is right at the level where it’s poor normally but suddenly really good with Swift Swim up. If your team can reliably trigger it, it’s a serious boost to Poliwrath’s overall effectiveness. Whether this is better than Water Absorb absolutely depends on your team. Politoed... gets one of the greatest abilities in the game. I said this when Ninetails came up, but if a has Drought, Snow Warning, Drizzle, or Sand Stream it’s automatically useful. Politoed is one of only three Pokemon with Drizzle, and while Kyogre is the Obvious Best of the three, it’s a Legendary that’s banned in many tournaments, so the competition is just Politoed and Pelipper- and honestly, they’re both entirely reasonable options. Drizzle is a free action Rain Dance. That’s it. And that’s all you need. Politoed comes out and oh look it’s raining. Now water attacks do more damage, fire attacks do less, and all those other fun rain abilities are triggered. Politoed is a strategy in himself, and even if his stats were much worse, Drizzle would still be reason to use him.

Unless you’re in a format where Kyogre’s legal in which case, to hell with the little frog.

MOVES: As always we start with our attacks. Poliwrath has two main fighting options, the defensive Drain Punch or the offensive Close Combat. As Poliwrath is a bit on the bulky side and not really strong enough to reliably one-shot things with Close Combat, I’d lean toward Drain Punch. For Water, Poliwrath gets.... Liquidation. It’s not impressive, but it’s STAB Physical. Poliwrath actually has a serious move problem in that many of its best moves are Special rather than Physical, but it’s physical attack stat is much higher. With a Swift Swim Poliwrath, Waterfall becomes a lot more desirable than Liquidation, as it’s likely to outspeed its foes, but if your Poliwrath isn’t built for speed, that Flinch is unlikely to happen. Politoed has this question a lot easier. It can learn Surf, Hydro Pump, and Scald, depending on which better fits your tactics.

Poliwrath’s coverage options are Darkest Lariat, Earthquake, Ice Punch, Rock Slide, and Poison Jab. Of these, Darkest Lariat works against Ghost and Fairy, Earthquake against Poison and Electric, Ice Punch against Flying, Grass, and Dragon, Rock Slide against Flying and Bug, and Poison Jab against Grass and Fairy. Obviously there’s no way to win them all, but Poliwrath can reasonably threaten a lot of types.

Politoed’s coverage options are Ice Beam, Psychic, Earth Power, and Focus Blast... But with guaranteed Rain Dance and STAB, it’s better off using Water against anything that isn’t Dragon, Grass, or Water. Nothing it has hits water, so Ice Beam is the only secondary attack it needs to pick up. (Politoed would be utterly busted if it could learn Thunder, but it can’t so... Ice Beam it is.) And then there’s the question of utility, and Poliwrath has a lot of it. Option A is Belly Drum. Belly Drum punches your pokemon in the gut, hard, dropping their HP in half... and raises their Attack by six stages. It’s a dangerous gambit, but Poliwrath is bulky enough and has enough resistances to give it a shot. Option B: Rest. Poliwrath can take a nap and heal to full. Lots of Pokemon can learn rest, but most Pokemon don’t have above-average defenses and seven resistances. Poliwrath can combine Rest with Sleep Talk (but don’t combine Sleep Talk with Belly Drum or you’ll just kill yourself,) in order to keep performing moves while asleep. Of particular note, Circle Throw changes from -6 Priority off of Sleep Talk to using Sleep Talk’s priority, making it a solid option that keeps your opponent from properly fighting back against your sleepy frog. With this strategy, using Scald over Waterfall or Liquidation becomes reasonable. The damage is much less, but Burning an opponent cuts their Attack and deals damage over time. Option C: Bulk Up. If you’re worried about the HP loss of Belly Drum, just Bulk Up instead. It’s weaker, but it raises Defense too, and then you can get back to Drain Punching. Politoed doesn’t have that much for utility options (though Perish Song, Protect, and Encore all have their uses) but that’s fine because the goal here is to just set up rain and then blast enemies with a water attack and Ice Beam or switch out into something that can better take advantage of the rain. You don’t need other utility when you have Drizzle. Take Splash for all I care. It doesn’t matter: Hydro Pump, Surf or Scald Ice Beam Whatever. Maybe take Rest and Sleep Talk, too. Politoed’s pretty bulky. It doesn’t really matter. Drizzle means that Politoed is secretly one of the strongest Special Attackers in the game. Just make sure you have a Ground type on the team so you can safely switch when you’re staring down an Electric type, because you do not want to eat a Thunder. OVERALL: Poliwrath and Politoed, despite being counterparts, are very different pokemon. Poliwrath’s near-unique typing, shared only with Legendaries, and solid bulk gives it an interesting defensive position, with a wide range of attack coverage. Meanwhile, Politoed has Drizzle, which makes a pokemon on its own. Everything else is just gravy. And I seriously wasn’t kidding about Poliwhirl being on EVERYTHING.

#Krenko's Pokemon Guide #Poliwag #Poliwhirl #Poliwrath #Politoed

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