#people would rather ‘spare your feelings’ by lying to your face about how much they care about your creative endeavors than just tel you

[chewwytwee]

The perception that classical music is somehow more arcane and esoteric than any other kind of music is 90% of the reason people are so totally uninterested in it. Most people seem to have just decided that there’s no way they’ll ever understand or enjoy classical music, so the second it comes up they turn their brain off and refuse to even try to engage with the material because it’s ‘boring and too hard’. It’s the same shit with math, or physics, or any other ‘difficult’ subject that people arbitrarily hate cuz it’s ‘RelAtAbLe’ to not understand it.

You literally might as well talk to a brick wall because people are obstinate that 1: they’re incapable of learning difficult things and 2: even if they could learn a difficult thing it wouldn’t be worth their time and effort because the subject matter isn’t cool enough to justify spending time on

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men act when you have insomnia (can't sleep)

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Toge x fem!reader; Megumi x fem!reader (special thanks to @belovedvamp for that jaw-dropping gorgeous Megumi requests, like wow)

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: nightmares, angst to comfort in everyone, I would like to point out that Megumi is my favorite part and that I'm thinking about doing a Part 2, so if you're invested definetely let me know 😭not 100% proofread yet

Gojo Satoru

„Huh, why are you still awake babe? Aren’t you tired?”

Satoru takes in your gorgeous sight, how you lay curled up in your shared bed with your sleepy eyes darted towards him. God, why do you have to be so stunning, why does the selfish urge to keep you awake a little longer become almost unbearable for him when he knows exactly why you’re unable to sleep?

The mattress gives in under your boyfriend’s weight next to you, his hand gently caressing your head. You feel drunk, as if your body doesn’t function properly anymore. No wonder, after all you were awake for more than 30 hours by now, fighting and fighting to finally exorcise a bunch of special grade curses while Satoru was busy somewhere else.

But you’re scared to close your eyes again, to get confronted with the horrible things you’ve saw today. After each and every mission, your brain haunts you with awful nightmares, reminds you of all the death, all the injured, all the things you’ve lost.

No, you just can’t take it. You’d rather stay up a little longer in desperate hopes to be spared than risking to have another bad dream.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it”, you mumble into your heavy blanket, eyes drifting to the window.

It began to rain, heavy droplets pounding against the glass violently, thunder erupting in the dark sky. Carefully, Satoru lays down beside you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist.

“I know you’re lying”, he mutters against your sensitive neck.

“Is it because of your nightmares?”

You turn around to face him in utter surprise. When did you ever told him about those nightmares? You always kept them to yourself, suffered through them on your own. After all, Satoru is a very busy man who shouldn’t have to worry about something like a bad dream. Yes, it seems pretty ridiculous to whine about your nightmares when the strongest of them all is the one you’re talking to.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m fine”, you lie into his face, gifting him a small smile to convince him.

But your eyes don’t lie. They show nothing but terror and dread, nothing but fatigue and alertness at the same time. Suddenly Satoru’s heart feels heavy. He should have realized it sooner, the way you always go to sleep after him when you were out on a mission. Why did it never cross his mind that all of this might be too much for you? Maybe because you’re so damn strong, maybe because you make it look so damn easy every time, carrying the weight of all those missions so that his students don’t suffer.

“It makes no sense to lie to me. Why didn’t you tell me about it, babe? I’m sure Shoko might be able to help you-“

“There’s nothing anyone could do about this”, you interrupt him immediately.

“Trust me, I tried everything out there. I guess this is just how my brain tries to cope with all those things, the people dying and stuff…”

“But you don’t have to go through this alone. We’re a team, remember? Why don’t you wake me up whenever you feel upset? Why do you go to sleep after I’m already passed out? (y/n), don’t do this to yourself.”

Gently, he cups your cheek with his hand, forcing you to look up at him. Oh, how much you hate that familiar feeling. That feeling of being useless, of being weak. Are you really too frail to even sleep after a mission? Why aren’t you able to handle the things you see like the others, like Kento and Satoru? All that training, all that power just to cry in your sleep over the things that happened hours ago.

Truly pathetic.

“Do you really think you’re alone? Especially in the beginning, Kento was plagued by nightmares each and every night so much that he couldn’t even fall asleep. Suguru and I…it is always rough, remembering the faces of those you weren’t able to save. But don’t let them keep you awake, don’t think you have to simply endure this. I’m here each and every night to hold you, okay? I’m here, you’re not alone (y/n).”

Oh Satoru.

Without thinking twice, you turn around and intertwine your body with his, desperately trying to keep your composure. How do you even deserve a man like him? A man who seems goofy most of the time but hast the softest side, a man who cares more about everyone around him than himself.

Your boyfriend, the strongest with a heart of pure gold.

“I hate when they haunt me in my sleep”, you finally give in, hiding your face against his warm chest.

“I know, babe. Trust me, we all do.”

Ever so gently, he strokes your hair and back, embraces you in his very own warmth. Satoru feels like home, like the perfection you are chasing each and every day. What would you even do without his loving arms as your home? Where would you be without his constant support? All those nights he stood by your side, watched a awful romantic movie so you’d feel good again. The countless times he cooked your favourite meal for you, only to throw it away and order food afterwards. All those times he rushed to your side when you got injured, how he always manages to be right by your side when you wake up. And oh, how tender is touch feels against your skin, how his warmth embraces you with every inch of his body. He feels so good, so comforting…

Satoru watches with a small smile as your lids grow heavy and finally close, your breath leaving your mouth evenly.

“As long as I’m the one holding you, no nightmare in the world will dare to wake you up, babe”, he breathes against your ear, holding you tightly in his arms throughout the whole night.

Inumaki Toge

You stare at the full moon blankly, mind racing. How are you supposed to get out of this alive? Are you even strong enough to lead your very own mission without someone by your side? This will be the first time you’ll be completely on your own. Without Maki, without Panda, without Toge…You trained hard these last months, you know what you’re capable of. But still…

Is it enough?

“Kelp.”

His tender voice rips you out of your poisonous thoughts immediately, glossy eyes shooting up to take in his sight. Why does he have to look so delicate with the moonlight highlighting his features? Why does his mouth have to be so damn captivating?

Why is it so easy to fall hopelessly in love with Toge Inumaki?

“Sorry, I thought y’all were asleep”, you explain visibly uncomfortably.

How embarrassing, getting caught by your crush while silently crying into the night about a damn mission. A silent yawning escapes your lips before you can stop it, tired eyes covered by a curtain of tears. God, you are so tired.

“Salmon roe.”

Before you even comprehend what’s happening, the white-haired boy takes his hand into yours gently, staring at you so intensely that you forget how to breathe for a moment. It’s like he wants to tell you that everything will be alright, that you have nothing to worry about.

“I don’t think I can do this alone, Toge. I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this…”, you finally give in.

“Bonito flakes”, he immediately replies.

Without thinking twice, he takes out a small notepad and begins to write frantically. You know he always carries a writing block with him for time that require more than a few words, more than gestures are able to say.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you worked hard these last weeks. And you’re great! Just do as good as you always do, I’m counting on you, (y/n)! Please try to get some sleep now :)”

With every word you read your heart beats a little faster, with every word your grin grows a little wider. If he only knew how much his words truly mean to you…

“So you really think I can do it on my own?”, you question.

“Salmon!”

“Thank you, Toge”, you mutter touched.

You don’t know why, but suddenly your eyes start to burn in tears. Toge holds nothing but affection in his gaze, hand still resting on yours while squeezing it ever so slightly. He truly believes in you and your abilities, shows no doubt in your save return. Maybe…maybe you’re actually able to do this. Maybe you are indeed ready for your first solo mission.

Toge stands up again, signalling you with a gentle squeeze to stand up as well. You follow him through the dark hallways of Jujutsu High, right into the dorm you know so well.

“Tuna”, he whispers into the night before pressing you against his warm chest.

You feel as light as a feather, too stunned to speak by the way his arms feel wrapped around your body. He smells intoxicating, so good that you can’t help but sniff in and out. Is this really the first time Toge Inumaki hugged you for more than 10 seconds? It definitely is hard to let him go again.

“I believe in you, (y/n).”

Did he…Did he just speak?

“Toge…”, you breathe out, watching as his smile grows even wider.

With a last wave, he is gone in the darkness of the night, leaving you standing in the middle of your room on your own with your feelings scattered all over the place. Toge Inumaki just hugged you. No, Toge INumaki just spoke. He told you that he believes in you.

“How am I supposed to sleep now?”, you mumble to yourself.

Fushiguro Megumi

Your eyes snap open in an instant, ice cold sweat running down your face. Where are you? Is it over? You…

You breathe out. It was a nightmare. Again.

“Fuck”, you hiss to yourself while rubbing your aching head.

Why do you have to get haunted by these horrible nightmares, when will it finally stop? Even Gojo-sensei seems to be clueless about your condition, about what keeps you up each and every night.

But you know something that will help you to get through this night. Or rather someone.

Your bare feet stick to the wooden floor ever so slightly while you wander through the dark hallways on your way to his doorstep. Is he even awake? Maybe he won’t open the door at all.

Little do you know that Megumi sits in his bed with his eyes wide open, staring at the door knob in sheer excitement for your return into his arms. He knows it doesn’t mean much to you and at the beginning, it didn’t mean anything to him either. You just came into his room from time to time, searching for comfort in his hug to chase your nightmares away. And since you were friends, Megumi had nothing against stroking your head gently and wrapping his arms around you.

But something seems different now. Something about the sensation of you visiting him late at night sends shivers down his spine, your moonlit features let his heart hammer against his ribcage. It’s like he wants to hold you even closer, wants your breath to brush against his face. Why does it dawn to him how delicate your curves look and how soft your hair feels? There is no use in denying it, no sense in fighting against the obvious.

Megumi Fushiguro has fallen hopelessly in love with you.

The knocks against his wooden floor send him to his door straight away, opening it before you’re able to think twice.

“Oh, I didn’t knew you were still awake, Fushiguro”, you mutter into the darkness.

God, how much he hates the fact that you always call him by his last name. What would he give to hear his name out of your mouth once?

“What do you want here, (y/n)?”

His voice sounds harsher than anticipated while it takes all his strength to not swallow you in his arms immediately.

“I had a bad dream again…”

The vulnerable tone of your voice kills him from the inside. Without saying another word, he steps aside, allows you to enter his dorm without hesitation. You position yourself on the left side of his bed like you always do, hiding yourself in his already warm sheets. Without hesitation, he crawls back into his bed, inviting you into his arms with a long breath.

You smell as good as you always do. Why did it take him so long to realize that you smell absolutely intoxicating, that the mixture of your shampoo, body scent and perfume is addictive? Maybe he should tell you about the way he feels, finally confess how you make his heart beat out of his chest. But how would you react?

Would you…reject him? For all these years of knowing each other, you were never more than friends. Good buddies, pals, but not more than that. None of you ever crossed the line of plain cuddling each other to sleep. Not once did your lips brush over his, not once did your hands move further than his chest. Would you even love him back?

“Come on, you have to have a crush (y/n)! Is it Chris Pine, Tom Holland? Are you more into Korean guys?”, Nobara inquired over and over.

You just rolled your eyes with a playful grin, almost making Megumi fall out of his chair next to Yuji.

“I don’t have a crush on anyone. I’m perfectly fine by myself”, you insisted.

“I like tall woman with a big ass”, Yuji interrupted out of nowhere, gaining a punch in his face by Nobara.

That was it, the first time he noticed something strange. The way his heart suddenly grew heavier than metal, sunk into his chest, took his breath away. He was hurt by your words. Megumi Fushiguro was hurt by the stinging fact that you didn’t say his name like he secretly hoped for, that your eyes didn’t even flinch towards him for the split of a second.

“Hey, are you alright? Why did you tense up like that?”, you mutter against his chest while drawing circles onto his t-shirt with your delicate fingertip.

“Oh, it’s nothing for you to worry about”, he lies into this tender night.

He presses you against his own body a little tighter, watches how your eyes grow heavy with every passing minute that you listen to his steady heartbeat. This shouldn’t mean more to him than comforting an old friend, it shouldn’t make his heart flutter and palms sweaty. But the soft snores leaving your mouth sound oh so lovely, the way your eyes move behind closed lids makes his heart skip a beat. You have to be the most precious creature on this earth, so valuable that he never wants to let you go again.

Until he has in the morning. Until you return back into his arms when nightmares keep you up another night.

Thank you so much for reading! Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul@chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly   @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @aeliusbbg

[faith-forgxtten-land]

Since you mentioned Harwin… (smut pleek)

Princess | Harwin Strong

i had no idea what you wanted other than *harwin* so i hope you like this!! (tho the title sucks so bad but i’m too lazy to think of a better one)

warnings: smut, 18+, mentions of loss of virginity?, bits of fluff ig, fem!reader (?) x harwin but other than that there’s no specifications!

idk how to do this warning shit ngl. also my first time writing smut and you didn’t really specify so… also it’s not proof read at all so read at your own risk

summary: the morning after ser harwin breakbones carries his princess to safety and has his way with her

word count: 1.2k (ish)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Whispers of dawn kissed her cheeks, bursts of gold rallying against the dark of her closed eyes, and the Princess smiled against the softness of her pillow as she registered the warm weight slung over her bare hips.

Harwin’s calloused hand was splayed against her stomach, holding her close throughout the night and break of day. Her smile grew wider as he grumbled unintelligibly and his grip tightened. She could only spare half a thought for her dear sister - poor Rhaenyra stuck with a heartbroken Laenor on her wedding night - as she felt her new found lover stir.

“Good morning, Princess.”

His voice, deep and still cloaked in sleep, was laced with a sense of smug satisfaction she would have found insufferable on anyone else. Luckily for Ser Harwin Strong, she found him far too endearing for her own good. “Good morning, Ser.”

She could feel his lazy grin against her shoulder as he peppered gentle kisses along her smooth skin. “So proper,” he teased as his kisses reached the slope of her neck.

“I’m a Princess,” she sniffed, tilting her head.

He smirked and bit her neck lightly, “A dirty Princess, what would your father think?”

Holding in her whimper, the Princess arched a brow despite knowing he couldn’t possibly see it. “I’d rather not think of my father at all, thank you.”

Harwin hummed as he nuzzled her jawline. His heated breath made her shiver and his grin widened. Last night felt like a dream - one he’d had many, many times over the past few moons. A dream that was often accompanied by his hand in his trousers after. King Viserys would have his head on a spike if he ever found out just what the knight had done to his precious daughter, but Harwin couldn’t find it in him to care much. He had the most beautiful woman in Westeros in his arms and he wasn’t about to let any man - King or not - stop him from relishing this moment.

She turned to face him and his heart stuttered at the softness in her eyes as she smiled. No one had looked at him like that before, certainly not a Princess.

“What?”

His own smile turned just as soft. “You’re beautiful.”

She snorted lightly and he had to stop himself from looking like a complete idiot and confessing his love and adoration at the sound. “Rhaenyra is the Realm’s Delight.”

He couldn’t help himself; he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead and grasped her chin delicately in his large hand. Gods when had he last been this gentle with anyone? She seemed so small compared to him - although most people were small to him - and his chest felt tight in the best possible way as he looked at her. “You are the most breathtaking woman I have ever seen.”

A blush crept up her neck and Harwin smiled smugly at the sight. She had been so confident the night prior, seeing her uncharacteristic shyness before him now made his cock stiffen and, judging by her deepening flush, she could feel it too. “You’re the first man I’ve lain with,” she admitted.

He didn’t tell her that he hoped he’d be the only man she’d ever lie with. Instead he opted for the safer choice, “Well one union had to be consummated, Gods knows your sister’s wasn’t.”

She gasped indignantly and slapped his chest. “Ser Harwin!”

Clasping her hand to his chest, he leaned over. “Yes, Princess?” He was lying fully on top of her now and he felt his pride swell as her eyes flickered to his lips.

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I figured that having fucked the King’s daughter, a few jests on his heir’s behalf couldn’t make things much worse.” He grinned as she gaped up at him and took the opportunity to finally kiss her lips again.

She moaned quietly as she parted her lips for his tongue. Harwin made her feel a thousand things at once. She couldn’t tell if she was excited or scared or shy or offended anymore, all she knew for certain was the very obvious effect he had on her body.

The Princess had resigned herself to admiring the knight from afar until he had carried her to her rooms during the commotion at Rhaenyra’s wedding. Having him in her rooms after saving her like that… how was she meant to resist him?

She was no damsel in need of saving like in one of the stories her mother had told her as a child, but being tossed over his strong shoulder after he had immediately stepped into the fray to save her set off the butterflies in her stomach.

It was wrong. Her father would lose his mind if he found out, especially after the recent rumours of her sister’s indiscretions. But she couldn’t ignore the thought that he might consent to a match between them and her groan as Harwin slipped his hand between her thighs was far louder than she had expected.

“You’re so wet for me, Princess.”

She groaned again and shut her eyes, unable to stop herself from grinding against the palm of his hand as he fucked her with his fingers. Harwin didn’t bother to disguise his own groan as he watched his fingers disappear into her over and over.

“Look at me.”

It took an embarrassing amount of effort for her eyes to open and find his. His intense stare alone almost pushed her over the edge.

“You’re going to look at me while you come undone on my fingers, Princess.”

She couldn’t hold back her whimper. “Yes,” she breathed.

Harwin grinned at her. “Good girl.” He added a third finger and watched as she struggled to keep her orgasm at bay. Gods she was stunning: legs spread wide just for him, hair wild against her pillow and her chest flushed.

“Harwin.”

“Princess?”

She could barely form a sentence. “Please.”

“Use your words.”

A brilliant shade of pink covered her cheeks. She’d never felt so submissive in her life. She was a Princess, she wasn’t meant to take orders from those beneath her, and yet here she was acting like a whore - on the verge of begging - for a mere knight. Gods she loved it. “I can feel it, please.”

“Such a good Princess,” Harwin murmured as his fingers found her clitoris. Her moans were so loud he almost feared the entirety of the Red Keep would hear but he didn’t stop and he didn’t dare tell her to be quiet. “Let go for me.”

He felt her shudder around his digits and he stared, transfixed, at the way her thighs shook and her bosom heaved. Her moans gradually turned to soft whimpers and Harwin made sure she watched as he licked his fingers clean. She tasted even better than she had last night.

It took a few minutes for his Princess to catch her shaky breath and Harwin swallowed roughly as he studied the glisten of sweat on her brow. “I suppose I ought to do the honourable thing now.”

The Princess looked at him in confusion, mind still clouded with pleasure. “Honourable thing?”

He couldn’t stop himself this time. “I’m going to love you, wed you and fuck you for the rest of your life, Princess.”

[fanfiction-blep]

If you are up to doing poly- how do you think Ronal and Tonowari would be with a little human s/o?

Thanks a bunch!

So fun fact about me I am actually polygamous myself, I have no objection writing more poly fics or one shots. Also this is a little short so let me know if you want a more detailed or even smutty version.

Little One~

So tonowari isn’t as opposed to his attraction to you at first. He eases into it and adjusts to the situation, his mate on the other hand. Ronal had a lot of difficulty she had a distinct dislike for humans. But she would be lying if she said she wasn’t immediately drawn to you.

The gentle way you dealt with the wildlife around you. How kind you were with the people of her village. It was hard to ignore that you were not like other humans.

After a while they both became incredibly protective of you. Ensuring that you always had oxygen tanks to hand, scolding you if you didn’t bring a spare with you.

Becoming agitated if other members of the community absentmindedly knocked you over in their day to day tasks.

They barley let you out of their sight, one of them was watching over you always.

At first you thought they didn’t trust you, you sought comfort with the sully family and tried your best to fit in and contribute.

But you couldn’t weave baskets the same, you couldn’t fish. It was hard, but you tried.

One day it became to much and you snuck away to a secluded area to vent your frustration in the form of tears. The feeling of being ostracised too much for you in that moment. Ronal found you, panicked as she has lost sight of you for far to long for her liking.

“y/n?” She tried to keep her voice steady and hide her concern, but fear was replaced with anger when she saw the tears rolling down your cheeks.

Now it was only one moment, a singular second of time where she paused to admire you, your eyes glassy from the tears, a light tint on your cheeks you we’re beautiful to her. But that was I trusted by anger at whatever had caused you upset.

“Are you hurt, who did-“ her concern bubbled over her hands reaching around you to check for injury. “Ronal I am fine, I was just a little upset” “a little?” “Please don’t bother yourself I know you don’t want me here.” “What” she was taken off guard, she had no idea how you had come to this conclusion but she was sure she knew how to rectify it. She leaned down cupping your face in her large hand. “The only place I want you is in mine and my mates arms, little one” her voice was so tender and sweet, you melted into her touch. “Really?” your eyes looked up at hers and she had to fight the urge to ravish you right then and there.

She instead decided to lean down and lightly kiss your face, your nose, eyes, cheeks and finally your lips.

When tonowari was greeted in their shared tent by the sight of you sat on-top of Ronal’s lap he couldn’t contain himself.

He left feverish kisses all along your shoulders and spine. Down your neck as his right hand rested firmly on Ronal’s tight, the other wrapped tightly around your waist.

You were trapped between them and there is nowhere else you’d rather be.

[munsonxmayhem]

7 Years.

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Warnings;

- angst

- fluff

- smut

——————————————

You bit your nails anxiously as you scrolled through your phone, occasionally glancing up at your long-time boyfriend, Joseph, sitting across from you.

You quickly blink the tears away as you scroll through numerous tweets telling you that you weren’t good enough for him; that he belonged with someone just as successful and perfect as him. It’s been like this for some time now, since he became an overnight sensation due to his role as Eddie Munson; his acting career skyrocketing along with his fame.

You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about it when it happened, how he could easily find someone new and leave you, and his old life behind. You hadn’t mentioned it to him, just allowed yourself to be consumed by your thoughts.

You sigh quietly to yourself as the tweets migrated into the ones about Joseph and Grace, how perfect they were together and how much chemistry they clearly had on set. Your heart raced quickly in your chest, your anxiety overwhelming you with the amount of people that would rather see him with anyone else that wasn’t you.

You close out of twitter reluctantly, tossing your phone on the couch. Joseph turns at your sudden movement, his eyes filled with mild concern. “What’s up, darling?” He gives a soft smile and you shake your head, keeping your composure.

“Nothing.. Just tired, I suppose.” You sigh out, and he nods his head. He reaches out to you, taking your hands and pulling you across the couch to him; pulling you into his side and wrapping both of his arms around you. You exhale deeply, trying to focus on him and not the overwhelming ache in your chest.

You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, and you smile softly to yourself. “I love you.” He whispers, and you nod. “I love you, too.”

“You ready for bed, my love?” He coos, his arm rubbing up and down your arm softly. You nod, glancing up at him. He smiles, standing and taking your hand in his, leading you down to the bedroom. You change into an oversized shirt and shorts, climbing under the covers.

Joseph climbs in beside you, his arm immediately finding your waist. He hums against your hair as his hand rubs softly up and down your waist, delicately fiddling with the waistband of your shorts. You know what he’s hinting at, but the thoughts racing through your head and the insecurities bubbling up from them make you shy away.

You gently take his hand in yours, bringing it up to your chest tightly. “Not tonight, baby.. Too tired.” You mumble softly. He nods against your hair understandingly, “Okay, sweetheart.. I love you.” You squeeze your eyes shut at the words, falling silent. He takes notice of your silence, worry filling his entire body. He leans up slightly, glancing at the side of your face.

“Hey..” He whispers, his thumb coming out from the hand you’ve got held tightly; brushing it softly against your chin. “I love you..” He whispers more urgently, holding you tighter against his chest. You let out a shaky breath, “I love you.” Your voice is soft, trying not to let yourself break.

He can sense something is wrong, but doesn’t push it. He lays back down behind you, keeping you tightly against him. “Goodnight, Joseph.” You tell him, your eyes growing heavy. “Goodnight, angel.” You do your best to push the thoughts away, but they follow you into your sleep.

The next day was a quiet one, Joseph in the spare room of your vacation home, running through his lines and doing self tapes. Scrolling through your phone, you found nothing out of the ordinary; until you came across a few people talking about you and Joseph.

‘I read somewhere that they’ve been together for like 7 years, there’s no way they’ll be together much longer.’

‘-Right! I thought the same thing, couples like that don’t last. Especially in the entertainment industry. He’s gonna fall out of love with her, if he hasn’t already.’

‘-So true. He’s got a lot of chemistry with Grace! Hope and praying for those two to be a thing.’

You slam your phone down onto the mattress, standing up and heading to the shower. You let the hot water pour over you, as your tears fall with it. You cover your mouth to stifle the sobs that escape your mouth, not wanting Joseph to hear. The thoughts invade your mind as you cry softly.

What if he is falling out of love with me?

What if he already did?

What if he just doesn’t know how to tell me because we’ve been together for so long?

“Fuck!” You tell in a hushed whisper, running your hands over your face in aggravation as you turn the water off. You dry yourself off, wrapping yourself in a robe before making your way back to the bedroom. You glance at the clock, 6:38 pm. You hadn’t seen Joseph in a few hours, and you’re kind of thankful; not wanting him to see you like this.

You make your way out to the balcony, closing the doors behind you as you lean against the railing, head in your hands. A few tears fall as you look out at the view, your heart beating hard in your chest.

You were so consumed by your thoughts that hadn’t heard the balcony door open behind you. “(Y/N)?..” You wipe away your tears quickly, looking down. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Joseph voice is gentle, yet filled with concern. You shake your head, “Nothing..” He knows better.

He places his hands on your waist, turning you to face him. His big brown eyes search yours worriedly. “Tell me the truth.. Please.” He sounds as though he could cry at any moment. You sigh, “Do you still love me?” Your voice breaks as you try to avoid his gaze. His eyes go wide with surprise, “What? Of course I do.” He pleads, clearly confused.

“Where’s this coming from?” He questions, hurt by the thought. “I don’t know! You’re just.. You’re gonna fall out of love with me. I know you say you love me now, but..” He shakes his head, pulling you at arms length. “I am going to love you forever, okay? I love you now, I’ll love you tomorrow, I’ll love you for the rest of my life. Now where is this coming from?” You look into his worried, hurt eyes; you can see the sincerity in them.

“It’s what everyone online keeps saying.. That you belong with someone else, that you’ll find someone else, that you’ll fall out of love with me if you haven’t already..” You explain to him finally, his heart aching in his chest that he didn’t know this was going on. He sees the tears pooling in your eyes as you spoke.

“Baby, baby no.. Absolutely not. I love you so fucking much. Don’t listen to what you read online, what they say doesn’t dictate how I feel. You’re who I want, who I chose, and who I’ll continue to choose.” He states, promise lacing his voice. You let the tear fall, a small smile on your face at his words. He sighs, wiping the tear from your face and pulling you tightly against his chest.

“I love you.” He speaks softly against the top of your head and you squeeze him tighter. “I love you, Joseph.” He sighs deeply with relief, loosening his grip on you. “C’mere..” He whispers, tilting your chin up to look at him as he firmly slots his lips with yours. You hum in satisfaction against his lips as his hands make their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You make a bold move, placing your hands on his chest and rubbing the surface on top of the fabric. He breaths deeply through his nose, knowing where this is heading. You smirk into the kiss, your fingers making their way to pop the buttons on his shirt. His fingers dig into your waist a bit harder, and you can feel his growing election through your robe.

When you pop the last button off, you break the kiss; sliding his shirt from his shoulders and letting it fall to the balcony floor. He peers down at you, smiling as you run your soft hands up and down his bare chest and torso. “Like what you see?” He smirks humorously, and you roll your eyes. “I absolutely do..” He groans cupping your face in his hands once more as he crashes his lips back onto yours.

You feel his hands fall to the ties of your robe, pulling it swiftly and letting it fall open. You gasp as the breeze hits your bare body, and he uses your parted lips to slip his tongue into your mouth deeply and passionately. He pushes the fabric off of your shoulders, the robe disappearing amongst his shirt.

You would never typically be naked outside of your home, but yours and Joseph’s vacation home was very private and no one could ever see either of you.

You moan into the kiss as his hands find your ass, kneading the soft flesh with his fingers as he pushes you back against the railing. Your hands shakily reach for his shorts, pulling the string before pulling them down to fall to his ankles. He never breaks the kiss as he steps out of them, his hard, hot cock pressed against your stomach between both of you.

He groans against your lips at the needed friction, and you feel him throbbing against your skin. You bring your hand between you, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and pumping him slowly, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. He breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours as he looks down at your busy hand, a gasp leaving his mouth as you swipe your thumb over the tip.

“Shit, baby.. If you don’t stop, I won’t last..” He warns, ceasing your movements by firmly pressing himself up against you. You smirk up at him, and remove his cock from your grasp, a sigh of relief falling past his lips. He reaches down, picking you up by your thighs, and you wrap yourself around him; a stunned giggle coming out of your mouth.

“Let me show you just how much I love you.” He whispers, giving you a quick kiss before carrying you back into the bedroom. You let out a huff as your back hits the mattress, a devilish smirk forming on his lips as he climbs on the bed, laying between your legs so that he’s eye level with your heat.

“So perfect, baby..” He whispers, placing featherlight kisses to your inner thighs, slowly making his way down to where you need him most. You whine as he places a kiss to your pubic area, just above your throbbing clit. “Joseph, please…” You breath out, your hands reaching down to run your fingers through his hair. He takes your hands, interlacing his fingers with yours and placing them on the bed.

“Shhh, darling.. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” He promises before his tongue slides slowly up your slit; from your clenching hole to your bundle of nerves. You let out a gasp that turns into a soft moan, his tongue swirling around your clit slowly. Your hips jerk slightly at the sensation, and he smirks.

Your head falls back on the bed as he untwines and brings his fingers to your entrance, his middle and ring finger prodding teasingly at the expectant hole. “J-Joe.. please don’t tease.” You sigh out, and he grants your wish; his two fingers easing into you. “Oh god..” You whimper, hole already clenching around his skillful fingers. “So responsive, darling..” He coos as you moan and whimper at his movements.

“F-feels so good..” You breath out, your lower abdomen becoming tense with your imminent orgasm. “You’re close already, my love? Hm?” You can hear the jokingly condescending, cocky tone as he looks up at you from between your thighs, watching as your body squirms in his grasp and your brows furrow together.

Your body shakes as you near your release, hands flying to his hair. He groans against your clit as you tug on the soft strands, and that pushes you over; your body quaking as the waves of pleasure flow through you, arousal dripping from you as you clench and release rapidly around his fingers. “I-Oh.. Oh my god..” You cry out as he works you through your release, his tongue sliding down as he removed his fingers and licks up the mess on your inner thighs.

You pant heavily, your eyes closed as your head reels with post-orgasm fog. You feel him make his way up your body, soothingly rubbing his hand along your waist. His hot breath fans your neck and ear as he dips down, whispering, “You alright, darling?” You nod slowly, managing to open your eyes with hooded lids as he brings his face back up to yours.

“I love you.” He whispers, placing a soft kiss to your lips as his cock rubs between your folds. You whimper at the sensitivity, “I love you.” He smiles at your breathy response, bringing a hand down to hitch your leg up on his waist; his tip sliding to your entrance. You bring your arms around his back, gripping him tight to you as he pushes himself in, burying deep inside of you.

He groans into your neck as he fills you, his muscles rippling beneath your touch. You weakly wrap the leg he’s not holding around his waist, pushing slightly signaling him to move. He pulls out almost completely before thrusting back in quickly, a loud gasp falls from your lips.

“You’re perfect for me..” He breathes out deeply, placing soft kisses against your neck, opposite of his quick and deep thrusts. You whimper in response against his shoulder, nails digging in slightly as he penetrates you deeply. After a few moments, you already start feeling your second orgasm approaching, his cock driving into you deliciously.

“Joe, I’m close..” You warn in a whisper, and he nods against your neck; picking up his pace a bit to chase his own release. You feel the knot tightening, as his cock rubs against your velvet walls just right. “J-joseph..” You stammer. He brings his head up to rest his forehead against yours, “Me too, love.. Come on, let go for me.” He urges softly, and you do.

You press your lips to his as you come undone around him, arms tightening around his as you feel like your body is vibrating; your mind melting as your orgasm washes through you. You hear him groan softly as his thrusts get sloppy, spilling into you deeply; his lips pausing their movements against yours as he gets lost in you.

Both of you pant heavily as he stills his thrusts, his forehead still pressed to yours. Your eyes flutter open to see his still shut, lips parted as they take in oxygen. After a few moments, his eyes open; gazing down into yours lovingly. He leans in, pressing the most delicate, love filled kiss to your lips for a couple moments.

“Marry me..” He mutters into the kiss. You gasp, breaking the kiss. “What?” You thought you’d heard wrong. He sighs, “Marry me.” He notices the look of surprise on your face, and he makes his way off of you; standing from his place on the bed and grabbing a pair of boxers, putting them on. You see him walk to the small dresser, opening a drawer and pulling something out.

You stay silent in confusion, sitting up and swinging your legs off the side of the bed as he makes his way to you; clutching the thin sheet to your exposed body.

“I was going to wait until the end of our vacation, but I can’t wait any longer.” He explains, getting on one knee. You gasp, hands flying to cover your mouth.

“(Y/N), I’ve known you for 8 years, and we’ve been together for 7 of them. I’ve been absolutely crazy about you since the day we met. You’re the only girl I love, and you’re the only girl I ever want to love. Will you marry me?” The tears pools in your eyes as he opens the small box in front of you, and you nod fervently.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!” You can’t hide the excitement and awe in your voice as you hold out your hand, he grins widely as he shakily slides the ring onto your finger. You grab his face in your hands quickly, pressing your lips to his for a deep, passionate kiss. He stands, not breaking the kiss as he leans down and his hands cup your face. You giggle into the kiss as he leans against you, your back hitting the bed with him on top of you.

He pulls away from the kiss, smiling mischievously as he pulls the sheet away from your body.

“Should we celebrate?” He smirks, his tone playful as you giggle and nod at him. He bites his lip as he smiles, his lips crashing to yours again filled with love and lust.

You were in for a long night.

——————————————————————————

Authors Note: The end had me giggling and kicking my feet. That’s all, thank you for reading! and thank @kellysimagines for requesting!! ALSO. If you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list PLEASE let me know.

Tag list: @figmentofquinn @dxlceprincessa-blog @one-sweet-gubler @hb8301 @laheymaze @bebe0701 @j4to6786 @feltonswifesworld87 @sequoiassoul @kellysimagines @hellfirefiend @psycheberenike @cutiecusp @thefreakofhawkins86 @booskienahnah @science--hoes @assinakase @castiels-gracex @ysmmsy @ajkamins @whoscamila @levimunson @ches-86 @e-munson666 @thebeautifulnewswriting @eterealbeaut @hardcoredisneynerd

[marcynomercy]

Maira’s personality and how she and Astarion fell in love.

As I said before her personality is well retracted, she lived a good part of her childhood in an oppressive environment without any affection (of course the bullying of the brothers did not help). Maira just wanted a little affection and affection, but she never got it until she was almost killed so she started thinking like her brothers:

"If I stand out my father will love me".

Mas ela não tinha autoconfiança, sempre abaixava a cabeça e tremia quando gritavam... Ela era apenas uma menininha assustada.

The bullying of both her siblings and ordinary people aggravated her insecurity mainly in her appearance, she does not see her positives and isolated herself to spare herself more rejection. Besides the obvious father issues and complex appearance she also has abandonment trauma. Kind of obvious that she never had a love relationship, right?

So besides this whole adventure being your first "quiet" experience with other people obvious that was also a self discovery about romances. Does she like men? Women? Both? She doesn’t know. At this point it can be considered too pure (and can think all kinds of malice because certainly certain individuals of this group thought!) It is common for Maira not to understand the subtleties or double-entendres, this causes much embarrassment actually.

We can say that our little dragon cub is a full plate for a certain silly vampire.

Their first encounter was Astarion threatening her with a dagger… well it wasn’t the best first impression. Astarion soon saw in her an extremely easy target, please, whenever her eyes crossed she startled and averted her gaze almost in despair. He would be lying if he said he was not impressed whenever she showed her eloquence and ability with words as needed.

Obviously he supported the decision for her to be the leader already seeking benefit itself, an easy target as leader of this gang and he would have his safety guaranteed. Of course he was a bit silly… He genuinely thought she was just shy and complexed rather than a complete virgin to the extreme. If they found a unicorn it would surely become her pet. (sorry for the "joke"). Of course Astarion was always amused at the expense of the constraints that were so recurrent especially when they flirted with her. Maira always responded so innocently or showed confusion with the look and finally when she understood that it was a flirt her face was so red that matched the pink hair, but he realized that her face was redder when he was the one flirting with her.

Her body language was very transparent, the way she got restless, how she could barely keep eye contact was all so… sweet. Then he tasted her blood and… Woow, he felt like electricity went through his body. Even after the bite he still felt the pleasant tingling all over his body, it was really something unique.

When they got a little closer and started talking a little more she told a little about herself, how she suffered bullying and… the shock of knowing that she was almost half dragon in the most literal way. But he cannot help but notice the similarity that Maira’s father treated his children in the way Cazador treated his spawns.

But she was saved… lucky. As for his seduction plans… he began to feel horrible long before he fell in love. (she reminded him of Sebastian). Shy, sweet, she was never with anyone. Of course she fell in love pretty fast and of course he just didn’t want to admit it.

@spacebarbarianweird

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Have you never heard of such a thing, darling?

(The Timari Buzzfeed Unsolved AU)

Chapter 2: The Mysterious Case of Haly’s Circus

The video opens, as always, with Tim sitting on the couch, ramrod straight despite the apparent comfortableness of his cushions, smiling in a way that he knows will set people on edge.

People who have been watching Tim’s channel for a while are suddenly struck with the same feeling that new viewers endure when they open one of his videos for the first time. There is something wrong here, though they can’t quite put their finger on what, exactly, is off.

It is never quite scary. It is hard to be scared of a teenage boy. But it is certainly unsettling.

The reason becomes apparent soon enough: the couch is not pressed to the wall as much as it usually was.

Not that this was an easy thing to realize… until someone pops out of the gap for no reason outside of wanting to be dramatic, smiling widely at the audience.

“I’m back by popular demand!” Marinette says. She leans her arms on the back of the couch. “I’m not sure why I agreed. He doesn’t pay me. I’m being exploited.”

“I literally do pay you.”

“Riiiiight, of course you do,” she says, winking. “Don’t worry, GCPD people watching this, I am well taken care of. There is no fraud going on.”

“I don’t think I like this bit,” Tim mumbles.

“Sucks to suck! I do!”

He huffs. “Why did I invite you along again?”

“Because Alya said that I didn’t complete the bet and you’re lonely?”

“You know, at some point, I’m going to sue you for slander.”

“Public figures can’t really sue for slander!”

Tim’s eyebrows raised. “Is that true?”

“Yeah. It’s why tabloids get away with everything. Probably worth a google.”

He groans and rests his head in his hands. This does not entirely hide the faint smile on his face or the way his shoulders shake with barely restrained laughter. But it’s the effort that counts. Probably.

“Okay. Editor!Me, roll intro.”

The terrible dubstep intro is back, to everyone’s utter dismay. ‘The Gotham Files, with Tim Drake’ bounces around the screen once again, but it ends soon enough, thankfully.

Unfortunately, it is quickly replaced by another intro, complete with a different terrible dubstep song and set of strobe lights, proclaiming that ‘Marinette is also here!!!!!!!!!!’

People who listen closely can hear both of them giggling in the background.

Then, there is a hard cut to the two of them standing outside of what looks to be a run-down carnival. The sign above them declares the place to be Haly’s, but it has long since been graffitied over to say ‘Hell’s’ instead.

Marinette does not seem particularly happy about this change, gripping her new ‘company-provided’ flashlight (Tim gave her a spare he found lying around his house so she wouldn’t drain her phone battery) like it was a lifeline.

Tim pays it no mind, other than a murmur of how cliche it is. He smiles at the camera. “Now, since my intro was so rudely interrupted by Marinette –.”

“Popping out from behind the couch was your idea.”

“– I will explain everything now! We are at the site of Haly’s circus. Twelve years ago, tragedy struck during a seemingly routine circus act. A trapeze line snapped, and John and Mary Grayson fell to their deaths, right in front of their young son.”

There is a moment of silence for the two fallen.

Tim brightens up the moment sixty seconds have finished passing. “And, dear viewers, this particular case is a special one, because I was there when it happened!”

Marinette frowns just slightly.

Tim laughs and waves her off immediately. “I was three, I don’t remember any of it, don’t worry about it.”

She looks somewhat unconvinced, but glances at the camera and decides to drop it. Her concern is wiped from her face like it had never been there at all. She smiles and elbows him in the side. “I guess it’s… a plan to conquer trauma by adding another trauma on top of it. Men would rather visit a haunted theme park than go to therapy.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not adding more trauma on top of it, I’m not going to be traumatized. There’s nothing here that can traumatize me.”

“The ghosts are going to make it their mission to prove you wrong, you know.”

“Yeah yeah, my hubris will be my downfall, of this I am aware,” he intones. And then he goes back to addressing the camera. “Now, to this day, people suspect foul play, but police refuse to investigate. Perfect conditions for a possible ghost, don’t you think? So, as always, we are here to solve the mystery of whether the supernatural exists!”

“It does. Can we go home now?”

“Thank you for your investigative journalism,” he says sarcastically, but he slings his arm over her shoulder regardless, pulling her into his side. “Besides, you don’t have to worry. With all the stuff I’ve said to diss them over the years, ghosts – if they were real, which they aren’t – would go for me first.”

“Then could you please let go? I don’t want to be near you when that happens,” she teases.

He huffs a laugh and lifts his arm, allowing her plenty of time to get away. She remains close to his side.

He snickers and lets his arm fall right back into its seemingly perpetual spot around her shoulders. “It’s just an hour.” On cue, bright red numbers appear in the top right corner of the screen, a timer waiting for them to step over the threshold before it could start. “Then we can both leave, yeah?”

“Just an hour,” she mumbles disdainfully.

“Hey, I usually stay overnight. We can do that instead, if you want.”

The video cuts to show… someone, sitting at a desk, in the dark. Their silhouette is rather chunky, it is clear they are draped in one of the biggest, fluffiest blankets known to man. But they are not the focus. No, instead the camera zooms in, to look at the two different computer screens in front of the person. One of them is clearly editing software, and the other is on YouTube. Viewers can see that he is apparently listening to the ChipiChipiChapaChapa song on loop, and has been for at least three hours. Now, though, he finally opens a second tab. The keyboard clacks as they google ‘what time is the sunrise in Gotham’. The mouse circles the time stamp on the bottom of the screen, and the person mumbles under their breath. Apparently doing math, because they edit the timer to say 8:06:45.

The viewers are back to the actual video, where Marinette is laughing.

Tim does not join her.

Her laughter does not quite peter off, but it does gain a slightly nervous edge.

“That’s… a joke right?” she says. “You don’t actually stay in haunted places for hours every time, do you?”

“Well, no, but the only reason I don’t is that there is no such thing as a ‘haunted place’. I do hang out at attractions like this overnight, though.”

“Actually, an hour seems fine.”

The video pauses. Editor!Tim heaves a deep sigh and the clock changes back to its original one-hour-long countdown.

“Also, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met,” Marinette huffs when time returns to normal. They finally step into the carnival together, and the timer starts ticking down. “At least try and pretend like you think ghosts could exist, to make things fair.”

“You think that this place has a house of mirrors somewhere?” he asks. “Because I would like to introduce you to the most stubborn person to exist.”

She huffs. She might have rolled her eyes, but she was too concerned with drinking in every detail of the world around them, searching for anything amiss.

There was a lot amiss about the place, to be fair to her. Old popcorn bags lay forgotten on the ground, abandoned in a rush and trampled under hundreds of feet, their previously bright colors muddied by the elements over the years. What had once been gleaming, colorful rides were now rusting. A family of opossums peers at them suspiciously from behind a couple of molding stuffed animals, their eyes gleaming hauntingly when their flashlights turn on them.

But nothing supernatural.

The longer they go without finding anything of note, the more Marinette relaxes.

She tugs at Tim’s backpack, and he gives her a mildly questioning look, but lets her open it and pull out a spray can of bright red paint.

“How –? When –?”

“A lady never reveals her secrets,” she says, smirking, tossing the can from hand to hand.

“Isn’t that saying supposed to be about – uh – demonitizable things?”

“Probably,” she shrugs. “Not my problem, though.”

“Uh. I think it is, actually,” he laughs. “You’re going to give the viewers the wrong idea about you.”

“Oh no. The supernatural-obsessed, parasocial people in your comment section are going to witch hunt me. Oh nooooooo.”

“You know, they’d probably be happy if they managed to kill you. More things for me to investigate – and with a personal element.”

“They’re just mad because they get no –.”

No one can guess what word is bleeped out here.

He groans, but he is still grinning widely. “Don’t insult my audience and their lack of... dates! You know how important my viewer retention rates are to me!”

She sticks her tongue out at him, slipping out from under his arm and walking over to the nearest contraption. It’s a gravitron, from the looks of things – one of those rides where they spin you around so quickly that you can stick to the walls.

Marinette tugs her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose (Tim quickly shifts the camera upwards at the sight of the barest sliver or midriff with mumbles of ‘demonetization’) and spray paints the words ‘Marinette and Tim were here’.

She looks at it for a moment, seemingly thinking hard, before adding a tiny heart next to their names.

Tim groans. “You’re going to make the shippers freak out.”

Her shirt falls away from her face when she tips her head back in a laugh, and she tosses the can into a nearby trash can. It thumps against something inside, but no pissed-off animals come seeking revenge, so they pay this no mind.

“You can always cut it out in editing.”

“Mmmm trueeeeee,” he says, humming thoughtfully. “But I’d prefer not to. Engagement, you know?”

She gives a little hum of her own before leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek.

His face flushes pink. “What was that for?”

“Engagement.”

He gasps and presses the back of his hand to his forehead, like a Victorian woman who is about to faint over a couch because she happened to catch sight of a collarbone. “Oh of course it’s for the views and not for me,” he pretends to pout.

She grins widely, opening her mouth to respond, but it seems that they are not allowed to enjoy themselves and have fun.

For, in that second, the carnival whirrs to life.

Lights, muted and strangely speckled due to the accumulation of years of grime, shine down on them. The speakers crackle to life, playing songs they hadn’t heard in years. The rides creak as their rusty gears are forced into motion once again.

If you, dear viewer, pay close enough attention, you can see the exact moment the light in their eyes dies.

It coincides pretty well with the lights in the park flicking on.

Hence why paying close attention is vitally important.

Needless to say, the kids are stressed. Probably because the abandoned amusement park does not seem all that abandoned anymore.

“Any chance we tripped a motion sensor somewhere?” Marinette asks.

Tim looks like he has accidentally swallowed a lemon. “Uh… I don’t think that they would still be working after this long…”

“Great! Great. That’s what I thought, too,” Marinette says, her voice squeaking in a way that suggests she does not, in fact, think it is great.

“But – but! There is always an explanation for supernatural phenomena,” Tim says, though he is eyeing the contraption warily. It is hard to tell who he is comforting – Marinette, or himself. Hopefully himself, seeing as he was utterly failing to calm down Marinette. “Noxious fumes causing hallucinations, confirmation bias, a trick done by living people for the sake of monetary gain (a la Scoobert Doo), the wind...”

“You know, at some point this loops around to being in denial,” Marinette mumbles, pressing so close to his side that it starts to look like she is trying to meld with him.

“Shut up,” is all he can manage in retort.

There is a loud bang nearby and the pair of teens scream. Their heads spin on a swivel, and the video is briefly impossible to watch without getting sick. By the time things stabilize, the teens have come up with a solution. Marinette points at the big top, the largest and most instantly recognizable building. It’s the only place that would provide proper cover.

Not that that would do that much good against a ghost, but you have to at least try to survive in situations like these.

“There! C’mon!”

Tim makes a vague sound of protest, but Marinette is already running, and he is dragged along for the ride.

Perhaps that is not the best phrasing, since a kiddie ride they pass screeches off the rails, and they only barely stop in time to avoid getting run over by a roller coaster car.

The ghost is hot on their heels.

Marinette and Tim hop the car, adrenaline fueling them, their feet thudding against the dirt.

Neon lights spark and shatter overhead, raining sparks and gas down upon them.

Marinette’s shirtsleeve catches, and Tim is quick to put it out for her, because she doesn’t even seem to notice, too focused on helping him into the circus tent.

It is as if they have walked into another world. A kinder one, without weird ghosts that are trying to kill them for intruding upon the place they had once died. It is blissfully dark, the only sound their own ragged breathing. After all the bright lights and loud sounds and near murder attempts, it is nice.

Electricity whirrs.

A spotlight blares down on them, briefly, a clear I know you’re here, before it slides away, down to its natural resting position in the middle of the tent.

Now, you may know I am here, too.

A man in a torn circus uniform sits in the spotlight, sobbing into his hands. A tarp lay stretched beneath the long-since broken trapeze, almost mockingly, as if the ghost is making a joke about how easily avoidable their deaths had been, if only they had used a net that night. The dust they had kicked up upon entering catches in the spotlight, making it look as if the air itself is reacting to the ghost, dancing with shimmering lights.

Marinette is physically shaking by this point, her nails digging into Tim’s arm hard enough to draw blood. Tim doesn’t look much better, either, his face an ashy gray color.

Red pools in the sand the ghost kneels in.

“... wait,” Tim breathes.

He moves as if to take a step forward, but Marinette is still holding onto him, and she clearly has no intentions of getting any closer to the ghost.

Tim meets her eyes.

“Trust me.”

She bites her lip, but when he moves again she allows herself to be pulled with him.

They make their way down the steps.

He moves to make his way over the railing and jump down into the sand pit, but the lights flicker and go out.

The hand Marinette has on him is the only thing that stops him from braining himself on the ground. He wouldn’t have died, probably, but it still would have been quite an embarrassing moment to have caught on camera.

When the lights turn back on, Tim sends her a grateful smile.

Marinette doesn’t return it. Her eyes are locked on where the ghost is.

Or, was.

She doesn’t seem much more relieved by the lack of it.

Tim jumps down and helps her come down after him. Slowly, they make their way over to where the ghost had been.

He crouches to squint at the pool of blood. Marinette gags and drags her shirt up to cover her mouth and nose again. Tim looks like he very much wants to do the same, but he has other things he needs to do, first. He rifles through his backpack, his eyes never leaving the ground.

“Tim…” she says, quietly. “We should go.”

He sends her a hesitant smile. “I want a sample of this.”

He pulls out a flashlight and points it out into the darkness provided by the tarp.

There stands the ghost.

Well, it isn’t a ghost. A ghost wouldn’t cringe away from a sudden bright light being shone into their eyes. Nor would it be wearing stage makeup.

The grimy-looking clothes check out, though. A+ for effort on that, that trapeze outfit definitely looks like someone died in it.

The man glances behind himself briefly, as if considering running, before his shoulders slump in clear defeat.

He groans. “What gave it away?”

Tim points at the blood on the ground. “It should be dry by now.”

“It’s –? I’m supposed to be a ghost? The blood being wet is not the most unbelievable part?”

There was a long beat of silence.

“Oh,” says Tim.

The man – Dick Grayson, the sole surviving member of the Flying Graysons – looks like he wants to scream. Which he does, but not in the traditional way: “Jay! Cass! Come out!”

Two people step out into the light, looking just as irritable about the whole situation.

They, too, are wearing ratty clothes.

Oh. Praise revoked. The clothes are not a Choice. They are simply poor.

Marinette groans and slumps into Tim, burying her face in his shoulder as if she can’t bear to see the world anymore. He loops his arm around her, dragging her ever closer.

“Ready to stop believing that ghosts are real, yet?” Tim teases softly.

She groans. Again. Louder. She beats her fist against his chest, but there is no real power or anger behind it.

And then she fixes the three homeless people with a tired look. “I understand why you’re doing this and all… like, the economy sucks, get that bag – or free housing, I guess… but…”

There is a long string of beeps as Marinette lets loose a frankly impressive number of swears. It’s doubly impressive when one remembers that she isn’t even speaking in her first language. Go her. Clearly, she took her English lessons very seriously.

When she finally feels better, she flashes a smile and sticks her hand out for the second guy to shake.

“Hi! I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

The guy looks confused, but he shakes it.

The video cuts abruptly. The three homeless people are waving them off as Tim and Marinette head back to his car. The viewers would never get to know exactly what was said that day, but it seems they're leaving each other on well-enough terms.

“Sucks that we went through all of that just to not be able to post any of it,” she sighs. “The GCPD would probably arrest them or something.”

“Nah, it’s fine. We can just cut around it and say it was a front for the mafia. The police hate the poor, but they won't mess with organized crime. Because a lot of them are in it.”

“Oh! Great!” she says. Her tone seems to be almost sarcastic. Almost, because why would it be? It is a great plan.

“I’ll keep the real footage on my Patreon, though. My journalistic credibility shall not be marred.” He winks at the camera. “Say hi to the Patreon viewers.”

While she does lift her hand in a vague wave, she does not seem particularly soothed by his words. Perhaps because his ‘journalistic integrity’ was not at all what she had been concerned about.

“Alright, now, we need to convince the nonpaying viewers that we are scared out of our minds because of mafia b.s., so put on your best concerned face.”

Marinette looks at him.

“Perfect! And we’re rolling again!” He turns to address the camera, all wide eyes and frantic hand movements. “Okay, so, it turns out this place is a mafia hideout. Who knew?”

Marinette’s lips begin to twitch into a slight smile at his antics. “Well, I’m going back to France in a few days, so this is not my problem.”

He gasps. “You’re going to leave me here to die?! After all we’ve been through?!”

“Yep.”

Tim looks devastated.

She giggles. “Fine, fine, I’ll stuff you in my backpack and you can come with me.”

He lights back up again instantly. “Ohmygod! We can have The Gotham Files: World Tour!”

“Mmmm, I only live in France,” Marinette points out, which certainly makes the ‘World Tour’ seem less than stellar all of a sudden.

Tim takes it in stride, though. “The Gotham Files: France Tour!”

She rolls her eyes, but her smile is nothing but fond. “Nice save.”

“I know. I’m kind of awesome.”

“And always right!” she adds, in the kind of tone that suggests they’ve joked like this before many times offscreen.

“And always right,” he agrees, nodding along, sage in his always right-ness.

“Except…” Marinette says, smirking. “You were almost convinced about the ghosts for a second there. I think that means that, somewhere, you know the supernatural exists.”

He doesn’t rise to the bait. He shrugs lazily. “I just think that, if ghosts were real and could affect our reality in any meaningful way, white people just wouldn’t exist anymore.”

It is quiet for a solid nine seconds.

Marinette has stopped walking. Tim slows, turns to look at her, mildly concerned.

“Mari –?”

“Fuck, maybe ghosts don’t exist.”

The video ends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3

[jewwyfeesh]

A Cup of Awakening

Writer: 日日日 (Akira)

Character(s): Isara Mao, Sakuma Ritsu, Anzu

Translated by: jewwyfeesh

Disclaimer: I translated this story from the CN version of the game, which means that it has been double translated (JP > CN > EN).

Mao: Ritchan! Hey! If you’re still alive, then reply me! Wake up!! You’re still alive, aren’t you~? I’m begging you, please…!?

Season: Spring Location: Yumenosaki Academy Lockers Area

Mao: Ooh, Transfer Student. Hello~ ♪

You’re really early – there’s still lots of time before classes start. See? The school’s practically empty ♪

Oh, you came to school earlier to do some self-study? That’s amazing… I didn’t expect you to be so hardworking.

Speaking of which, you transferred over from the ‘Regular Course’, right? You can only rely on studying on your own to fill up any gaps in knowledge you may have.

Then again, Yumenosaki Academy doesn’t give others the impression that it is a gathering place for idols – it’s a rather ‘strange’ school, no?

If there’s anything that you’re unsure of, please do not hesitate to ask me. I’ll help to the best of my abilities~ ♪

Subaru’s the kind of person who’d tell you “Don’t think about it! Just feel!”, while Hokuto… well, he’s quite the blockhead.

Should I say he’s from the elite, or that he’s born into a prestigeous family…? When it comes to people he’s not familiar with, he can’t quite comprehend the other party’s feelings.

But I understand your troubles~ It’s tiring dealing with both of them, right? I’m always exhausted ♪

Mm? I still have a whole bunch of Student Council work that I needa finish. I’ve been working in school since last night.

Even though I think I’m pretty good at my job, somehow, towards the tail end of it, it always devolves into a desparate struggle to finish~ ♪

Aah?! Don’t worry about it, you don’t need to help me move the paper boxes.

There are lots of files in there, which makes it very heavy. I can’t let a lady perform manual labour~

Ahh?? What are you doing? Don’t pull on my hand— what happened?

I understand. I’ll put the box on the floor first, don’t worry. Although I don’t really know what happened, I’ll still think of ways to help you out~

Aish… please spare me from any more troublesome things ♪

Location: Yumenosaki Academy Garden Space

Mao: W-woah. Wh-what happened~? Don’t pull~ I won't hide, and neither will I turn tail and run~

I didn’t expect you to be so rash. But… Why did you bring me here?

Eh? There’s a corpse lying around here? Legit?

If that’s true, you should’ve said it earlier… it’s not a small matter… Hhh, I don’t think I can deal with this on my own~?

What should I do– should I make a police report first? But if a murder really did occur on school grounds, the scandal would be enormous. As a member of the Student Council, I also need to think about how this matter could be covered up… Eh~?

Ritsu: …………

Mao: Ah. Turns out Ritchan’s our ‘corpse’. This guy, sleeping in the bushes yet again…

Ah, don’t worry about it, he’s not dead yet. He’s just snoozing~ ♪ He’s my childhood friend, we got to know each other when we were little.

He’s a pretty weird guy~ Sigh, if it weren’t for me taking care of him, who knows what would have happened… ♪

Yo, Ritchan. Don’t go sleeping in places like these, you gave the Transfer Student quite the scare~

You… When you’re fast asleep, your body temperature drops, very much like a wax figure; it’s also hard to tell if you’re still breathing. You really do look like a corpse you know~?

But uh, you’re not really dead, are you? Your face is a lot paler than usual…

Not to mention it’s been rather chilly these days… If you fall asleep out here… freezing to death mid-nap is a possibility…?

Ritchan! Hey! If you’re still alive, then reply me! Wake up!! You’re still alive, aren’t you~? I’m begging you, please…!?

Ritsu: Mmhh…

Yaaaawn… which idiot’s the one disturbing my nap this time…?

Mao: Ah, he really was just fast asleep.

Wakey wakey, Ritchan. The sunlight’s getting stronger, so if you continue on like that you’ll just damage your body~

Ritsu: Ah, Maa~kun… What happened? I was sleeping so soundly… you shouldn’t have disturbed me.

Mao: Don’t fall back asleep. Why are you always sleeping so much? Did you stay up all night?

Ritsu: That’s because I’m a nocturnal creature…

Ugh, how irritating. Don’t disturb me anymore, Maa~kun. You too, Transfer Student. Why did you bring him over?

Mao: Oh, you know the Transfer Student too? A rare sight for someone as socially awkward as you ♪

Ritsu: It’s because she’s the kind of person that’ll attract your attention~ She’s always running to and fro, always disturbing me when I’m trying to sleep… thus, I have an impression of her. But I won’t say we’re particularly close~

And, I’m not socially awkward.

Mao: You still have the nerve to say it… I’m practically your only friend. You should be more amicable~ After all, aren’t you an idol too?

Ritsu: Whatever. Even if I’m alone in this world of reality, I’m still crowned King in my dreams… yaaaaaaaaaawn ♪

Mao: Ah– And he fell asleep. Again.

Hey, Transfer Student. Could you help me buy a can of coffee from the vending machine over there? I’ll pay for it. I’d like one that will be able to kickstart the brain after just one cup ♪

Ritsu: Mmhh… While I do like the scent of coffee, I don’t like bitter things~

I like sweet things. Soda would be good… those that fizzle and pop… they’d wake me up in an instant~ ♪

Mao: Don’t be stubborn! Gosh… Ritchan, have you always been this hopeless?

Ritsu: Well, Maa~kun’s someone who likes to meddle in other people’s business ever since the very beginning… ♪

[bots-and-cons]

So I saw you replied to my ask about me forget to verify what I was asking for, I apologize for that lol. For the Dreadwing and Predaking HCs, for their S/O to be a baker? (Nb)

I bake a lot in my spare time or when I feel down so I end up with like a mountain of sweets lying around, but it's very therapeutic.

I just wanna read how you think they would react to there S/O making so much to the point there's no counter space.

But since there is so much they can't freeze or refrigerate them all so they end up bringing them for kids who don't have such money for that kind of stuff. Like there S/O grew up in a poor neighborhood (Kinda like i did) And knew a lot of the residents there.

And them they offer to help to hand them all out and one of the elders go to DW or Pk and go "I haven't seen them this happy before, you must make them very happy" and the boys take high pride of that, but internally they are like rolling and crying because they didn't know.

Sorry I like to ramble-

~Anon

I did these separate since you didn't specify. I did this like a holoform thing for the cons, because I felt like it would make it easier to write

~Predaking~

•You bake when you’re upset or just have enough free time, whichever it happens to be, you bake a lot at a time

•Predaking isn’t really much help with the baking thing, but he can certainly taste test

•He’s in his holoform, since he can’t exactly fit into your house in his normal robot form and he wouldn’t be able to taste the sweets and stuff if he wasn’t using his holoform

•You’re always very kind to people, but you don’t really smile that much, sure you have a ind look on your face, but like a genuine, happy smile? Not very often

•You ask him if he could help you share what you’d baked with the neighborhood kids, and while he doesn’t really like human children, he agrees

•Predaking’s holoform is a very tall human dude, with semi long hair and a pretty neat style of clothing, like I’d say it’s cardigans rather than hoodies

•The kids are kind of scared of him to be honest, he is pretty intimidating after all, but since you’re with him they don’t mind that much

•When he’s getting more stuff out from the boxes, and elderly lady comes to tap him on the shoulder

•His reaction is pretty much, “What do you want, old woman?” and he has a bit of annoyed look on his face

•The lady is just smiling at him and tells him “You make them very happy. I haven’t seen them smile like that in a long time”

•Predaking looks back down at the boxes because he knows humans blush and his holoform of course works the same

•So he’s all red in the face when you come back with an empty box, and ask him if everything’s okay

•The old lady has moved to a nearby bench and is just giving Predaking a gentle, encouraging smile and a nod

•You’re wondering what’s going on with these two, but you just wave at the lady and she’s smiling and nodding

•Predaking is just looking at you the whole time, and while you’re not smiling widely, you are smiling and do seem happy

•His mind is going a million miles a minute thinking about how proud he is that he can make you happy

•Predaking is in his own head and when you finally get his attention, you’re like “Let’s go shall we? We have more sweets to share” with such a bright smile it’s damn near blinding

•Predaking just looks at you softly, and with adoration in his eyes, as you’re already walking towards the kids, you truly are such a wonderful person and he wonders how he ever got so lucky

~Dreadwing~

(•Same holoform situation with Dreadwing though his of course looks different)

•Dreadwing was a bit apprehensive about the amount of sweets you were baking, because what are you gonna do with all of those?

•He tastes some of them and wants more but he’s trying to show some restraint, because he could probably eat a ton of everything you’ve made

•You’re pretty much covered if flour and stuff after you’re done, but you’re happy with what you’ve gotten done

•You ask Dreadwing if he would like to come with you to give some of the baked goods to the neighborhood kids and since he wants to make you happy and make sure you’re safe, he agrees

•He tries to act nice to the kids, but he has a bit of a scary face and he doesn’t really know how to deal with human children so you’re pretty amused about the situation

•Dreadwing eventually just tells the kids to get in line and wait for their turn, he’s pretty stern about it though and the kids are a bit intimidated, so they do what he tells them to

•He’s keeping order while you’re like “you don’t need to be so strict, they’re just kids” and the kids of course join in on telling him the same thing

•Dreadwing just rolls his eyes and goes in to get more sweets, but he’s stopped by and elderly lady that just nods at him approvingly

•He doesn’t really know what that means so he asks, “What is it you mean elder?”

•The lady just tells him, “They’re very happy with you, you make them smile like I haven’t seen in ages”

•Dreadwing just looks back at you and when you catch him looking you smile at him

•He hadn’t really realized such a thing, but now that he knows he’s feels honored that he could make you happy

•Even he smiles a little bit back at you, which makes you look at him oh so very softly and smile more

[ratcandy]

What are some of those zote mischaracterizations that you've seen? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I'm just very curious.

Well I mean. Ok let me explain. rant ahead because of COURSE it is

I've got a history of liking mean little bastard characters. Favorite archetype ever is when a little guy is mean. More specifically, when that little guy is mean and arrogant. That's just fun for me to play with!

And well. Zote is both of these things! Hence why I latched onto him so easily The mischaracterizations I've seen are mostly just... erasing. Either of these aspects. Suddenly he's not mean, or not arrogant, and it's... Huh. How did you get there.

I've seen Zote characterizations where he'll be snappy but back off if someone shows they're offended. I've seen this man APOLOGIZE in situations where he would NOT do that.

He is mean!!! Zote is mean!!! He calls Ghost names and threatens to "cut [them] down" for "stealing his prey" (when he was actively dying), and doesn't even Hesitate when thrown into the Colosseum. This guy refuses to thank you for saving his life. TWICE. He is NOT going to apologize for hurting feelings.

And if Bretta's writing is to be believed, he went and told the whole town (or just Bretta) that Ghost was some sort of horrible monster. For kicking his ass in Colo. Even if Ghost spared his life, which is decidedly NOT a thing that most bugs do in the Colosseum. He sucks!! My guy is an asshole!!!!!

Like yeah he's incompetent and there's argument to be had about him being all bark and little bite, but if you write him Soft or Polite or the type to back down from an argument, then. That's just not my guy. That's Not him.

If you argue that he's gone through some sort of revelation and changed for the better then that's one thing, but if you just suddenly have Zote there, decidedly being rather level-headed, not self-centered, and showing a weird amount of care for people around him, it just feels. Off

Zote is Mean. Zote has a Big Ego. Yes, I rummaged through that man's psyche and fucked him up real good to make him deeper than he seems, but I did NOT get rid of the Mean and the Arrogant. At least not the fronted mean arrogance. Like I'm totally good with the interpretation that it's all a front to mask insecurities (considering what I wrote of him, lmao) but you can't just. NOT have the meanness. You can't get rid of the grandeur and pretend it's not there

And he's got other flaws I've seen people try n erase too! Like lying! Zote is a liar, that is a thing he does pretty plainly. To Ghost's face, even. To think he's not because of that one precept saying "Speak Only the Truth" would be taking a lot at face value for a character proven to be unreliable. He's also got a precept saying "Respect Your Superiors." Do you think he does that. Like genuinely

Anyway all I'm saying is that you can like a mean character without trying to get rid of the meanness. Please don't sandpaper my guy ...And honestly listen I like the idea of soft Zote moments as much as the next Zote liker, in fact I LOVE that idea, but there needs to be proper Set Up. u cannot just tell me he's like that and would be like that how he is canonically. I need to Believe it

[softguarnere]

Hi, Dove! I saw that you’ve been doing ships, and I wanted to try it! I've never done this before, so I'm a little nervous, but this seemed like fun and I’ve had a tough week at work soooo yeah (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

I’m Amber, she/her, from Louisiana. I’m around 5’8 and I have brown eyes and curly brown hair.

I’m an introvert, and it takes a while for me to feel comfortable around people, but once I do I’m pretty talkative and full of sarcasm and pop culture references. I’m also a terrible procrastinator (even with things that I want to do??? Idk) and a perfectionist; if i don’t think I can do something perfectly I just don’t do it at all, which is something that I’m really trying to work on. My love language is words of affirmation. If someone pays me a genuine compliment I will think about it for days! I’m an Enneagram type 9 (Peacemaker). I have a VERY hard time telling people ‘no’ and sometimes agree to do things just to keep others happy, another thing that I’m trying to work on.

I spend my free time watching tv/movies, reading, and making gifs. I always carry a book with me, in case I have a spare minute to read. I’ve been told that I’m a dramatic reader, I can’t keep my reactions to myself and I end up with people asking me what’s happening in my book! However, I’ve mastered my poker face when I read fanfiction 😌 I love driving places because I can have concerts in my car, although I’d rather have someone drive me around and just let me sing… I buy new journals and planners every year, sometimes multiple a year, but I’m not the best at actually using them….I just love how pretty they are and how put together they make me feel when I do use them!

I’m a teacher of two year olds at a childcare center, so my day is full of loud/energetic toddlers! I love my job, and while I do hope to be a mom one day, I’m also very happy when I get to go home to the quiet and my cat! I attend church every Sunday, and I also teach children’s church on Wednesday nights.

Ok, that’s all I can think of to put about myself….I hope this rambling is somewhat coherent! Thank you for taking the time to do this and for sharing your writing!! 🥰

Hi Amber! Thank you so much, I'm so glad that you've enjoyed what I've shard so far 🥰 I love your gifs, so I feel like I'm talking to a celebrity rn hehe 🙈 I'm sorry that you've had a tough week, and I hope it gets better soon! Sending some positive vibes your way ✨

I ship you with . . .

Joseph Liebgott!

I am once again on my introverts with extroverts agenda because I stand by it! When y'all first meet, he would be so determined to see if he could bring you out of your shell. And when he does he would just immediately be so head over heals for you. You guys would have so many inside jokes, and he's thrilled that someone finally gets all his witty references

He would be so supportive of all your endeavors, especially if it's something that you want to do but keep putting off (as someone whose executive dysfunction constantly holds her back, I really feel your pain babe!) One of his main love languages is touch, so if you need it he'll just kind of hold you and softly tell you positive affirmations until you feel like you're at a good place to get going, or at least to start

And omgggg, this man would be throwing compliments at you left and right, especially when you first meet, just because he knows it gets to you and he loves the way you light up when he does it

No but Joe is actually pretty good at communicating what he wants and needs, and that's the hill I will die on. If he sees that you're having a hard time telling someone no, he would be so willing to step in for you and make sure that you don't agree to something that you don't want to do

We all know he likes to read comics, but when you get together his favorite hobby becomes reading comics while he holds you. (Actually, maybe just holding you is his favorite hobby) Either way, if you're lying together on the couch to read, he feels like he's on cloud nine, just because it's so peaceful and makes him feel content. Sometimes he doesn't even read -- he just watches you read because he loves watching how expressive you are

He's a great driver. Does he sometimes get a little angry at everyone else on the road? Yeah, but he drives for a living, so we'll let him have this. Sometimes he gets fed up with driving and wishes that he could just stay home instead, especially if he has to drive out of his way for something on one of his days off. But if you're in the car, he can't even get mad at anyone, because he's too busy trying to sing duets with you, or letting you put on your own personal concert for him. Those are the moments when he thinks he might actually like driving, just because he gets to have fun with you

Okay but I feel like one day you pick up a journal, determined to finally use it, and your heart just drops because omg there's writing in it? Did I accidentally buy a used one somehow? But then you realize it's Lieb's handwriting, and he's written down little notes and drawn little doodles/comics so that you can enjoy them while you're working

Omg he would love your job and how passionate you are about working with kids. After all, he knows that he wants to be a dad some day. He definitely listens to you tell stories about funny things your kids have said and done and it just kinda makes his heart glow because he knows that if you guys decide to have kids that you would be an amazing mom, and he would be so excited to go on that journey with you

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you liked this 💕🕊️

[archonate-seorwen]

In Medias Res: A KOTOR Fanfiction - Chapter Four

Night had practically fallen. I was walking silently through the streets of a relatively posh area near the neighbourhood where Carth and I had settled. On this evening, which was likely to be a very special one, it had been agreed that I should get rid of some of the clothes that might too easily suggest my commitment to the Republic.

The gathering I was supposed to infiltrate may indeed have hosted a few handfuls of Republic officials, but my attire reflected anything but a civilian look. It was crucial that I never betrayed my affiliation with the Republican armed forces. Consequently, Carth and I had to thoroughly search the apartment we were occupying for any clothing that would allow me to go unnoticed. The task was by no means easy, as our shelter had obviously been deserted for a long time and had little to spare apart from a dark jacket, which was intended to be relatively dressy, but not luxuriously made. It was impossible to know how long this garment had been lying around, but it was obvious that it needed some alterations. So I had taken a moment to do a quick but effective cleaning, thus avoiding the need to wait hours for the fabric to dry. At the same time, I had also taken the opportunity to give myself a quick wash. When I had finally left the apartment to head for the reception, I was wearing the so-called jacket over my black undershirt, the collar of which went up to the base of my neck, together with a pair of ordinary straight trousers and Carth's pair of boots, which looked considerably less martial than my own.

When I put on each of these clothes, I figured that such an outfit would attract much more attention than my regular suit. However, against all expectations, I had to admit that the result was not as disastrous as I had pictured. I could even say that I felt rather elegant.

As I made my way to the position indicated by the data, I spotted small groups of people here and there seemingly going to the same place as I was. I couldn't tell if these people were Sith, Republic officials, or last minute invitees like I was. Or rather like Carth.

I suddenly felt a particularly discomforting pressure building up in my throat. What a story I was getting into. I, an amnesiac linguist. Stuck on a planet that was being gridded by the Sith, trying to come up with the most absurd solutions to find a Jedi woman considered by many to be a living legend. I slowed my pace and slipped my hand under my jacket, then used my index and middle fingers to check the small pocket in my undershirt, sewn between my left armpit and pectoral. I could feel a thin relief, which I then pinched with two fingers, as if to make sure it was really there. It was the card that Sarna had given to Carth today. The key to the celebrations.

As I was still unconsciously pinching the item, I got jostled by one of the small groups of people, pacing the street. Instinctively I put my hand flat against my pocket to prevent the card from falling out, then turned to face the cause of the collision. Behind me were two people, two women, staring at me with a look of both regret and hilarity. One, a human with particularly dark brown hair, who was probably in her late thirties, seemed to be trying to regain some form of seriousness. The other, a small blue-skinned Twi'lek, was definitely not about to leave her perfectly joyful disposition. These two women were apparently already in a fairly festive mood, and looked somewhat uninhibited without being particularly drunk, which was rather reassuring as I suspected the Twi'lek to be in her teens. They were obviously two friends embarking on a wild night out. I removed my hand from my jacket and kept observing the women, both looking more and more embarrassed. The human took a quick glance at her friend, took a step closer to me, and with her hand landing on my arm, she began to talk:

« I beg your pardon, Sir. » She spoke in a voice filled with the playfulness attitude she couldn't quite shake off, but nevertheless sounded sincere. « We weren't careful enough. Did we hurt you? »

I made no immediate reply. I cast an eye over the young Twi'lek, watching her friend with great curiosity and clearly fighting back the urge to laugh.

« No, don't worry. I'm okay. » I eventually stated, returning my eyes to the female human. I gave a slight nod, and then, ready to get back on my way, I finished:

« Have a nice time, ladies. »

I turned around and carried on, but kept an ear out for what was whispering behind my back. The two women were still standing at the same place and seemed to be chatting away. I could hardly make out what was being said, and the further away I got, the more inaudible their words became. However, between two bursts of laughter, I managed to catch a few snatches of sentences:

« ...I told you so... Come on! Hurry up! ... is leaving! »

As I got further away from the two friends, my mind went back to its primary task: the reception, finding a way to get to the lower town safely and... legally, if possible. I had to be clever and cautious. I had no idea what to expect from such an event. And the more time passed, the more I feared that I would be left without a solution when I got back to Carth.

« Wait! »

I paused and looked back in the direction of the voice that had just called out to me. A few steps away, I could see the human jogging to me, outpacing her young friend, who wasn't in much of a hurry.

« How can I help you? » I asked.

The woman interrupted her run a couple of steps away from me and fixed her gaze on me awkwardly. She looked as if she wanted to speak to me, but the words were obviously not coming out. I gave her some time - time that allowed me to have a better examination of her. She was dressed in a sort of dark green suit, and held in her right hand a small pouch of a similar shade. Her almost black hair, waving generously over her shoulders and upper back, enhanced her particularly white skin and pale eyes, whose precise colour I could not define in the darkness of the falling night. This woman certainly had a strong poise, there was no denying it. An appearance that reminded me of Commander Shan. However, the woman in front of me radiated an uncertainty that the female Jedi did not display at all. While my eyes wandered clumsily over her features, I briefly paused at her left wrist, which, under the sleeve of her jacket, presented a flesh-coloured bandage. A shade usually chosen to keep the bandage as inconspicuous as possible. Yet on the woman's pale skin it was particularly striking. I could not focus on this detail for long, however, as her other hand reached out and tugged the sleeve over the bandage. I lifted my eyes to hers. This time she was staring at me with a manner that I found almost threatening. Realising that my somewhat sustained observation had offended her, I tried to calm her down:

« I hope it's nothing too serious. » I said with a demure smile that was meant to be friendly.

At once her gaze softened and she responded to my smile timidly. Perhaps she was even somewhat moved by my concern.

« No. » She replied, still quite embarrassed. « Nothing at all. I don't like sores, I just wanted to cover that scratch. » During our interaction, I noted that the little Twi'lek had moved much closer to us, but she kept a respectable distance.

« I guess I didn't get it right. » The human concluded beneath some artificial laughter.

« I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. » I spoke.

« No, I am just too attached to how I look. » She responded with sudden cheerfulness.

« We have a reception tonight, and I wanted to present properly. »

It was strange. Couldn't stand the sight of a wound, or did she want to look presentable? These two arguments in themselves could work, but not sequentially in such a short period of time. I was certainly a bit lost in all this, but that didn't make me a complete and utter idiot. This woman was hiding something from me. I was sure she was trying to make a fool of me. I had to be careful. In the meantime, I had to keep playing with her.

« You don't present well? » I questioned rhetorically.

The woman shot me a surprised look, and then gave a generous smile, to which I responded. A series of beeps brought us out of this moment of what could finally be described as a sort of flirtation. I looked up in the direction of these sounds, and could tell that they were coming from the teenager a little further away. The woman also turned her attention to her. The small Twi'lek busied herself energetically and pulled a communicator out of a small satchel on her belt that seemed to have been cobbled together from spare materials. The very young woman then stepped away from us and took the call. From where we were, it was impossible to overhear. The human turned to me again and grinned again as she shrugged her shoulders.

« Are you going to the reception too? » She asked me expectantly.

« Yes, I am. » I replied, looking warily at the Twi'lek before regaining the woman in front of me. « I am Amon. » I added, holding out my hand, which she quickly grasped.

« Sivir. » She revealed with a broad smile. « I am a civil servant. I was in charge of security matters in the nearby sectors. »

I widened my eyes. But I made sure to regain a composed stance, so as not to awake any suspicion of the new interest I might now have in her. If only she wasn't lying to me.

« You were? » I stressed as I finally released Sivir's hand.

« Yes, when the Sith arrived, they took over our facilities and made themselves in charge of everything. » She said with some measure of irritation. « Oh, no worries, I still have a job! » She added. « But we're given less freedom than before. »

I nodded absently. For all the problems she apparently had to face, this meeting might turn out to be miraculous. This woman could perhaps help me. I just had to buy more time and demonstrate to her that I was trustworthy. I needed to remain vigilant though, because I couldn't be sure who I was truly dealing with.

Was she really trustworthy? After all, she might be spending her days with the Sith, and she was invited to a reception originally organised between unscrupulous Republicans and those very same Sith. And I had the feeling that she and her young friend were playing with me. What an odd pair they were.

« What about you? You've been invited to the reception ? » Sivir questioned in a curious voice. I glanced back at her and, just as I was about to stammer out a few sentences, a shrill whistle ravaged our ears, and those of the other pedestrians walking down the street. It was the Twi'lek again. Sivir spun in her direction. The teenager raised her right hand boldly and waved at her friend; a gesture so highly perched that the sleeve of her blouse rolled down to her elbow, revealing a series of countless trinkets hanging from her wrist. Sivir responded with a knowing nod. The very young woman waved again, more conventionally and hurried away.

« How curious. » I thought, following the girl with my eyes.

« Her boyfriend must have woken up. » Sivir said. « Friends come after boys, that's how it is at her age. »

It made sense. But I couldn't help but wonder.

« Amon ? » The woman called out. I finally turned my attention back to her.

« Yes... er... » I tried before replying more calmly.

« I'll be very honest with you. I have absolutely no good reason to be at the reception. » I saw the young woman's forehead wrinkle as I was explaining myself. « I am a lecturer. Last night I went for a drink with a colleague in a local cantina. A slightly drunk woman came up to us and gave us a pass to the reception here. Nothing more. »

The young woman blinked repeatedly before answering.

« Why are you alone then? »

« My friend is lucky to have a family life. » I replied in a voice feigning bitterness. « And I only arrived on Taris recently, I don't have anyone besides my colleagues. I thought that this party could be an opportunity to meet people. » I added, my gaze locked firmly on Sivir, so much so that I could see her cheeks beginning to redden.

« It certainly looks promising. » She answered, with renewed self-control. I held out my arm, and with a seductive smile on my lips, I offered:

« Will you come with me? »

Sivir threw an almost delighted glance at me, as if she had been waiting for this since the beginning of our interaction. She grabbed my arm with a delicate hand and said warmly:

« I'd love to. »

Together we headed for the reception location. I was not quite proud of what I was doing. It wasn't in my nature to toy with people as I was doing just now. But the situation required this kind of actions. And I must admit that a part of me was not completely unaffected by Sivir's allure. Nevertheless, I had to bear in mind my short and long term objectives: the lower city, to find Bastila Shan.

We walked for another ten minutes or so before reaching the party. I needed to demonstrate enough ingenuity and subtlety to keep my lies alive. I had made up a whole new life for myself, a whole new career. Of course, I had not been spared the worst possible questions: which institution I was attached to, where was I before that, etc. I then pretended to be a temporary lecturer, so that I could remain fairly vague about the places I was working in. I was now officially a teacher at the beginning of his career, with a background in literary translation, a very ungrateful field in which I had never managed to break through, hence my supposed decision to switch to teaching. She didn't look suspicious about my story, quite the opposite. She appeared genuinely sorry for me, that I had not been able to make a living from what was meant to be one of my greatest interests.

The place where the reception was held was a huge mansion, overlooking the whole area we had just passed through. The building was at least three storeys high, and its façade consisted of gigantic white stone columns which ended in a red roof similar to havod. An elegant shade, particularly valued by the wealthier classes.

We didn't particularly struggle to get into the building. A security guard had merely checked my pass, not paying attention to the number of guests it mentioned. Sivir and I were both allowed in without attracting any attention. I reasonably assumed that her possible status as a civil servant in a structure as valuable as Security made her a known personality. Or at least vaguely recognisable. In any case, I was inside. There was no need to bother with these questions. Now it was a matter of collecting useful information, if not practical solutions.

At the very beginning of this night, Sivir and I stayed with each other, continuing our talks as we wandered through the maze of rooms that this huge mansion housed. Strangely enough, I felt her much less interested in me than when we were outside. Deciding not to pay any more attention to these concerns, I took advantage of my wanderings to observe our surroundings, and I had to admit that nothing really caught my eye. It was a conventional reception: countless small groups of people talking about everything and nothing, a glass of alcohol in hand. How was I going to find my way through this mess? How was I going to carry out my assignment? As we made our way to another crowded room, I decided to interrogate Sivir, who certainly could provide me with some useful information.

« You said you were working for...? » I started, waiting for her to finish my question.

She gave me a surprised pout. Her gaze shifted and she brought the glass that had just been handed to her and sipped a very small amount of her drink.

« Department of Security. » She replied dryly, her lips still brushing the glass.

So she was acting on several fronts. That was the only reason for her sudden aloofness, or rather coldness. It didn't matter, I had to question her more about what she was doing. I took a sip of the same drink that had been given to me. It was apparently a sugary wine. Not unpleasant. I took a second sip, then resumed my attempts at interrogation.

« It must be quite stressful, I guess. » I said beneath a subdued and rather unauthentic laugh.

« Indeed. » The woman responded without further elaboration.

I sighed wearily, awkwardly. I decided to stop talking for the moment. I just watched the young woman. Not only had she gone completely mute, but she wasn't even looking at me. I noticed that she was much more interested in the guests than she was in me. And as I went through the reverse chain of thought, I realised that she had been scanning every room we had passed through. Or rather, every room she had walked through while I was following her.

It was now quite obvious. There was no desire on her part to share a lovely evening by my side. She had got inside, and had very soon undertaken a thorough examination of every room in the mansion. My presence was at best irrelevant, at worst deeply annoying. I couldn't help but feel upset, even though I was playing a similar game after all, although perhaps with greater naivety. I didn't know what she was up to here, but I could tell that she wasn't here to enjoy mundanities. So what should I do? Split up and resume the course of my own quest as originally planned, alone? Or try to confront her with what she was hiding? The second option looked far more appealing to me, despite the fact that it was far from reasonable.

Never mind.

« How long have you been planning to sneak into this party? » I asked in a whisper.

Suddenly, Sivir took her eyes off the crowd and, for the first time since we got there, she met my gaze, and she clearly could not suppress her shock at such an unexpected question. I went on less discreetly:

« You could have just told me about it instead of making eyes at me. »

Sivir cast a few peeks around us, no doubt to make sure we were not drawing any attention. Then she regained my gaze and, in an authoritative tone, she replied:

« A lecture from a false teacher who has no business being here is pretty entertaining. »

It was my turn to be caught off guard. I stared at the woman with my eyes so wide open that more would have been painful. My expression provoked her to laugh in satisfaction.

« You obviously don't know the instructional policies here. Taris has not recruited any temporary teachers since the last three revolutions. Here, things are done by competitive examination only, and these are only open to people who have followed the curriculum offered in the universities of Taris. In other words, nothing you have told me makes sense. I'm up to date on a lot of things. »

She sipped some more wine, with the same contented look, and continued:

« But I really enjoyed your tales of being in difficult classrooms. It was worth the effort. It was like being there. Now, let me handle my own business, and I'll let you handle yours. »

With that, she finished her drink and warned me in a controlled voice:

« Be careful. The Sith do not treat the survivors of the Republican cruiser lightly. »

Sivir then walked out of the room, leaving me like a perfect fool standing in a corner holding, my drink. I breathed heavily. How could she have known I was on the Endar Spire? I discreetly inspected my outfit, looking for the slightest clue revealing this reality that had to remain hidden. As much as I looked at every square inch of my clothes, of my appearance, I could not find any indication of this. How did she know? Who was she? And what about the young Twi'lek who had run away after a curious call? What were those two up to? I had to keep an eye on her. At least we shared some kind of secret intention. Perhaps she could still be useful in my business.

The night went on without much progress on my part. The more time passed, the more my confidence faded. I was obviously not the man for such a situation. In the space of a couple of minutes I had succeeded in being spotted by an utter stranger, so what could I expect from my acting performance among Sith officials?

Each of my attempts to join a group had sometimes ended in friendly embraces, but mainly with nothing useful to report. How could I get anything out of these people without raising suspicion?

I now found myself grafted onto another small group of Sith, and just as I was beginning to seriously consider ending my seemingly time-consuming infiltration, they brought up topics that finally caught my attention. Indeed, alongside these few people, I had been able to learn a little more about the gangs that were operating in the lower city. Two groups were leading in these conflicts between scoundrels and criminals: the Hidden Beks and the Black Vulkars. The first was led by a guy named Gadon Thek, while the other was under the governance of a guy named Brejik. The gangs were giving the newly arrived Sith a hard time. The reverse was also true. It was said that some of the Beks had the habit of going up to the upper city by devious, and sometimes particularly acrobatic, routes. I didn't know what it was all about, but I assumed that it was a matter of rather sporty infiltration. This meant that it was possible to get to the lower city by circumventing Sith security. But how to get in touch with a Hidden Bek?

« We're trying to seal the cracks, but that's just not possible. » I heard from one of the guests. « This vermin can sneak in anywhere. As soon as you cut off their access, you can be sure they'll find another one within the hour. »

« They know their city, Musthar. » Another person replied calmly. « We've only been here a short time. We couldn't expect anything else. And the Republic has done a disastrous job in repressing these gangs. »

« Oh, we're not getting any help, that's for sure. » The man ended as he brought his glass to his lips.

As silence fell in the group, I forced myself to dare to ask a question that could be perceived suspiciously:

« But then... » I began, faking naive curiosity. « How can you spot a Hidden Bek among the regular population? »

The few Sith all gave me a look that I couldn't describe. What was real, however, was my violent surge of nervousness, which I tried my best to repress. Seeing that my question had obviously caught the attention of my very temporary party mates, I allowed myself a few more words:

« Sorry. » I said with a falsely uncomfortable countenance. « I'm a tradesman, and your arrival has somewhat affected my business trips. I wasn't supposed to be here this long. »

Musthar and most of his colleagues gave an understanding smile, and then they returned to their initial attitude. However, the woman who had spoken to the man did not take her eyes off me.

« The Hidden Beks are not so good at hiding. » The man finally replied. « These dummies perform a barbaric ritual of red-hot branding every new member. A luminous idea coming from their leader. Souvenir of the Mandalorian Wars, it is said. They all have some sort of little cross on the underside of their right wrist. »

On the underside of the wrist? Suddenly an image of my evening came back to me. Sivir. The flesh-coloured bandage. And her very young friend, who wore an impressive array of trinkets around her wrist. Was it the right one? I couldn't remember. The little Twi'lek had gone so quickly that I hadn't had time to think about such a detail. However, a lot of things seemed to make sense. I knew for sure that these two young women were up to something. Sivir had used me to infiltrate the party, and hadn't waited long before going about her own business, leaving me out of the loop.

« How did a simple tradesman get invited to this party? »

I looked up at the person who had just asked this question so sternly that my blood froze in the next second. It was this woman, who had always kept her eyes on me. She was definitely distrustful of me. And I couldn't blame her.

« Play it smart for once. » I thought.

I glanced down for a moment and sighed defeatedly, which appeared to feed the woman's distrust of me. I raised my head, and, staring resolutely at her, said:

« Well, to be perfectly frank with you. » I dared. « I met a colleague of yours today in the Market District cantina. She offered me to have a drink with her and her friends. I accepted, and... » I paused and reached into my pocket for the tiny card that had enabled me to be here tonight, then handed it to the female Sith.

« ...she gave me this. »

The Sith extended her hand and seized the card, inserting it into a small data pad which she took out of a satchel. As she inspected the contents of the card, I continued:

« I'm sorry, I know I have no business here. I was just curious to be part of an event like this. »

The woman carried on looking at the data for a while. Then I cast a glance at her colleagues. Musthar and another Sith looked quite entertained by the moment, whilst the other two shared awkward stares. I assumed that those looks were mostly due to the woman's unfriendly demeanour. Suddenly my attention was caught by the woman again, she sighed slightly, removed the card from the pad and held it out to me again. I immediately grabbed it and shot the Sith a questioning look.

« I told you that we should make a clean sweep of our workforce. » She said to her colleagues. « Our men and women can' t do anything better than hang out in the cantinas and get drunk out of their skulls. Here's what we get. »

She added, gesturing at me with a rather condescending nod. The men around her now glanced at her in shock at what she was saying and in approval, which was expected of them. Slowly, the group appeared to be trying to disengage from me, and began to pace towards another room. Before leaving me for good, the woman threw me a warning:

« Don't be overly curious, if you don't want trouble. »

Then they all disappeared into the maze of rooms of the massive edifice. I was alone again, but with some interesting information. This rather uncomfortable encounter with these people prompted me not to hang around here any longer. I had somehow been spotted. It was unwise to repeat the process with others. I had to start thinking about leaving this place. I quietly cleared my throat and placed my glass on the edge of what looked like a fireplace. With a confident step, I walked through several halls, heading for the exit. Several dozen meters from there, I slowed my pace until I stopped, having caught sight of Sivir out of the corner of my eye as she looked to be following a Sith with whom she had obviously been in the midst of some sort of exchange. The way the man was staring at her left no room for questioning: he had some kind of plan in his head.

She must have known exactly what she was doing. I didn't have to worry about what was going to happen between these two. I walked back in the direction of the exit. However, I couldn't help but think that this woman could be of some help to us. I paused again, and turned my head back to Sivir and the man. Hardly had I noticed that they were about to walk up a staircase. I glanced back at the exit and sighed.

« Damn it. » I muttered.

With no further delay, I swung round and headed for the stairs that the two party companions had just climbed. Down here, I could perceive some female laughter which left little doubt about the identity of the one responsible for it. I went up the steps and reached a wide corridor. A few inebriated people were wandering around. I walked down the corridor, at a measured pace, in search of Sivir and the Sith. A few dozen metres further on, the corridor opened up into a large room where several couples were seemingly engaged in pleasures that would have deserved a little more privacy from my perspective. I searched the room for Sivir, who I eventually spotted at the other end, and saw her going through a door into another room. Resolutely I started down the path to what I hoped would be the last room, when I was suddenly gripped by the arm. I spun round and saw a woman, clearly quite altered, clinging awkwardly to me.

« Will you take me, handsome? » She asked, as lustful as she was drunk. I gently laid my hand on her own arm, intending to lead her to a seat without rushing her.

« Not tonight, I'm really sorry. » I lied as I settled her on the bench. She showed an exaggeratedly disappointed pout which provoked me to laugh with amusement.

« Too bad for you then! » She added, before breaking into a fit of laughter in response to mine.

« Too bad for me. » I finished warmly.

I eventually headed back to the room that Sivir and the Sith had entered. When I got there, I leaned forward and listened for a while. I could not hear anything in particular. I had to go in and find out. Just as I was about to pull the handle, a scream broke out in the room. A high-pitched voice. Sivir's. I quickly opened the door and ran straight into the room. A few metres away I saw the young woman in a visibly bad position against the man. Her jacket was lying miserably on the floor, and the top she was wearing underneath showed several cuts. I also noticed that her so-called bandage was partially unstuck. But this was not the time to examine the room thoroughly, I needed to neutralise this man who was obviously abusing the woman. I moved towards the Sith without him even noticing my presence. I grabbed him hard by the collar and brought him up behind me so that he no longer had any direct access to Sivir. The man looked totally bewildered by my presence. But I did not give him a chance to recover, for almost instinctively I delivered a hook with all my weight. I could feel and hear a cracking sound which clearly indicated that I had just broken some bones. The man immediately collapsed into a state of deep unconsciousness.

I turned back to the woman, who was looking at me in awe, her arms folded against her very partially exposed chest. A few seconds passed and Sivir finally broke out of her daze, rushing towards the Sith. Thinking then that I had misjudged the scene I had witnessed, I spoke a few words:

« I'm sorry, Sivir. I thought he was after you. »

The young woman remained silent and worked on the unconscious man. I took a step in their direction, and then used the moment to check Sivir's wrist. She obviously noticed, because only a second later she moved her head towards me and tore off the rest of her bandage, revealing a small cross on her pale skin.

« Yes, it does hide what you think! That's why he went crazy! » She barked. « Happy ? »

Without waiting for an answer, she took her eyes off me and focused her attention back on the Sith. She was searching him. Within a dozen seconds, she picked up a small data pad and inspected it thoroughly. After a few manipulations, she stood up, the pad in her hands, and turned back to me:

« We need to leave now, before he wakes up and reports us. »

« That's fine with me. » I replied.

« I don't care whether it's fine with you or not! » She stormed out angrily. « We're leaving, end of story. We're leaving together, just like we came in earlier. Once we're out, you do what you want, I'm getting back in the lower city. »

« Don't you think it would be wiser under the circumstances if you didn't try to return down there? If the guy wakes up soon, he's going to alert every Sith in the area. Security will be strengthened without delay. »

The young woman made no response. She looked pensive.

« A colleague and I are occupying an apartment in a nearby neighbourhood. You will be safe there for the night. » I added.

Sivir sighed. Then she cast me a troubled look.

« I have no more viable option. » She said defeatedly. « Okay, I'll come with you. »

I nodded. Then I took a few steps aside, picked up the woman's jacket and handed it to her:

« Here, put it back on, and let's run away. »

She complied. Within a few short minutes Sivir and I had left the reception and we headed for the apartment where we were to meet Carth.

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

Chapter Five here!

[uncloseted]

Honestly I really don't think she is to blame for her boyfriend telling her that just bc she asked? Like we all have insecurities and in relationships we are vulnerable with our partners and likely will ask "Do you still think im attractive even though etc etc" because we want to feel loved even if we arent super models. One time my boyfriend asked me if Id rather date someone who looked differently to him because I'm always interested in certain celebs/actors that look a certain way, and it's

like sure maybe in a perfect world my partner would be super specific looking but I told my boyfriend that I love the way he looks and that even a more "attractive" guy wouldnt dissuade me because the way he looks is apart of him specifically. I didnt say "wellll you could be blonde and taller and more muscular, but I still like you!" like wtf? Even if he wasnt trying to be mean, it was an airhead move to specifically point out your partners insecurities.

I mean, like I said, I think he could absolutely have been more considerate or tactful. It was definitely, as you say, an airhead move. But when you straight up ask someone, "would you prefer that I lose weight?", you have to be prepared for the answer to be anything from, "yes, I'd prefer that" to "no, I'd stop being attracted to you if you lost weight". Even though it's really a bid for validation, it's still a question, and I don't think her boyfriend can be blamed for missing the subtext and mistaking it for an actual question requiring an honest answer.

Besides, I think her boyfriend actually handled it okay- it sounds like he said something along the lines of, "my type is usually skinnier girls, but I like how you look, which is why I've never brought that up or asked you to change." I don't think that's really "pointing out his partner's insecurities" so much as it's honestly answering the question as best as he could in that moment. Should he have lied and insisted up and down that she's perfect and he's never been attracted to anyone else in his entire life? Maybe. I think that might have been what the original anon was hoping for. But personally, I don't like the idea of my partner lying to me, even if it is to spare my feelings in the short term, and maybe her boyfriend doesn't, either. I know I'm not the person that my partner is the most attracted to in the entire world, and I'm okay with that. Relationships can't endure on physical attraction alone. My partner is with me for a reason, and it's not just the way my face or my body looks- it's all of who I am as a person and the life that we've built together.

I think people should absolutely be able to ask for validation when they're feeling insecure. Life is hard, and sometimes you need to hear your partner say that they're attracted to you even though you're not a supermodel. But in an ideal world, I think that comes with expressing a need - "I'm feeling insecure about how I look right now, and I need to hear that you're still attracted to me even though I'm not the hottest person ever to walk the earth." I just don't think it should be expressed through fishing for compliments because sometimes you end up catching an old boot or a used tire instead.

[sadnesslaughs]

The witch begs your forgiveness for cursing you as a child; She was young and hot-headed, and would you like her to undo the curse? You aren’t sure what to say, as this is the first you’ve heard about any of this.

“Hi, it has come to my attention that I may have cursed you in the past. That was not very nice of me. The magic council has deemed me a Hex offender and, as such, I am required to correct all my previous wrongs. If I don’t, I’ll have my soul cast into the body of a lizard, frog, spider, or whatever they have lying around their offices. Lettuce, Carrots, Spinach-“ The witch began reading through her grocery list. Not even looking at Geoff as she stood on his doorstep. The palm cards nestled between her fingers, keeping a firm grip on them.

“Um, is there a new snazzy version of the Wizard of Oz on at the Jeva theater? If so, your costume is spectacular. Although, if you don’t mind some constructive criticism. I would suggest facing the speaker when saying your lines. It makes it feel more personal.” Geoff knew nothing about the strange woman. Only knowing that her grocery list matched the diets of the rabbits he saw bouncing through the backyard of his property.

“No, I cursed you when I was younger. It’s a long story. Did you ever rebel against your mother when you were young? Some people throw rocks at cars, others spray paint. I cursed. It’s a phase that most witches grow out of by the time they reach two hundred.” The palm cards vanished with a quick sleight of hand. The trick causing Geoff to clap.

“I did sometimes steal a cookie when it was past my bedtime. Not to eat, just to leave out in case santa arrived. I never learned to read a calendar, always frustrated my poor parents. So, how much for a ticket?” Geoff reached for his wallet, only for the witch to grab his hand. The cold palm of the witch freezing his arm hairs.

“No. Don’t. I COULD NEVER ACCEPT MONEY FROM A PERSON I’M TRYING TO HELP.” She shouted, eyes darting as she turned around. A black cat stopped on the footpath, watching the witch momentarily. The witch took a breath, pushing his hand towards his pocket. “I’m trying to help you. There’s no show. I’m a real life witch.”

“A real witch. Not a Sand Witch. Get it? Like a sandwich.” Geoff chuckled, only for the witch’s frustration to grow. She started mumbling a hex, the clouds darkening overhead. Before a bolt of lightning could come down, the cat meowed, causing her to lose her nerve.

“Ha…ha. Very funny, sir. A sandwich. How creative. What children’s joke book did you find that one in? I’m certain it must have been in the discount bin.” The witch smiled.

“Oh, it was. I got it from Penny or Pound. Do you shop there? It’s a book called. One hundred and one jokes for making friends. It’s a great read. I can lend it to you.”

“I… appreciate the sentiment, but I will have to decline. Now, we have established that I am a witch and a former hexaholic. If anyone is listening, I would like that noted in the records.” She glared at the cat who had gone back to licking itself, pretending not to care in that typical cat fashion. “Now, I’ll remove your curse.”

“What curse?”

“The curse that makes you believe it’s Christmas eve every day. Remember. I was trying to teach you a lesson about appreciating the scarcity of happiness. If anything, I would say this was a lesson rather than a curse.”

“Reow?” The cat spoke up.

“Ok, ok. Fine. I did it because I thought it was funny.”

“Reow….”

“Ok, I did it because I hated Christmas and I was jealous that he had a loving family while I had a mother who called me daughter three. The one to use when I need spare eyes. Are you happy?”

“Meow.”

“As I was saying. I’ll remove your curse.” The witch gave a fake smile. Her purple lips having to lift a weight as great as Sisyphus’s struggle to get her mouth to move that way.

“What curse? It is Christmas eve. Tis the season to be jolly as they say.”

“No. it’s not. It’s August. My curse makes you think it’s always Christmas eve. Look, I need you to want the curse removed. I can’t force you to remove it. So, what do you say?”

“I say, Ho Ho Ho and a Merry Christmas Eve.” Geoff laughed, slapping his belly in a jolly gesture.

“Ok, I tried. Enjoy your curse, weirdo.” The witch turned, only for the cat to hiss at her. “What? I tried.” The cat hissed again. “Don’t call me that. Fine. I didn’t think elder mages could threaten people. Who's the real monster?” She turned back around, sighing. “Have none of your family ever mentioned this to you?”

“Hm. Now that you mention it. My mother did take me to see a lot of doctors. I think they mentioned I was suffering from some trauma. I hit my head that night, so that could have caused something. My parents and the doctors ended up being wrong, though. My dad admitted that I was right about the date. So, I think your curse story is a little farfetched.”

“So, they indulged your curse to not cause you any further damage. Clever. I think deep down you know they’re lying to you. If you let me remove the curse, I’ll prove it.” The witch held out her hand again, trying to get this over with.

“So, if you’re right. Does that mean I wasted all day getting Christmas decorations for nothing?”

“Indeed. Hurry up, hand in my palm, now.”

“Oh. Seems a waste not to use them. How about we have a Christmas party and you can remove my curse after?” Geoff said, offering to let her into his home. The home decorated with Christmas ornaments and Santa statues. The home looking like it belonged to someone that either had a deep, unrequited love for Santa or planned to assassinate him.

“I don’t have time.”

“Meow?”

“Ok, I have plenty of time.” The witch crouched before the cat, poking its nose. “This isn’t part of the deal.”

“Meow.”

“What? You can’t change the deal. Are you a council member or a con artist? Fine, if I do this, no more threatening to turn me into an animal.”

“Meowwww.” The cat said, the meow having a little sadness to it. The cat enjoying being able to meow its threats.

The witch entered and thus, Geoff’s 6890 Day of Christmas eve began. The witch spent the first three hours brooding on the couch. Having to listen to Christmas music while Geoff sang. The fourth hour, the group played charades. A game that was hard to play with only two people and a cat.

By the end of the night, the witch didn’t hate the holiday as much as she thought she would. The two discuss what presents they would like. When it got late, the cat curled up in Geoff’s Christmas sweater, while the witch and Geoff discussed the holiday in further detail.

“What a night. Ok, I’m ready to have it removed.” Geoff held out his hand.

“Right. Sorry and stuff.” She gripped his hand and sent out a hot, invisible flame through his arm. Geoff howled, waking the cat, his skin feeling as though it would bubble and pop at any moment. Only for the pain to fade as quickly as it came, exiting out his toes. When the pain left, he stared at the witch and cat.

“So, it was all a lie. I’ll have to apologize to everyone. All my Christmas chatter would have driven them insane. Must be why mom and dad don’t call very often. Hey. Since it’s not Christmas. Do you want a present? I can’t keep them around the house, so feel free to take something. They’re only cheap. I spent so much money on presents that I ended up needing to buy my gifts from Penny and Pound.”

“A gift? Why? Do you intend to get your revenge by luring me into a trap? What happens when I open the box? Will a gnome climb out and pull out my eye?”

“Me-ow.” The cat yawned, trying to snap out of its sleepy state.

“What? It’s what I would do to a person who cursed me. Fine. I accept your gift.” She went to the tree, picking out a small candy cane colored box. “Thank you. I shall take my leave.”

“Ok. Hey. You mentioned being jealous of my family. If you want. You can come to our Christmas party this year. If you don’t curse anyone.”

“I’ll consider it. Come on, let’s get going.” The cat followed her out the door. When she got outside, she opened the box, finding a little snowman keychain. The snowman green due to some printing error, explaining the cheap cost. She smiled, deeming it a witch snowman or a snow witch for short. She attached it to her dungeon key before flying off on her broom.

[grievousdearu]

In The Throws of Death

It’s so hot.

It is so unbearably hot that my skin has ceased its ability to sweat.

For the last few hundred meters, I’ve debated swallowing the last of my shame and removing the last of my clothes to get even just the slightest bit of relief from this god-forsaken heat.

The plains in this region have never been this unbelievably hot before. Why now?

I don’t know how far I’ve walked anymore, and the more I try to think about it, the more I feel like giving up and letting myself fall victim to the heat.

I can’t even cast a spell that would make me feel better, let alone rid me of the symptoms of heat stroke, I don’t know magic of that caliber- not yet.

I drank the last of my water about six kilometers back, and I see no signs of civilization or so much as a puddle of water on the ground anywhere in sight for who knows how far. It’s just me, and dead, grassy plains as far as the eye can see.

Part of me wished it was going to be a death by frostbite rather than a death by heat stroke. At least if you died in the cold, at some point you’d be numb to the pain.

But no, with heat death, you feel every moment of despair; the gnawing of thirst in your mouth and throat, the burning of the air as it enters your lungs, and the growing weakness in your muscles as they decay in real-time.

I take a moment to stop, but I realize too late that the second I did so, it was a mistake.

I instantly collapse onto the ground, leaving myself in a contorted blob of despair and agony in the middle of nowhere, lying in the grass of the Fragrach plains.

For a moment, I think that if I pray to one of the gods, maybe I’ll at least be saved from further pain until I really do die, but the energy to even think of a prayer is too much to spare before my eyelids begin to shut.

Ah, so this is it, isn’t it?

This is where I die.

Not in a jail cell, not in my own home, not in the stocks, but in a field with no burial.

I feel like if my body had the fluids to spare, I would probably be crying right now.

But nothing comes. I only lay in a puddle of my own misery as I wait to die.

A shadow crosses my now fading field of view, followed by a vague prodding sensation in my left hip.

Probably a vulture, just getting a bit too early to dinner.

A figure that I can’t make out then stands in front of me, towering over me, but it’s too hazy to make out any significant features other than that it’s vaguely humanoid.

I try to laugh, thinking that the world was mocking me just one last time, but all that escapes my mouth is a dry, desperate groan.

Then my eyelids shut, and my consciousness fades.

I wondered if I did truly die back there- if I experienced the feeling of my life leaving my body.

Maybe I’d have been better off, too.

I’d experienced the feeling of regaining consciousness after being knocked out unwillingly before- more times than I’d care to admit- but this time felt different.

It wasn’t a slow fade of feeling over the course of a few minutes, no, this time I knew the time in-between moments of reality I was aware of was the passing of days. I don’t know how many specifically, but I knew that it had been at least a week since I’d been picked up from that gods-forsaken grasslands.

The first time I was capable of my first movement, it was turning my head.

I looked around to try to gather information on my surroundings, but I still wasn’t able to make out clear shapes or objects. Everything was blurred, and it was spinning.

That seemed to have alerted the people who were tending to me- whoever they were- as they rushed to give my head support.

I think I counted two days after that- before I was able to truly grasp the reality of my situation.

I’d been touch-and-go, in and out of what felt like a coma for a few weeks.

But I knew for a certainty that I’d been saved from the plains. I was now in a building, surrounded by a group of people who were tending to me as my consciousness came and went. I could make out the occasional distinct figures, but I couldn’t see faces- that sense was still yet to come.

I finally come-to in an established state of consciousness for the first time since I thought I’d died in the plains.

For the first time, I was finally able to completely open my eyes. I was able to hear again- and not just tinnitus either- it was audible, distinct sounds.

“She’s awake again,” I hear one of the people say.

“Conscious or awake?” Another asks.

“Conscious, I think.”

I try to move my arm to feel my head, but I can barely feel it, let alone move it.

“Definitely conscious, now.”

‘Where am I?’ I try to ask, but my throat is unable to fully produce my voice, so all that comes out is a vague ‘where?’ in an indistinct whisper.

“The Logan Hall, a roadside inn about two kilometers from where you collapsed,” the man beside me then says.

“You were incredibly lucky, I’d say. Wandering Cleric saw you and picked you up, gave you the healing he was capable of performing, then left you in our care.”

I turn my head to look at the figure the man’s voice is coming from and try to utter my thanks, but once again, my vocal cords fail me.

“The chances are you won’t be able to regain your movement for another couple of days at the minimum- but rest assured, you’ll be safe as long as you’re with us. For now, I think it’s best you keep getting rest.”

I can’t help but wonder what kind of people I’ve been left with, but if a Cleric thought they were trustworthy, I decide I’m probably going to be fine for now.

Gods forbid it was a grave cleric, though…

Three days passed since I regained steady consciousness, in which I’ve regained the ability to move my body, but I’m still too weak to walk on my own or carry more than a bowl of soup.

“Your body must be very resilient to be able to recoup as quickly as you have. Most common folk would’ve likely died before they even got found, but you…”

“I have… a nasty habit of not being able to die,” I respond with a raspy, grumbly voice.

“Forgive me, but due to your condition, we’ve been unable to know your name. Now that you’re capable, I should introduce myself,” the man walking with me starts out, “I’m Walker Logan, this is my inn. I run it myself, with the assistance of my wife.”

“I’m… Natalia MacAllister.”

“Well, Miss MacAllister, I believe you have quite the story to tell us about how you wound up in the middle of the Fragrach Plains without a horse during a record-breaking heat wave.”

“Ah, I suppose you would be wondering about that…” Well, I suppose it’s time to think of a story. I can’t exactly tell them that I was working a job for the Collective.

“Maybe after I’ve rested from physical I’ll explain.”

“Of course,” he says. “Still, to be able to walk- even simply assisted walking- just three weeks after suffering such a severe and near-fatal case of heat stroke, I can’t help but be impressed.”

“Three weeks, huh?... I suppose I’ve collected quite a debt from imposing on your inn for so long?”

“Of course not, Miss MacAllister. I would rather invoke the monetary loss from hosting someone in your condition over letting them to their fate if they can’t pay.”

“Really? That’s not something you often hear out this close to Helmholtz.”

“Unfortunate as it is, it’s quite common to see people out this direction hoping to get away from that accursed city.”

“Accursed?”

“Ah, yes, we’ve had more than one run-in with ‘city officials’ who come to collect tax, when we don’t belong to the courtship of any of the local lords. The Logan Hall exists as somewhat of an exclave independent of the local lordship.”

“So how exactly did you manage such a wonderful little privilege?”

“Well, actually, this was my father’s Inn before it was mine, but he was able to secure a deal with Duke Marias himself as thanks for hosting his daughter whilst she was in hiding from the thugs over in Severfront. Thus, the special privileges.”

“Quite the little tale of adventure, it seems.”

Walker then guides me to the bed where I’ve been staying most of my time, where he then helps me sit down.

“Oh yes, my father was quite the bold man. It’s just a shame I probably will never bring the kind of name for the Inn as he did.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I’m not particularly sharp-tongued nor am I very capable with a sword.”

“You don’t need either. If you’ve got the wits to back it up, you can get out of most situations. Speaking from experience, of course.”

“Unfortunately, the times we live in require at least the ability to hold your own in a conversation. I tend to get walked over all the time, so instead, I decided to keep my wits about me and lay low here at the Inn.”

“I’m sure in either case, the people who stop by here- myself included, are thankful to have such an honest man behind the counter.”

“Your words flatter me, truly, Miss MacAllister. Until you are capable of returning to Helmholtz; this room is typically reserved for my family who visits here, but it is yours to call home until then.”

“I appreciate your generosisty, Mister Logan. Or, Lord Logan, I suppose, with it being an independent land and whatnot.”

“Oh please, none of that nonsense. Just Walker is fine.”

“Well then, Walker, I hope to return to health as soon as possible so as to not impose on you for longer than necessary.”

Walker then turns to leave the room.

“Ah, one last thing, Miss MacAllister.”

“What is it?”

“A man came asking for you earlier today. Said that you’d missed your ‘window’ and that your co-workers were going to have a stern discussion when you return.”

Shit. Figures the Collective would be on my case about disappearing for three weeks.

Ah, I’m sure they’ve heard about what happened and aren’t too keen on hosting an ill-abled body such as myself themselves until I’ve returned to fighting capabilities.

No matter. I’ll face the consequences of my failure when it comes time to cross that bridge.

But that time isn’t now, so instead, I think I’ll just take it easy here until I can walk on my own, at least.

This place isn’t quite so bad, either. It’s a nice change of pace from the house back in Helmholtz. You’re not awakened by the clammer of people making it to the market first thing every morning, and it would take about half a day’s journey to get here by foot if the Collective wanted to do something about me. The food is quite good for an inn in the middle of nowhere, too.

Yeah.

It’s nice here.

[veryberryjelly]

sleepovers

pairing ; nancy wheeler x fem!reader

prompt; giving their lover one of their shirts, when they don’t have one to sleep in 

wc; 1k

—--------------------------

It was just a sleepover, no big deal. You have done them countless times before, this should be no different. 

Just because you and Nancy had recently gone from friends to girlfriends didn’t mean that the fortnightly sleepovers needed to change at all, right? 

Right.

That’s what you kept telling yourself as she approached the front door of the wheelers house as you had done a thousand times before, with a bag over your shoulder full of your skincare, pyjamas and a few snacks. 

If this were no different to usual, then why were your hands feeling tingly. 

After knocking, your hand went back to holding onto the strap of your bag. 

It was only a few moments before your favourite wheeler opened the door for you with a beaming smile on her face. That eased your nerves a little but not much.

“hey, c’mon I got everything set up upstairs.”

She took your hand in hers and led you through the house and up the stairs to her bedroom. 

Instead of the usual camp bed set out on the floor that you would usually sleep on, she just had fresh sheets on her own bed along with spare pillows for you. 

She just wanted to make sure you were as comfortable as you could be in her bed with her. 

“ you don’t have to sleep with me, but I thought it might be better than the camp bed. “ she said as she shut the bedroom door behind her, watching as you set your bag down on the floor by her bed and perched on the edge of it. 

Nancy’s eyebrows furrowed softly at your clear discomfort. 

“ everything okay,  y/n ?” she asked as she walked across the floor to sit down beside you. 

There was no point in lying to her and telling her everything was fine, because it was clear you were on edge. 

“ I- I don’t know. I just, I don’t know what to do now that we’re dating. I don’t want anything to change but I know that it has to and I’m just scared” 

that was the first Nancy had ever heard of any of your worries about being together. When you had first gotten together just under two weeks ago, you had been nothing but ecstatic. But now that she knew of your concerns, it hurt her a little that you hadn’t told her earlier. 

“ why didn’t you tell me ?” she questioned, shifting slightly where she sat on the bed, pulling one of her legs up to cross under the other. 

“ I hadn’t thought about it until today.” Your lifted your hand to push a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“ well..” Nancy shifted in her seat again, moving slightly closer to you and taking your hand into hers. “ nothing has to change that we don’t want to change. I can get the camp bed back out if you would rather sleep on that. That doesn’t have to change”

“no, I want to sleep in bed with you, that’s what people who are together do, and you give really nice cuddles.”

A soft laugh fell from nancy’s lips as she lifted your hand to press a short kiss onto the back of it. 

“ now, how about we change and then we can go downstairs and watch a movie?”

You didn’t say anything in response and only nodded, standing from Nancy’s bed to crouch down infront of your bag, pulling out a pair of comfortable shorts and then rummaging around for the tshirt you had sworn you packed. 

A soft sigh left your lips as she sat back on the floor, annoyed at yourself for being so wound up about things changing that you forgot a tshirt. 

Across the room Nancy was pulling a sweater over her head and pulling her hair out from beneath the collar of it. 

So instead of doing anything, you just pulled on your comfortable shorts and left on the shirt you had been wearing when you came in. 

“ ready? … why haven’t you changed ?” Nancy asked as she walked around her bed, moving to take off her jewellery. 

“ I forgot a shirt to sleep in, so im just gonna sleep in this. “ you shrugged, standing to go downstairs. 

“ no you’re not, lemme get you something “ she said casually, walking back over to her dresser and pulling out one of the tshirts she usually slept in to give to you. 

It was a soft pink one with a faded image of a white cat on the front, you had seen her wear it on multiple occasions when you had stayed over. 

She handed the soft folded fabric to you before continuing in her endeavour to take off her necklaces. 

While she did that, you slid the soft pink fabric of her shirt over your head, smiling softly when the smell of Nancy’s perfume engulfed you. 

Before you could even thank her, she had taken your hand and lead you downstairs where there was a bowl of popcorn on the table and a blanket laid over the back of the couch. 

“ what movie are we watching?” you questioned, sitting relatively near the middle of the couch where Nancy joined her momentarily after.

“ silk stockings, its an old fifties movie I found at the video store, thought it looked good “ Nancy shrugged as she pulled the blanket over both of your legs and picking up the remote from the couch beside her, playing the film and curling up closer to you. 

She reached for your hand under the blankets, having not told her family about you two dating just yet. As far as her parents and siblings were aware, this was a regulsr fortnightly sleepover.

Only two both of you, this was the first of many sleepovers that would be disguised as friendly and routine, but was really just a way to get around their parents figuring out they were together